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rosexxi · 8 months

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Hiii idk if you write for mattheo riddle but I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle × hufflepuff!reader one with princess treatment and secret dating? Maybe some angst with fluff at the end? If not no problem thank youuuuuu🦧

My Love 🌸❤️‍🔥

Dating a jealous Mattheo Riddle in secret is never a good idea

a.n // swearing, Mattheo is lowkey mean at one point

fluff/angst // m.r x hufflepuff! reader

Mattheo never was a morning person. Becoming one was one of the "good" habits he had developed since becoming your boyfriend. He was also getting less detentions, owing it to you, and your good influence. He would almost always have his homework completed, his grades were improving as he actually attended his lessons, and he no longer joined in with his childish friends as they practically bullied their classmates. He also had you believe he quit smoking. He didn't and would always discard his cigarette whenever you saw him, but how could he tell you the truth when you looked so proudly at him, as though he had the entire world in his hands.

Almost everyone around him had noticed the small changes in his behaviour, but no one needed to know that he had his own guardian angel in human form that made smiling come a lot easier to him than before.

"You're really special to me, y/n." he had whispered that secret meeting at the Black Lake. It had become a routine for the two of you to meet at the lake and spend time just being two teenagers in love without the burden of family and circumstances. After all, he was the Slytherin prince, son of the dark lord, and you were simply a girl in Hufflepuff. Nothing special, though his words would have you believing otherwise.

You were sitting between his legs as he leaned against a tree, back leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

You smiled at his words, how he was able to be so soft, "You're special to me too Mattheo."

He brought up a soft hand to pull your chin to face him, "I mean it, princess, you've changed my life for the better. You're so pure and kind, dont know what you're doing with me."

You looked up at him with wide eyes as you pressed a kiss in his palm.

"Don't look at me like that angel," he groaned, throwing his head back, "You don't know what you do to me."

You giggled at his exaggerated actions, "You're such a drama queen Mattheo."

"It's just what you do to me."

"Mattheo, I haven't done anything to you. You've always been a kind, caring soul, and now everyone else sees what I see."

"Lucky them." he said sarcastically, "Come on then, princess, I've got practice, and you've got a Hogsmeade date with Lavender, we can't keep her waiting." he tapped your side, and you got up, holding a hand out to pull him up. He smiled down at you when you did, always in love with how much taller he was than you. You pulled him into a hug, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Meet me tonight?" he whispered.

You shook your head into his chest, "I can't, I'm studying in the library with Cho and Lavender."

He rolled his eyes, thankful you couldn't see the look of annoyance on his face. He loved you (though he hadn't yet said), but what he didn't love was the secrecy of your relationship that prevented you from doing normal couple things. To be entirely honest, it was his decision to keep the relationship a secret, but it was all for you. Everyone in Hogwarts loved you. You were popular and incredibly liked because of your friendly, positive spirit. The last thing he needed on his conscious was ruining that for you, making you be seen with him.

He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you later then, yeah?"

You smiled sweetly at him and nodded, "Of course, have a good practice."

"but y/n are you ok with this arrangement?" asked Lavender, your best friend, at The Three Broomsticks.

"Arrangement? God Lavender you make it sound like a business deal."

Lavender was the only person who knew about you and Mattheo, as the two of you couldn't help but gossip about everything, including your own lives.

"It sounds that way to me. I mean, he won't even talk to you in public."

"He talks to me." you muttered.

"A subtle nod of encouragement doesn't count."

You rolled your eyes at your best friend, but deep down, you knew she was telling the truth.

At the beginning of the relationship, you didn't mind that he didn't want to tell anyone, but it had been four months, and he was still treating you as this big secret. You were able to deal with it as he was a good boyfriend. You may have been dating in secret, but he always made his presence known and treated you like a princess, even if it was from a distance.

"I don't know anymore Lavender how am I even supposed to bring it up in conversation. Maybe he's ashamed of me or something."

"I really hope he isn't because then I'd have to kill him. Just ask him."

"I can't just ask him."

"Why not, I thought you weren't scared of him."

You sighed out in exasperation, "I'm not. But, I just don't want to ruin things."

Lavender stared empathetically at you, taking your hand into hers, "y/n, he's your boyfriend, acknowledging you in public is the literal bare minimum."

"I know, I'll talk to him."

"Oi big game tomorrow Smith." heckled Malfoy in Potions the next day. You rolled your eyes from beside Zacharias Smith, the chaser for Hufflepuff.

"As far as I can remember, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin last Malfoy." you said to the cocky blonde boy, "let's hope you don't get injured this time." you smiled sweetly at him. Mattheo sniggered from beside Malfoy, earning a nudge from his friend and quidditch teammate.

"What, she's not wrong." he shrugged to a scowling Malfoy, a grin evident on his usual miserable face.

"Shut it, Riddle. And you too l/n, you might want to pay more attention to Snape, last I checked you failed this class."

You rolled your eyes at the petty boy. Of all Mattheo's friends you liked Malfoy the least, he was arrogant and immature. You took your attention off of him and continued with the potion before you.

"You might want to stop paying attention to Snape, Malfoy. You act like his little pet." muttered Zacharias Smith to Malfoy. Tensions always rose near quidditch games, and Smith could have been just as petty as anyone else. His remark made you laugh out loud, especially after seeing the look of annoyance on Malfoys face.

"Is something funny Miss l/n?" Came Snape's monotonous voice.

"No sir."

Snape took one look at you and Smith down his nose and turned back to his lesson, "The two of you can join me for detention tonight and exchange as many jokes as you want then."

You rolled your eyes behind Snape's back, knowing best not to challenge his words.

"Bet you're happy to be in detention with your little girlfriend and Snape." laughed Malfoy.

"Shut it, teachers' pet." argued Smith.

"Leave it Zacharias, there's no point."

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend Smith."

You shook your head at Malfoy's childish behaviour and raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who stood beside him. Half expecting Mattheo to say something in your defence, but you knew he wouldn't. He wore a scowl like no other and aggressively worked on his potion, occasionally huffing in anger. Though you had no idea as to what he was angry about, if anything, you should be the angry one as he allowed his best friend to talk down to his girlfriend.

The lesson seemed to draw out, and you were glad you were paired up with Zacharias, whose jokes took your attention off of your sulking boyfriend. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mattheo burning holes into you with his intense gaze. He didn't engage once in Blaise and Draco's conversation. Instead, with his jaw clenched, he sulked over his potion.

"I'm sorry about Snape giving us detention, but I also half expected it the second Malfoy spoke." Smith said in the corridor when the class had finally finished.

"It's fine, I did aswell, we all know Malfoy has Snape in his pocket. Thanks for defending me though."

"Of course, anytime y/n, I just can't stand him, I really hope we win tomorrow, wipe the smile off his face."

"Me too, I will be cheering so much for you guys."

Zacharias smiled at you, "Then I'm sure we'll win. I'll see you at detention. I'm gonna go meet my mates, bye y/n."

"Bye Zacharias," you waved him goodbye and made your way to your dorm room.

Detention with Snape came quick and ended just the same. You and Zacharias met outside his classroom, and Snape simply had you organise some of his ingredients for class the next coming lesson.

"Bye y/n, I've got practice now but I'll see you tomorrow hopefully."

"Bye Zacharias, of course you'll see me," you smiled as you waved him goodbye. You had known Zacharias a long time, practically growing up with each other due to living in the same neighbourhood.

"Enjoy detention, did you?" came a familiar voice in the otherwise empty corridor.

"Don't think anyone enjoys detention, Mattheo." You replied as your boyfriend emerged from a dark corner.

"I waited for you," he began, stopping to inhale from his cigarette, "Seems you had good company though."

You stared at him as he fiddled with his cigarette, "I thought you quit."

"Only do it when I'm stressed." he shrugged. A clear lie. His demeaner entirely different to how he was the other day at the Black Lake.

"What's there to be stressed about? You seemed just fine sulking in potions." You said crossed your arms.

"I weren't fucking sulking, forgive me for not being all chipper when my girlfriends practically throwing herself at my rival." he spat out.

"Throwing herself?! Excuse me, Mattheo, I was simply speaking to my lifelong friend. What, you wanted me to speak to you as you practically let Malfoy be rude to me, your girlfriend might I add." You pointed an accusing finger into his chest.

"That's different, not like I was flirting with someone else in front of you."

"I was not flirting. And don't act all high and mighty when you won't even defend me. You'd rather keep me a secret so you don't have to speak up to your friends."

"I'm not scared to speak up against Malfoy," he sneered as he let out a bitter laugh, "Whatever love, I've got a game to focus on. I can't be doing with your crying because I won't hold your hand in public."

"Mattheo, that's mean." you sighed, voice threatening to break, incredibly taken aback by his harsh tones. All this because you were nice to a boy you had known forever. You should have known. Everything with Mattheo was perfect, almost too perfect it made you forget how mean he could be. He was simply no different to Malfoy, and you stupidly thought he would be.

He merely shrugged at your words and turned on his heels, marching down the corridor down to the dungeons. He left you there with tears threatening to fall.

You woke up the next day in low spirits later than usual. You managed to pull yourself out of bed and make it to breakfast just before it ended. Your eyes were puffy from crying and your face red. You managed to catch a glimpse of Mattheo sitting at the Slytherin table. He didn't look as he usually did before a quidditch match. His eyes were on you instead of on his captain, and a faint air of guilt lingered around him.

"Hey you ok y/n?" asked Cadwallader from across the table. Another one of Hufflepuff's chasers.

"Just tired. Good luck today though, all of you."

"Thanks y/n, I think we've got this win, though." winked Zacharias.

You sat with Lavender in the stands and watched absentmindedly as the two teams came onto the pitch. The Hufflepuff players wore smiles and carried a sense of certainty about them, contrasting to the scowls plastered on the Slytherin players. Draco Malfoy, captain of them all, aggressively shook the hand of the Hufflepuff captain, Cadwallader, and took his place in the sky with his other chasers, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle.

Mattheo stared daggers into the Hufflepuff team, occasionally taking his eyes off of them to look down at you. The game began and seemed to be like any other. Slytherin scored first, followed by Hufflepuff, then Hufflepuff again, and Hufflepuff again. Seeing your house team win put you in higher spirits, and you laughed with your best friend, as you cheered.

You smiled up at the players, even smiling at your boyfriend though quickly regretting so as you were met with a look of anger.

"And it's Zacharias Smith again for Hufflepuff, he's on a roll," yelled Lee Evans who was quick to support anyone who wasnt Slytherin, "And the Hufflepuff seeker has found the golden snitch and Hufflepuff win!! Wait, seems as though Riddle isn't too happy with that one."

The smile on your face was quickly wiped away, as were the feelings of joy to see your house win. You were now staring down at the pitch with wide eyes as Mattheo Riddle was single handedly throwing punches and spitting harsh words at both Smith and Cadwallader. You quickly brought your hands to your mouth, gasping in shock at the actions of your boyfriend. You had seen Mattheo in plenty of fights during your time at Hogwarts, but it was harder to watch now that you were in fact his girlfriend.

"Haha go on Cadwallader, tiny lad but he's finally landed a punch, and Smith lanky git," chuckled Evans as he commented on the spectacle that had everyone's attention, "Riddle is now joined by Malfoy and Nott who are not coming to fight but to pull him away. Awh, shame, I wanted to see a proper fight. Sorry, professor, definitely not supporting aggression in Quidditch. Ooh, Smith and Cadwallader look nasty, but they've finally taken Riddle off. Well, dragged him off. No one likes a sore loser, Mattheo mate."

You wanted to follow Mattheo into the dressing room and ask him a million question, well shout them at him, but you knew he'd only lash out at you. Mattheo had actually never spoken to you in any way other than calmly. Even back to before you had begun dating Mattheo was almost nice to you, but in his current state you knew best than to approach him.

After some time, you hesitated around the locker rooms if you should enter. Even if you had fought yesterday, you were his girlfriend and maybe he needed you. It seemed that the other players had all gone, and only Theodore and Mattheo were left. Just then, Theodore left the changing room.

"Oh hi y/n, you should definitely go see him." he nodded nonchalantly.

"Theodore, you know?" you managed to get out, though incredibly taken aback at his nod of acknowledgement.

"Oh, I always knew. Riddle told me way back when he had used to fancy you," he shrugged, "you should know what he did last night was shitty but he did have a go at everyone if that balances it out."

"He what?"

"Yeah, after he came back from your detention, he had a go at Malfoy. Said if he ever spoke about his girl again, he'd break his face." Theodore laughed, "He really likes you y/n, he's just a bit awkward with his feelings and words, not to mention incredibly insecure. Don't tell him I said that though."

"Thanks Theodore I won't, I'll go talk to him."

You walked into the Slytherin locker room cautiously. It was seemingly empty, but there in the corner was your boyfriend. Mattheo. He was sat shirtless hunched over the bench, his head in his hands. You walked closer to him to see his bare back covered in old bruises and scars. It hurt your heart to be reminded of the painful past he had to endure. Upon hearing your footsteps, he lifted his head, turning to face you.

"Hi." He whispered.

His face was covered in dried blood. His lip was cut, as well as his eyebrow, and you were sure he had had a nose bleed aswell.

"Oh, Mattheo." you whispered upon seeing him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and clean him up, "What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, "Are you here to break up with me?"

"Break up with you? Why would I do that?"

"Because look at me," he laughed, "I picked a fight with your friends."

You shook your head and made your way towards him, sitting down between his legs and holding his hands in yours.

"I don't care about them Mattheo I care about you. But I can't do anything about it if you push me away which is what it feels like."

"I know," he nodded, looking anywhere but at you. He seemed frustrated, "It's just stupid, I don't know how to say it."

"Just say words I'll put them together."

"You're too kind, princess," he shook his head, "I just got jealous when I saw you with your Hufflepuff friends. It's stupid. Reminds me of why I wanted to keep you, us a secret in the first place. And then I saw them today, and that tiny arse wanted to ask you out, and we were losing, and I lost it."

You brushed your fingertips over the bruises on his knuckles, again a million questions on your mind. You never knew why Mattheo wanted to keep the two of you a secret.

"You wanted to keep us a secret because you were ashamed of me because I'm in Hufflepuff?"

"What?" he said, clearly taken aback and confused by your words. His eyes finally met yours, "I wanted to keep us a secret because I'm ashamed of myself. Because how could I openly date you when you're so kind and pure and I'm me. Look at me. I got into a fight with two people just because they're your friends. I'm not right for you, y/n. I'm not what you deserve, I'm violent and aggressive."

"Mattheo? Stop it. Don't talk about yourself like that, please. I'm with you because I like you for you and I want to be with you. I don't see you the way you see yourself. This whole time, I thought you wanted us to be a secret because you were embarrassed to be dating me and didn't want your friends to see."

"Fuck my friends."

You laughed softly at him, "I wish you had just said this to me, everything could have been avoided."

"I know," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I'm not good with words."

"Theodore said."

"You spoke to Nott?"

"He told me you told Malfoy you'd break his face if he spoke to me again."

"I will. I'm so sorry angel for not defending you, I should have punched Malfoy right then and there."

"Maybe not so much physical violence."

"I'll work on it. But I messed up so much y/n, I don't know how to make this up to you. I shouldn't have let you think for one minute that I was ashamed of you. How could I be. You're beautiful inside and out, like an angel. You're too pure for this world, for me."

You smiled away at his words and his actions as he brought up a bruised hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Leaning into press a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm perfect for you as you are for me. You can make it up to me by apologising to Smith and Cadwallader and then finally taking me on a proper date."

"Fine, I'll apologise to Smith, I know he's your friend, but absolutely not to Cadwallader, he wanted to ask my girlfriend out."

"He didn't know I was your girlfriend." you pointed out.

"Don't give a fuck, I'll make everyone aware now. But yes, I will take you on a date. I've never been on a date before, but I'll do some research."

You giggled at his words, leaning into press a kiss onto his lips. You wrapped your hands around his neck, going into deepen the kiss but his groans from beneath stopped you.

"Sorry did I hurt you."

"No, no," he shook his head, but the look of pain on his face said otherwise. You got up from the floor, holding a hand out for him to take.

He took it and again leaned into press a kiss onto your forehead when he stood up to tower of you.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as he brought up a calloused hand to caress your cheek. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

You smiled sweetly at him as you rubbed the blood of his lips, "You can stare at my beautiful eyes as much as you want after we visit Madam Pomfrey."

"Can't wait my love."

"My love? That's a new one, I like it."

He shrugged nonchalantly, "It's the truth. You are my love. I love you."

And just then, you wanted to melt into his chest. You leaned up to press a soft peck, before replying, "I love you too."

"Don't think anyone has ever loved me before."

"They're missing out on so much, but at least this way I have you all to myself. Loving you is so easy when you're not being a jealous ass."

"Hah, I deserved that. Of course, princess, I'm all yours. Come with me to the hospital wing."

Hand in hand, you both left the locker room, making your way through the castle to the hospital wing. You received a few shocked looks from classmates, but one look from Mattheo, and they instantly turned away. You laughed at this, happy to see the effect of your scary boyfriend.

Both Smith and Cadwallader were in the hospital wing, getting treated for their various cuts and bruises. You couldn't see from afar before, but Riddle really laid into them.

You turned to Mattheo, nodding in their direction. He rolled his eyes but eventually made his way over to them.

"I really don't want to y/n, I've never apologised for a fight." he said on the way over.

"You can start now."

Upon seeing Riddle, both Hufflepuff players instantly sat up, though both looked incredibly surprised to see your hand locked with the Slytherin boys.

"Hi. So I'm sorry, Smith, for picking a fight with you. My girlfriend likes you, so I guess you're alright. I'm not sorry to you though Cadwallader, you wanted to ask my girlfriend out."

Neither one of the boys replied, only stared with their mouths agape.

"Well?" Riddle asked almost threateningly.

"Babe that's not really an apology."

"It's the best they're getting from me." he shrugged before going to sit on a spare bed waiting patiently for Madame Pomfrey.

"Sorry about him." you smiled.

"Its ok y/n, just a bit shocked you're dating."

You nodded and explained how the relationship began.

"I'm happy for you y/n, you deserve a boy who'd kill for you. Preferably not us but oh well." Zacharias eventually said.

"Yeah, y/n, please tell him I'm really sorry for saying I'd ask you out, jheez I had no idea."

"No, it's fine really, how could you have known."

You said your byes and made your way back to Mattheo, who was getting treated by Madam Pomfrey. Upon seeing you, he smiled and opened up the duvet, making way for you.

"You can stay till visiting hours are over." warned Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm sorry again y/n." he whispered once she left.

"Don't be," you said as you turned to rest your head on his chest, "I just wish you would have told me."

He brought up a hand to play with your hair.

"I know, princess, you're mine, dont know why I'd wanna keep that a secret."

"At least Snape will go easier on me now if he knows I'm dating a slytherin."

Mattheo laughed, "You're using me now for connections. Don't worry, my love, everyone will know we're dating, I'll scream it in the courtyard if you want me to."

"That'd be nice."

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fluff #theodore nott #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin #slytherin imagines

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nocturna-iv · 3 months

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You're a loser, baby~

I love the level of detail in "Loser, baby" on a narrative level and how much it can tell us about HuskerDust. Husk didn't want to go after Angel; Charlie sent him. But at that moment, when the mask began to fracture, Husk extended his hand to the real Angel.

The smile? Husk has a plan. The kind of plan that involves pure nihilism and stopping self-judgment so Angel knows he's not alone. Husk doesn't need to do this, but he already knows the real Angel (when he's drunk) and likes him. So, Husk is offering the real Angel his company.

Angel is waiting for the typical “everything is going to be fine” talk. How many times has he heard it? Cuddles, hope, and light But Husk surprises him by treating him like an equal, someone who won't break. Obviously, it bothers Angel, and he gets defensive. Is this guy kidding?

The same guy who was annoyed by Angel's presence is now all over him, with the most pretentious smirk in the universe, calling him a LOSER (and baby). Angel is so confused by the turn of events.

So, obviously, Angel thinks Husk is playing with him. His face says it all! And Husk is still all over him, telling Angel the truth.

In this part, Husk shares his insecurities. Yes, there was a time, but the pain is still there. And from what he's gotten to know Angel, Husk feels like they could connect there. “You are not alone” goes both ways.

Husk manages to get Angel to open but does it with sarcasm. At this point, Angel doesn't think anyone is going to accept him as he is. So, he says something that many know: his contract with Valentino, who has a dangerous reputation. That's the opening Husk was looking for.

This part isn't Husk making light of Angel's situation. He's making it clear to Angel that he's not “unique”, that is, he's not alone. His suffering is not something that separates him from others. Husk is breaking into Angel's self-isolation due to his abusive relationship.

Obviously, Angel doesn't believe him. Years of abuse made it clear to him that no one is going to care for the real Angel. But he's indulgent with Husk, playing along, visibly skeptical, wanting to know where this is all going.

And Husk takes him by surprise again. He is gentle, guiding Angel, giving him space, always offering his hand. It's a fun dance for two. They are both losers. Husk isn't insulting him. He is telling him that it's okay to make mistakes. They both have done it.

So Angel decides to trust. Just a little. Because he knows how people react when they know who he is. Angel is barely singing, not fully entering the song.

And when Husk tells him that he's fine with Angel being like that, it's liberating. Angel sings, there is a crack in his voice, because he is having fun! He is not acting, he is being sporadic and exaggerated, almost a parody of his flirtatious mask.

Now it is Angel who seeks out Husk, recognizing him as the one who can understand him and is liberating! And Husk reaches him, reminding Angel that they're in all of this together. And Angel smiles. A big and real smile.

Husk shares his addictions to give Angel the opportunity to share his in a safe space. And now Angel sings with all his potential, being himself and having fun. And Husk reaffirms him. This is Angel, the real Angel that Husk met when Angel was drunk.

And that is the theme of the song. Embrace who you are and don't be ashamed. Take every self-destructive comment, dirty insult, and don't let them sink you. Say "So what?", it's you, you're fine, you're good.

Accept your mistakes, your failures, your flaws, and stop being your own enemy. It's hard to escape, but there is someone who understands you, and you aren't alone. Existence sucks; bite it with a smile!

And that's the point. Things aren't magically going to get better. The problems are not going to disappear. Life sucks, but you're not alone. The burden doesn't disappear, but it may be more bearable.

Angel is the one who comforts Husk, telling him that yes, existing is difficult, but he's not alone. He has him. And for Husk, that's something. The song is about them, after all.

And Husk tells him that maybe he and Angel can be losers and find happiness.

And now it's Angel who offers Husk his hand. Now it's Husk who puts his hand on Angel's. And Angel can't erase his surprise and smile.

Now Angel is the one accompanying Husk. Angel's voice becomes an instrument that follows Husk in harmony. The fun dance of two returns, but Angel includes his style. Husk no longer has to guide him.

They both reach for each other. Husk extends his hand almost at the same time as Angel, with his eyes closed, extends his.

And in the end? They both support each other, literally and symbolically. They are equals. Husk and Angel meeting in the middle. The real Angel being accepted by Husk.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust

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deadghosy · 2 months

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Ive just been reading your Lucifer big sister headcanons, and thier so so so so good, i love how you wrote it🥰. What about Lucifer with a little sister? Any thoughts? How different would he treat her? Maybe she fell at the same time as him and Lucifer blames himself for leading his sister down the same path as him. I can seen him being a protective older brother because come on their in hell surrounded by sinners its got to be stressful even tho she isnt weak what so ever but Lucifer can help but baby his sweet little sister.

(Obviously no pressure to write this)

Have a nice day 😁👋

As a younger sibling, I was gonna make this as I made the elder sister! So I’m glad you asked this as I can’t help but love to make this version. 🦆 sorry if it’s long, I just had fun making this🔥

YOUNGER SISTER! READER X PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: you are the younger sister of Lucifer Morningstar who fell along her older brother.

Dead ass you fell on top of Lucifer when you both fell from heaven.

“Groannsss….GET OFF!” Lucifer yells pushing you off him. You huffed getting off him as you dust yourself.

I headcannon reader to have a slight rebellious attitude sometimes like Adam but she’s not as terrible.

Like reader has a shirt that says “kiss my ass” with a kiss mark on the shirt as she puts up a rock gesture 🤟

Lucifer found your shirt and burned it, he can’t have his baby sister have such an inappropriate shirt!

“LU-LU! NOOO MY SHIRTTT” “THIS SHIRT IS NASTY LITTLE SIS!-”

He put his hand to your face to keep you away as he burned it. It was a funny sight as you huffed kicking him in his nuts as he groaned falling face first to the ground.

I also headcannon that reader is the reason why Charlie had a emo phase as reader kinda has a different aesthetic than Lucifer.

But on a serious note, Lucifer was kinda scared when you fell with him as he puts his hand through his hair watching you sleep. He couldn’t believe he brought his baby sister with him on his down fall. He knew he influenced you as you looked up to him more than the other angels. It was like if you were his child, his baby.

But he tucks you in bed as you were sprawled out in your bed snoring loudly. He chuckles kissing your head and leaving your room as he closes your door with a slight sad look.

Back to the funny sibling things, you are definitely the one who sneaks in the kitchen to take his leftovers for payback. After Lucifer walks out of his workshop tired and hungry.

You basically told him to take care of himself more. He walked in the kitchen to find his leftovers gone. So you could tell what happened next.

“Y/NNNNN!” You heard a fierce yell as you had shoved the food down your mouth and ran as you heard a loud flapping of wings behind you. “WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU BETTER PRAY!”

It’s was so cartoony at how Lucifer chases you while you ran for you life. You have wings but he flys better than you so it’s no use.

He caught you, making you cook dinner for a month as you groan while he smirks patting a duck like a mafia man. “And you better wash the dishes too-” “NOW YOU ASKIN' TOOO MUCHHH!”

But soon the sinners came and made the freedom Lucifer gave them, turn into pure hell as you watch worried at the stress your older brother had. Lucifer tries to smile to show you it’s not affecting him, but it is.

He soon makes you stay all time in the palace, scared for your safety as you stay in your room worried at how isolated he soon becomes. Charlie would walk around babbling about you as she kept your company. You smile at your cute niece giving her boops to her nose.

I also headcannon you and Lucifer are like secret twins as you both hyper fixate about a lot of things like [favorite thing] as he hyper fixates on ducks and gives you his ducks to show off how cool he is as your older brother.

But also I can see reader being shorter than Lucifer, like to his shoulder as Lucifer blinks like a frog as you smile with an evil gremlin ready to stab someone.

But now for some overprotective brother headcannons.

You know how Lucifer when to see Charlie at her hotel, you joined wearing basically a female version of Lucifer’s outfit. But you wore shades to off your ✨coolness✨

Alastor was irritated at your louder personality but you also had a charming aura around you like how Lucifer has his prideful smile. Alastor smirks down at you as you are shorter than Lucifer, he kisses your hand with made you just stand there with a dotted blank expression.

Immediately Lucifer picks you up like a doll as he growls at Alastor like a dog ready to chump his hand off. He knew the radio demon just wanted to piss him off, so the whole time you were in the hotel with him. He always has you close and behind him from the radio demon.

Now if it was a sinner trying to court you, they better hope you don’t snitch like the young sibling you are. Cause ohhhh boy! Lucifer is teleporting to their house to give them nightmares. Maybe even killing them if they made you uncomfortable.

Heaven and hell agrees you are a cutie, demon or angel. Cause in heaven there were angels trying to court you but your brother was always behind you looking stern as he puff his chest trying to see if they suit you best.

Like literally he scares people off as you stand there minding your business.

“I feel a disturbance in the air…” Lucifer says as he was reading a book but pulls the curtains to see an angel trying to court you with their wings.

Immediately you’re being teleported to your room confused as a duck poofs in your hand.

“What the fuckkkk….” You say confused

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #platonic Lucifer Morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #younger sister #young sibling activities #sister reader #young readers #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x you

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barb-l · 1 month

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Just wanna take a moment to talk about how much I adore Vaggie's verse in "Whatever It Takes", especially this line.

Because it makes so much sense after finding out Vaggie's backstory. Unlike the other residents in the Hotel, Vaggie wasn't someone that needed Charlie to be redeemed. Vaggie had always been a good person. She was a real angel who put down her weapon and refused to kill a child, even if it were a demon.

Lute saw Vaggie's mercy as a weakness and flaw that made her undeserving of her halo. Vaggie didn't need someone who saw and believed in the good in her. The problem is that she was seen as sinful just because she extended her kindness towards someone supposedly damned for eternal punishment.

Meeting Charlie made her realize that she wasn't alone. Vaggie is an outcasted angel for showing mercy to a demon, while Charlie is a ridiculed demon for believing in redemption for damned sinners. Charlie understood how it felt to be punished for her kindness, but still persevered with who she is, and so Vaggie does too.

One of the things I love about their relationship is that Charlie didn't "fix" Vaggie. She saved her, yes, but Vaggie had always had that good in her that she acted upon despite the consequences even before meeting Charlie. Such a pure soul like Charlie deserves someone whose kindness isn't dependent on their romantic relationship. It's why Vaggie saying that she believes in Charlie's dream aren't just empty words for the sake for supporting a loved one. Vaggie may be more realistic about it, but she definitely means what she says. She has saved a demon before, heaven's orders be damned. So she'll help Charlie save many more.

Vaggie isn't just helping Charlie with hotel just because she's being a good girlfriend. Well, she is duh but also they both just genuinely care about people even Heaven abandoned. That's why she and Charlie are partners.

#hazbin hotel #'vaggie is a bland character whose existence is dependent of charlie' u just dont see her the way i doooo #just because her whole world revolves around charlie #doesnt mean she has nothing going for her as a character without their relationship yanno #that's a criticism more fitting for --AHEM!#chaggie #vaggie #this is a vaggie appreciation post #a real angel!

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eelhound · 5 months

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"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

#ursula k. le guin #homer #quote #quotations #the iliad #trojan war #storytelling #fantasy #fiction writing #war #conflict #tragedy #john milton #paradise lost #greek mythology

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abbyonmars · 2 months

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SMUT! MDNI

fem!reader. pure porn with no plot. wc: 854

—

no thoughts, just servicetop!ellie

her slender fingers would run up the sides of your body with slow, tender movements. she'd want to take her time with you, despite how much your body would involuntarily squirm and wriggle under each small graze; ellie would be absolutely enamoured by how worked up you'd get over her, and she'd only want to draw more out from your pretty and quivering lips.

"shh, shh, shh," she'd whisper, moving up to brush her lips real close to your ear. "i got you. jus' stay still for me, angel."

and while one hand would occupy itself by cupping the side of your flushed face, the other would continue to trail steadily between your tits, over your heaving chest and towards your soaking heat.

"what do you need me to do?" she'd ask. the corner of her lip would tug upward meanwhile, knowing you'd fail to come up with a coherent response. as predicted, delicate, tiny whimpers would spill continuously from your mouth and she'd tut gently at you, chuckling lowly into your ear. "words, my love. i need to hear you, c'mon."

"p-please," you'd whine, eyes skirting around in desperation. anything, you needed anything. "f-fuck. need you to touch me, els."

"hmm.. mmhm," she'd almost sound smug, the way she'd hum quietly into your ear. she'd know that the simplest thing like the rasp in her voice would get you going.

she'd fight the urge to tease you just a little longer — she'd kiss the spot beneath your ear, between your scrunching brows, and the two corners of your lips. she'd take pity on your glossed over eyes and scrunching face, and would finally edge her long fingers closer and closer to the throbbing ache of your cunt.

you'd feel her middle and ring slip seamlessly through your slit, the oozing slick from your pussy coating her digits. she'd hum again, eyeing the glistening wetness and the string of it connecting you with her fingers.

"such a pretty pussy," she'd coo. "'m gonna take real good care of you, ma. my gorgeous girl."

she'd slip a finger past your folds and you'd suck it in instantaneously, clenching your sopping hole around it. she'd feel a pulse hammering in your cunt with her finger, and she'd believe wholeheartedly that your insides were just so perfectly indented with the mould of her.

she'd smile at you as you'd choke out a moan, taking it as her signal to push faster. in and out, in and out, listening intently to the wet noises of squelching bouncing around the room.

"relax," she'd whisper, kissing a trail to your jaw. "you're doing so good f'me. you sound so beautiful."

once your head would tilt back into the softness of your pillow, her mouth would find your neck and she'd suck softly, eliciting the cutest groans and wobbly noises from your throat. and with her finger still pumping in and out of you she'd play with your clit, running over it with the pad of her thumb, circling and flicking quickly to please you further.

and as if you thought you couldn't reach a higher depth of bliss, her warm mouth would wrap around your erected left nipple, the strong muscle of her tongue swirling 'round and 'round its bud. your back would arch further into her chest but she'd gently push you back into the mattress with her forearm, humming once again into your breast.

the knot in your stomach would grow tighter and tighter, the familiar tingling sensation heightening with intensity from between your thighs. as if she could tell you were close, she'd add a second finger to stretch you out even wider for her.

"c'mon," she'd grunt, her lips dripping with spit at your tits. her free hand had come down to play with your nipple as she sucked the other, filling up her mouth with you.

"e-els," you'd croak, the muscles of your lower stomach tightening and loosening rapidly. "i'm g.. i'm gonna cum..!"

"s'okay, baby, you got it," she'd mumble against you, swapping over her mouth and hand to lick at your other breast. "let go f'me, cum on my fingers."

and with that, you'd come undone. your vision would flood with white, tingling euphoria overwhelming each one of your senses.

ellie would fuck you through your high, needing to hear the sighs and gasps of pleasure before she'd take herself out of you. she'd take her fingers into her mouth to taste you, moaning quietly from the coat of your warm cum against her tongue.

she'd kiss you softly after sex, treat you with utmost sensitivity as if you were a fragile doll. never letting you move a finger, she'd be sure to clean you up and leave planted kisses along the way.

"good job, dove." she'd tuck your head into the crook of her neck, running her fingers up and down the softness of your back under the duvet. "so, so perfect."

ellie would whisper sweet words into your ear, knowing you were overcome with exhaustion. she'd hold you close, keeping you safe as you fell asleep in her arms.

—

i'm boutta cuhhh

my first smut piece...!

ellie lives rent free in my mind

#lesbian #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #wlw #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #smut #ellie williams tlou2

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hyunsvngs · 7 months

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Ot8 and the little pain face they would make when sliding in >>>

(hellowww my exams are over so I'll be sliding in w my perv thoughts hehe pls bear w me 🤭)

-❄️

iiii have been thinking abt this since it dropped in my inbox but i have been so intensely busy but it’s still been bouncing around my brain like a dvd standby screen.

chan: chan is sooo eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, letting out a little ‘oh, fuck, baby…’ just in pure awe. likes to look at your facial expressions too!! he wants to see you in pleasure like he is…

minho: i’ve spoken about this before but imagining minho pushing in and going ‘theerrree you go baby, big stretch..’ and his eyes are staring down at you, his chest heaving and little puffs of air coming out of his mouth

changbin: changbin would whine. he’d scrunch his nose up ever-so-cute, little pout on his lips and a whine as if he can’t fucking believe it!! probably says smth like ‘ah, binnie’s bunny’s too tight!’ as he tries to let u adjust:((

hyunjin: he’d smirk. pushes inside and his head falls back, eyes shut and he’d just fucking smirk, a little sigh coming out.. ‘that’s it. pussy’s fucking amazing, darling.’ !!!!

jisung: oh he’d so look in pain. his eyes are immediately teary when he breaches your hole, hands digging into your hips almost painfully and he’s staring down with you with such an earnest expression. ‘baby, my baby, i need- can i move?’ wants to be so good but hes soo desperate:(

felix: another smiler but definitely a full toothed grin lmfao. his dick’s slowly entering you and he’s smiling, looking like a fucking angel n jus saying ‘is that good? feels so fuckin’ good for me.’ in his deep voice oh hes SOOO

seungmin: oh definitely stares at you with dark eyes, and will NOT let you break eye contact. ‘don’t you fucking dare,’ he’d mutter it as he’s bottoming out, gripping your face, ‘don’t fucking look away from me, look at me as i fill you up.’

jeongin: bites your shoulder and moans so so loud as he fills you up with his cock. definitely the type to be all “ah, yeah, this wet pussy is exactly what i need.” ygm??? like SOOOO cocky with it… ohhhh yes. i think sometimes he’d like to also do a seungmin and keep eye contact with you 😏

#juno’s asks ♡#asks: ot8 #❄️ anon 💌

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maybankswhore · 1 year

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jj maybank badboy x good girl: headcanon slightly!nsfw

it wasn’t a secret that jj got around the island.

he was never one to stay with one girl for too long. always a quick ‘hit it & quit it’ or he’d date them for a couple days then get bored.

it had always been every man for himself.

between the fighting and drinking , smoking pot and partying— jj just wasn’t the type of guy that wanted to settle down.

he really wasn’t.

not until he met you.

god , he remembered seeing you for the first time at a bonfire.

you looked so shy and pretty. glistening under the moonlight like it was a spotlight to get his attention.

as cliche as it was , you weren’t like other girls.

not to him.

you were beautiful but you were kind. every time he looked over at you , you were smiling , engaging in conversation with every person and each one looked completely different than the last.

you had this aura around you that was so sweet , so pure.

he had to have you.

for the first time , in a long time , jj had absolutely no fucking idea on how to approach you.

his stomach was in knots. he thought he was gonna hurl.

“she’s never gonna go for you.” pope laughed in his face when he realized what had jj so off.

jj scoffed. “oh yea? watch her.”

all he had to do was walk up to you and smile that toothy ass grin of a smile , blonde hair in every which way from surfing all of that day , a boyish look on his face as he charmed you.

the minute his hand brushed the skin of your cheek , telling you how pretty you were ,

you were done for.

after that , the two of you became inseparable.

everyone was surprised at how quickly jj was able to settle down.

he became obsessed with you.

if he was at a party ,

you were right there next to him.

when he went to bonfire’s or smoked weed with kiara ,

he would bring you.

he was fully convinced you were an angel sent down from heaven just for him.

so beautiful and so sweet.

he couldn’t believe you were his.

you were just as smitten.

it was like you were thirteen getting crushes on the cool , older boys that would have you in a haze for days thinking about them.

he consumed you.

“you were made for me , baby.” he would always tell you , a moaning mess in your ear as he defiled you— marking every inch of your body as his.

you always responded so well to him. your back nearly breaking as you arched it , whimpering his name over and over again as he praised you , kissed you , claimed you.

you were his girl.

and he fully intended on keeping it that way.

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks #outer banks imagines

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leoascendente · 6 months

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PAC/ Who is your FS and your relationship dynamic 💖

Hi my loves and welcome to this new pac!💕 Today we'll check details about your FS and how your relationship will be when you are finally together. My FS pacs and personal readings are focused in the love of your life, soulmates and twin flame connections, here you'll get glimpses of the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with, this is part of what I do in private Fs readings.

Take a deep breath before choosing your pile, keep what resonates with you and leave what doesn't. You can choose more than one pile if you feel to.

Decks I used: green witch oracle, spirit animal oracle, romance angels oracle, astrodices and my homemade charms

For personal readings click here

All pics are from pinterest, credits to their owners

Pile 1/ Pile 2

Pile 3/ Pile 4

Pile 1:

~ Details about them:

(Cards: bobcat, swan, eagle, grasshoper/ chili, sweet corn, marjoram)

❤️‍🔥 This person has a magnetic aura, doberman type of beauty in males and siren type in females, they might look a little intimidating on the outside. They are extremely sexy and magnetic without trying, your Fs surely have a big amount of admirers because of their looks, they are also extremely charismatic what makes people feel naturally drawn to them.

❤️‍🔥 They have a deep emotional world, they can get lost in their own feelings and can be guarded with others, have a sharp intuition too. They keep a lot to themselves, I have to warn you that they have a tough shell to avoid pain, they have seen and experienced a lot of ugly things in their past and it takes time for them to open up in emotional terms.

❤️‍🔥 They are into the mysterious aspect of life, they are surely into conspiracy theories or occultism. Somehow they are connected to higher powers, even if they are not aware of this they are very spiritually guided and protected, I'd take it as a sign that your Fs has a good and pure heart regardless of their tough exterior.

❤️‍🔥 They are into adrenaline and risky or extreme activities, maybe they have hobbies that are usually seen as dangerous, I'm seeing motorbikes and martial arts especially. They are into high performance sports as an usual hobby, their physical structure is fit and strong due to all the physical activity they make on a daily basis.

❤️‍🔥 Your Fs is courageous, they don't mind getting in trouble to defend what they believe it's right, they are not scared of confrontation. I feel they have an strong sense of justice, they might get into trouble to defend people that are being treated badly. Surely your FS has an strong temper, very masculine energy for what I'm sensing.

❤️‍🔥 Powerful, confident and protective of their close ones, very dark sense of humor and love for extreme emotions. They have an strong sexual energy too, expect them to be very active and spontaneous in this aspect.

❤️‍🔥 The have a mix of fire and water energies, this is a very intense mix of energies for someone to have, definitely not for the weak. I'm getting Aries, Leo and Scorpio energy from your Fs.

❤️‍🔥 They remind me of Geralt de Rivia or Kaz Brekker from 6 of Crows, they have this natural charm mixed with the mysterious look on the outside. Your Fs might have tattoos too, I see an snake or dragon tattoo on the back or maybe on one arm.

❤️‍🔥 Your Fs feels happy and content with their life right now, their rutine and daily habits are aligned with their wellbeing and they feel satisfied with the direction of their current life. They are working into being more aligned with the thing that makes them feel good, they are releasing toxicity from their life, either it be people, habits, enviroments or patterns.

❤️‍🔥 They are an animal lover, a cat person I'm getting, they are a sweetheart on the inside but they prefer to keep this tender face very secretive. They are extremely loyal but their bad trait is being possesive, if that's not something negative to you just know that your Fs will he obsessed with only you.

~ Dynamic of the relationship:

(Cards: stay optimistic about your love life, let your friends help you, healing family issues/ Astrodices: aquarius, jupiter, 11th house/ Charms: diamond, swallow, star, trisquelion)

I'm getting that you won't like their attitude the first time you meet them, the card of pay attention to the red flags tried to drop a few times before getting the card of healing family issues, so it won't be love at first sight even though they will look very attractive, I'm hearing a phrase I heard to a friend, it says: they are not that handsome to compensate being that much of an asshole 😅. I get with this that you'll be mirroring eachother at first, you will reject them but you both will feel drawn to eachother like you have a magnet pulling you both, if your love story was a book, it would be booktok's favorite, it gives me enemies to lovers vibe lol. The relationship will be filled by passion and fun, they will be the new in your group of friends or you'll be the new in theirs, however it is there are more people involved here but in a good way, it could be that a common friend that introduce eachother too. Ngl, this person will trigger you and awake some emotional issues you haven't solved at the beginning but this will happen to them as well, it wil take patience and the release of control from both of you, let the people you trust give you a helping hand when you need it, you have good people around to rely on or at least you will have them by the moment you meet your Fs. You will feel very attracted to eachother but at the same time is like you two get both on your nerves, I see your FS will love to tease you and see how you respond them, if you are sharp and sassy when someone teases you, your FS will love your comebacks to their comments, it is like you challenge them and they love it, they'll love your charisma too. I honestly see here a lot of personal growth, you'll both will learn a lot about yourselves and the other and this will help you both overcome limitating beliefs or patterns that were holding you back in relationships but also in other areas of your lives.

This relationship might have something unconventional, maybe your dynamic or the way you approach it, it can be a lot of different options for different people but this feels like not following the traditional standards of a relationship, you both will agree in this. You both have a very supportive enviroment, friendships are very present here so I must congrat you not only for finding your divine counterpart but also for having such nice and loving friends too, I'm getting that you are destined to find your soul tribe. There's marriage here, or at least there is a serious commitment, maybe your wedding/commitment is more spiritual than religious but I see some kind of private celebration. For some I'm hearing that you can meet through social media, being very active on this to communicate or maybe your soul mission together involves social media to share something with others. I'm watching two people doing facetime at night to talk about how their day was, ngl maybe this starts as a long distance relationship, maybe your FS has a different cultural background or is from a foreign country, you both might need some time to adapt and understand eachother's perspective of life but after that everything will flow smoothly.

Your Fs is your soulmate, you have met in past lives and you have a divine purpose together in this one, this might be the reason why at first you'll trigger and challenge eachother, to grow in a soul level that align both of you with your soul mission. This relationship is fiery and passionate, you'll encourage eachother to become your best versions and manifest all your dreams, you will love to see the other shine and succeed. Your relationship will be very protected by both of your ancestors and spirit teams, your connection feels spiritual and ethereal like your souls recognize eachother before your mind is able to process it. This totally gives me power couple vibes, I also see some level of fame or public recognition in your relationship in the positive way, like you'll inspire others somehow. I'm seeing angel numbers 444, 1818, a trisquelion, a full moon and a bald eagle, take them as signs when they present to you in any way or form.

Pile 2:

~ Details about them:

(Cards: buffalo, dog, skunk, antelope/ rosemary, geranium, strawberry, lemon)

🍀 Your Fs doesn't have an inch of malice in their body, they are a sweetheart in all their essence, they are romantic, protective and caring. They have this golden light surrounding them that gives me such a warm feeling, like being in a safe and comfortable place around their energy. Btw, they are very attractive

🍀 If pile 1 was a doberman, your Fs is totally a golden retriever, they are lovely to extremes, they are very loved by the people that knows them, they are adorable, the perfect description of a sweetheart, nobody has nothing bad to say against yor Fs. They are highly compassionate with everyone, their beloved ones rely a lot on your Fs when they need advice or help with anything.

🍀 They are an extrovert, they surely love to spend time outside and have a good time with their friends, your FS really gives me fire sign energy. They are a natural lucky person, fortune makes their way into your Fs' life easily and it's mostly because of their optimistic view of life that they attract so much positivity. They believe in karma, destiny and soulmates.

🍀 They are goofy and funny, the one that makes everyone laugh without trying. It feels like is almost impossible to have bad feelings torward your FS because they gain everybody's hearts with their lighthearted personality, everyone has good words to describe your Fs, mostly their closest people that know them in deeper levels.

🍀 They can be a little naive when it comes to other people's intentions, they have this belief that if they treat everyone kindly everyone will be kind to them, they surely have been through some dissapointments due to this trait but they don't seem to mind it. I like their mindset of not letting the evilness of the world mess with their empathy and good heart, they have an strong sense of honor.

🍀 They are hopeful, optimistic and loyal, they are the first to offer a helping hand when anybody is in need. They value loyalty a lot, they might have an inner wound related to betrayals. They are very family oriented, like they want to settle down soon and find the person they want to build a life with, they might be more traditional in terms of relationships.

🍀 If Eddie Munson and Steve Rogers personalities could combine they would materialize as your FS, your FS is very reliable and trustworthy, they love to help others in everything they can and more. I would suggest you to ask them for help even when you don't really need it, it just feels great to them to be helpful and will feel very grateful if you feel you can count on them.

🍀 Damn your Fs is adorable, I think i'm gonna choose this pile too 😂. Their feelings are pure and filled with love, they are kinda of a secret romantic, they might not show it but they love to surprise with kind gestures to their beloved ones. They'll like to embody the gentlemen attitude with you, they'll pamper you with so much love and attention, like they go walking and sees a flower and pick it for you, or the kind that sends you songs or quotes that remind them of you.

🍀 They are learning to set healthy boundaries, I see they are currently in a process of healing where they are cleansing their energies, I feel they are going through an spiritual intervention but they probably are not aware of the divine precense. They might be through a period of purge and they are leaving behind people that were harming them, their bad trait is to be a little of a people pleaser but they are working on it, they just don't want to harm anybody.

🍀 Your Fs is very into physical touch but their main love language is acts of service, they enjoy making other people's lifes easier. They are into pda too, their body language may seem overprotective sometimes, they are the kind of people that would do anything for their person and somehow their thoughts reflect on their body language. Take as signs when you see sequences with number 2, shooting stars, owls or white cats.

~ Dynamic of the relationship:

(Cards: true love, religious factors, retreat, wedding/ Astrodices: libra, neptune, 6th house/ Charms: rose quartz, bouquet, spike, white heart)

I'm getting that you already know who your FS is regardless if you had anything romantic with them in the past or not, they have appeared in your life before but the circumstances weren't the right ones to begin something romantic. Whenever you have coincided, one of you had their energies really unbalanced and the other part was having a deep healing, it was the correct person on the wrong time. You have barely interacted with them, for some of you, I even doubt you have noticed them if you have crossed paths before and this might be some kind of spiritual protection for you, to not crave too much for them and to not distract you from the process you were in. For others on this pile I'm getting that you might be their crush and you don't know it, or maybe they are your crush but you have barely had contact with them and you take it as delulu, however it is the energy around you two feels familiar. You'll both will feel very comfortable with eachother from the first moment you start interacting, this will be your sign to know that you are meant to be together, everything will feel natural and cozy around them, like you can lay and rest after a long run. If there has been any kind of distance or separation, when they are back into your life they will enter it with all the intentions to offer you a serious commitment and telling you clearly that they want a relationship with you, you got the card of wedding so you both surely will get married at some point too that I feel it will be soon after you start dating, I'd say a time lapse of a year after you start your relationship

Your FS is your soulmate, your relationship was meant to happen so there will not be anybody else after you meet them, this is the person you are going to marry and live a happy life together. I'm getting that this will be a very healthy and balanced relationship, you'll be very respectful and compassionate about the other's feelings, this gives me the vibe of thelepatic communication for many of you, especially the ones on this pile who are already in tune with their spiritual nature. There's this energy of healing surrounding your relationship, for both of you your relationship will involve soul healing from past pain and closing karmic cicles, there's no fear here of being misunderstood or judged, it is all understanding and empathy.

Ngl, the charms talk about some opponents to your relationship and the feeling I'm getting is because someone is jealous of the harmony you and your FS share, there's someone who operates through a negative perspective that won't like to see you two happy, for some of you might be your ex or your Fs' ex, for some I see your Fs' ex is the toxic person they are dettaching from. The spike talks about interferences but not something to be worried about, it is just a warning to prevent any bad energy to mess with your relationship, I'd suggest you to keep it private until you decide to formalize, this will help keep bad energies away. Anyway, the rest of the charms are all about love, tbh I think you got all the love charms I got lol, so romance, passion and affection are surely present through all your relationship. This person will want long term commitment and they will make this very clear, I also see they won't have eyes for anybody else but you, you are the love of eachother's life. The overall dynamic of your relationship is give and receive, both of you have generous and kind hearts and your relationship will be a safe place for you two to share all the love you both have in your hearts, you'll take very good care of eachother and I'm very happy for you. If you are open to have children they will become a source of pure happiness and pride for your Fs and you.

Pile 3:

~ Details about them:

(Cards: dolphin, electric eel, nightingale, bear/ tomato, orange, onion, cucumber)

🪐 They give me very aquarius energy, they are a visionary who likes to think outside of the box and dream big, they have high expectations for their future too. This person likes to keep always learning and progressing in life, not the kind who gives up easilly, they give me the vibe of working smart and not that hard because they have this intellectual energy around them

🪐 Their mind is mesmerizing, they are the kind of person you could hear talking for hours and you'd never get tired of them. There's something about their voice or how they express themselves that is hypnotizing for others, they might be air dominant in their natal chart because they have a gift for communication.

🪐 This is my pile of friends to lovers dynamic and I feel it's mostly because your Fs wants to be friendly with you in your first interactions, they'll like you for a relationship from the very first moment but they'll want to make things right for you and give the proper steps without rushing the outcome.

🪐 Your FS is a social and outgoing person, they are very adaptable and versatile when it comes to people but at the same time they know how to keep loyal to themselves. They have a bright and vibrant personality, they are also very funny.

🪐 They are very skillful, I'm getting that they are a lot into technologies and for some, they are really a genius on sciences or maths. I'm also getting that they are into video games or something like that, I see a person with different types of screens in front of them so it gives me the vibe of videogames (but Idk shit about technology o take it as it resonates)

🪐 They are very open minded, they don't like to judge someone by their appearance, they are able to see further than the surface of people. They don't like to take things for granted so this makes them want to make efforts to keep getting better, some people see a beautiful flower and pick it up, your Fs is the kind that take care of the plant through the whole year and waits for more flowers to bloom on the spring

🪐 Your Fs is very funny, they maybe are not the conventional type of beauty but they really cute, like Stiles Stilinski. They have a natural charm that goes beyond physical attractiveness and I feel that growing up being the ugly duck made them cultivate other attractive skills that they have mastered.

🪐 They are straight forward with their opinions, they feel very confident on their values and morals so they don't mind to speak their truth out loud. They are very mental, an overthinker surely, they are not the most emotional person in the world and their love language is not words of affirmation but it is related to communication.

🪐They are very loving and protective with the people they really care for, they got cards that makes me feel that when they love, they do it with all their heart and at all cost, there's no middle terms for your Fs, it's all or nothing. Take as signs when you see 1212, 333, nightingales, angelic symbology and red roses.

~ Dynamic of the relationship:

(Cards: past life relationship, religious factors, trust, true love/ Astrodices: pisces, north node, 8th house/ Charms: aventurine, white heart, shell, bouquet, agate)

I suggest you to check pile 2 in case you felt called to that pile too, both groups got similar cards and charms.

Okay, for what I'm seeing here I 'm getting the vibe of partners in crime, your Fs is going to be your more trusted accomplice, I feel a lot of emotional intimacy shared here, like you know eachother darkest secrets and fully accep them with no judgements. The overall energy I'm picking from your relationship is peace and acceptance, you won't have to wear any mask to please your Fs or viceversa, your relationship is like a safe shelter in the middle of a chaotic world and you both will be highly grateful with the connection you two share. You'll feel like you are capable of anything with your FS by your side, they'll be extremely supportive of you and will help you to reach your personal goals, I'm hearing that they will got your back in your mischiefs too. This relationship gives me the feeling of two kids living their dreams at its fullest, there's this lighthearted and innocent energy surrounding your bond that really makes my heart warm. You might already know who your Fs is but there's separation at the moment, for some it can be that you already know them but you doubt if they trully are the person meant for you. You'll have to trust the process at the first stages of the relationship, this can be a twin flame connection and this type of soul bonds require spiritual growth. Both of you will have to supress the outside interferences and listen to your heart to recognize eachother, you got the true love card so it won't be difficult to find out.

The dices are confirming another level of soul connection, this feels sweet and ethereal. You two share a common soul mission in this lifetime and will be fullfiled greatly, if you have children your grandkids will brag and daydream about your love story, especially if you have a granddaughter (or will have it in the future) she will take your relationship as a role model for her life too. You'll build an empire or a dinasty, something significative that will last for a long time, deep inside you know you are meant for great things and this is your confirmation with the extra info that you'll reach the stars with the love of your life by your side. I''m also seeing with the 8th house that the sexual connection will be on a higher level too, maybe at some point of the relationship you start learning more about tantric practices or take your intimate moments to connect on a deeper level. I see too that you'll make time and space through all your relationship to dedicate to eachother and keep the spark shinning.

You'll be very aware of what the other is feeling or thinking, it feels like you are one soul separated in two different bodies, you'll be very similar in some aspects and very opposite in others but you'll know how to adapt to the other effortlessly, it will feel like you have known eachtoher since birth. I also see that you'll know when something happens to the other even if you are in different places, the spiritual connection will be so strong and both of you so curious and intelligent that you'll start digging more in spiritual teachings, this will make you release mental patterns or expectations about how your lives should be, even in your aspirations in life you'll have a very similar point of view. I see a lot of gift giving and romantic surprises but it's because you'll be living in eachother's mind 24/7 rent free and everything reminds you to eachother but not in an anxious way, in fact this feels very peaceful and loving, like everytime you cross eachother's mind you can't help but smile.

Pile 4:

~ Details about them:

(Cards: ant, wombat, lion, wasp, bee/ tarragon, lime, rosemary, marygold)

🎀 Your FS is an introvert, they love their alone time and spending time at home. I see your Fs is very crafty and have many different hobbies they do by themselves, speially something that needs the hands to be done like puzzles or painting.

🎀They are a kind soul, more sensitive than they would like to admit, they can be an empath and doesn't even know about it. They are a little shy when it comes to interacting with people in love terms, they can be a little clumsy in the first approach due to their nerves

🎀 They deal with a rough past in general, not just in relationships. I'm hearing bullying so this might be something your Fs had to go through in their early years. This makes a lot of sense with their empathy, they have suffered so much that they know how to put themselves in the shoes of others and deeply understand them

🎀 They are the kind of person that likes to take the positive out of every situation, no matter if the circumstances are hurtful to them, they always know how to give an step back and take the lesson hidden behind the circumstances

🎀 They have a lucky magnet, like they are naturally blessed by life because their heart is pure and filled with good intentions. They also have a very nice balance between their mind and their heart so they surely ate very emotionally intelligent

🎀 They are a very generous person in every aspect so if you are into the provider type of partner your Fs is going to be above your expectations. They give me very earthy energy so their love language could majorly be acts of services or material gifts (it's 13:13 as I'm writting this, maybe it's a relevant number for you)

🎀 I'm getting that they are regenerating themselves at the moment, they got tarragon and rosemary cards that gives me the feeling that they are healing hard childhood memories. This energy is more mental than emotional so they might be trying some mental reprogramming like healing intrusive thoughts or a cruel inner voice.

🎀 They are very sweet but not with everyone, like pile one, your Fs has a tough shell but they are willing to open up with the right person. They fear being judged but they are not scared of rejection, your Fs isn't able to see how much bravery and courage they hold within themselves, they can have a very demanding or perfectionist inner voice, they give me very virgo energy.

🎀 I'm hearing that they regenerate pretty easilly in emotional and physical level too so they like to take care of their health, they barely get sick and when they do it doesn't last more than a few days, they are blessed in health terms

🎀 They got a prosperous and successful future, they are destined to make something significative and positive for everyone, they just need a little more confidence in themselves to fully believe it but their path is clear and it is meant to be great. Take as signs of your Fs numbers 1111 and 777, also bees, clovers and a bonfire.

~ Dynamic of the relationship:

( Cards: children, free yourself, passion, keep an open mind/ Astrodices: gemini, the sun, 4th house/ Charms: garnet, rose quartz, pink heart, boat)

Let's start saying that if your Fs doesn't have already a child they want children with you, if you have children your Fs will be very caring and attentive with them too. This person is very family oriented, they might have a more traditional perspective of relationships, they'll take their role in the relationship very seriously. You'll feel very connected from the very first moment, I see that from all the piles this relationship will be the fastest to formalize, it will be very clear for both of you that you want to be together. At first some doubts can appear because your Fs might not match your expectations but you'll have to check if your standards are being realistic so take this message as it resonates with you. Once the doubts are released the connection will feel like the sun is shinning only for the two of you, you'll feel like you can be fully yourself by your Fs' side, you won't have to worry if you look nice or how you manner, they'll love to see and praise every part of you, if you deal with physical insecurities your Fs will be very caring in this aspect too. You can behave like a little child and be goofy with your Fs, they'll make a safe space for you where you don't have to fullfil any expectation, you can relax and fully express yourself as you really want to, your Fs will also ignite your confidence a lot.

You'll have a great communication, you both will feel comfortable enough to express with eachother things you would never share with anybody else, I'm really amazed of how deep your conversations can turn, you can share your most silly thoughts with tour Fs and they would so the same with you because you will understand eachother so much. You both will feel seen and valued in your relationship, you recognize the worth of eachother and the connection you will share, your Fs will make you feel cared and protected and they will feel more brave and strong because of you, you will encourage eachother to follow your dreams. With the 4th house I see that the concept of home will be very important for you two, you both have the same expectations of what a family should be and will create it together.

You'll have a happy home life together, I see you'll have a very nice and cozy house you two will love to spend time in. You will value a lot your moments together and alone, you'll take a lot of care of your intimacy and privacy, I see you will be selective with the people you let in in your lives or the energies you allow in in general. You will achieve some of your goals that will lead you to have more responsabilities that will demand your time and energy, your Fs and you will compensate this by traveling together or make small retreats, I see that some of you will like to escape near nature on your free days. Your relationship will be filled with passion and romance, you will also gain power in some areas of your life by your Fs' side.

#Spotify #witchblr #leoascendente #divination witch #tarot #tarotblr #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #love tarot spread #fs tarot #future spouse #future spouse tarot

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animeshotsh · 3 months

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We love you | VariousYandere x Sinner!Reader HCS

Summary: Characters from HH being obsses over you.

Warnings: Alastor's part has Mentions of cannibalism - Valentino's part its DARK - Mentions of brainwashing - Most of them are slight!Yandere but still Yandere no less - Stalking - Killing - NSFW SINCE IT HAS SUGESSTIVE THEMES -

☆ Charlie

It does not matter if you happen to be one of the worst sinners from the circle or a top overlord who makes everybody fear them. Charlie its just obsses with you.

She sees something good, deep down in you. And wants to bring that out (or maybe its her being lovestruck).

She Will use her princess status to bring you to her hotel.

Will follow you around and ask for your opinion and likes. No matter if your responds are harsh, she will be in cloud nine with them

☆ Vaggie

As a former Angel she is carefull around sinners. She wants to protect Charlie and herself. Then you appear and now not all sinners seem bad.

Thinks you should be in heaven but wont complain since she gets to pass time with you.

Her love for you its platonic.

Wants you to be under her watch 24/7. If she has work at the hotel then you have it as well. The same as hers.

Tells Charlie about you and Charlie its supportive of her. Believes Vaggie needs more Friends and you seem like a good person!!

☆ Angel Dust

Its afraid to approach you because for a sinner you seem pure. Not like him. He believes he is too dirty for you.

Tries to convince himself that he justs wants to corrupt you and thats it. That there are not Real feelings involved.

The minute he hears someone tried something on you he is getting hella protective and will go and look for them.

If it was Valentino he will console you the best he can. Will break his walls to let you in.

Hugs you with his four arms against his chest. Makes sexual comments but gets flustered when you respond with more intimate ones on emotional level.

Just like he fought for his Friends he would do the same for you.

☆ Husk

One of the most tamed ones.

He is quick to know he feels something for you and wants to keep you only for himself.

Reminds him of his old overlord days when the most terrorific ideas plagued his mind.

Would totally gamble with you for your soul if he could.

Tries to keep you away from Alastor knowing the radio Demon may use you to get to him.

He also wants you to avoid him because Husk knows he means trouble.

☆ Sir.Pentious

He is so confused.

You two meet as enemies or by being amazed by his creations.

His eggs are quicker to catch up how he is feeling, asks him if he wants them to kindapp you.

He wants but wont do it.

Will try to impress you but fail.

Follows you everywhere.

Claims its what Friends do or that he is doing it to keep a closer eye on his enemy.

Fainfs when you give him little attention.

☆ Alastor

The one who once he starts to realize what is happening goes in denial and killing mode.

Ends charming you on his own way.

If you resist him then he gets you kindapped. No one is allowed to talk to you and you cant talk since he cut off your tongue and ate it.

Gets angry when he sees you playing with Niffty and starts to feel soft things for you. Like wanting to cuddle you, dance with you.

If you are more open to his advances he is a protective Yandere and manipulative one. But its so subtle no one will notice.

His shadows likes to play with you a lot.

☆ Lucifer

Goes ??? When he starts to fall for you. Tries to ignore it till he sees you with other demons or sinners then he loses it.

Not in front of you. He wants you to keep a very gentlemen image of him in your head.

Will kill whoever wants to court you.

Gets you a work by his side so no one can reach you.

You want to leave? Jokes on you, this Man its going to gashlight you so much. The idea will leave your head in seconds.

Oh, and will make you like ducks.

☆ Valentino

Poor you.

Like for Real poor you.

You may end being his favorite dancer or he just saw you one time and decided to take you for his joy and personal use.

Starts as pure physical interest then it developes into obssesion. No one knows if he truly feels something for you, not even the other Vs.

He is mean and a dick. Expect lots of punishments when you dont behave like he wants you to.

☆ Vox

Different from Valentino, Vox its more calm...at least on the physical side.

He probably saw you with one of his cameras and started to watch your daily life like a show. He then imagined you were the main character and he was the love interest.

He got it badly.

Its worse when he happens to catch you being intimate with another sinner/demon.

It should be him.

That one ends dead and Vox decides to make his home yours too.

He kindapps you.

He is a delusional Yandere. Believes you two have been together for years now. If you try to correct him he goes into error mode.

Will not hit you but may electroshock you.

Will try to brainwash you into beliving you are married to him.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #vox x reader #husk x reader #Charlie x reader

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atozfic · 8 months

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splish splash.

pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun. warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !! word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. ) hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.

it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.

take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.

and then there is you.

you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.

the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.

if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.

“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”

“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”

it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.

“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”

truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.

this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.

“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.

“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”

are you and san close?

that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.

but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.

so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?

that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.

a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.

the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.

or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.

he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.

“i should-”

“i missed-”

you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.

sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.

“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”

“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”

it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.

“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”

“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance.

the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.

their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.

you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.

san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.

your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”

“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.

“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”

you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.

“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”

“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”

“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”

“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”

“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”

mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.

what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.

“c’mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”

forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.

each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.

a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.

“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”

it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.

but his eyes burn you more.

they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.

“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”

it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.

the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.

you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.

“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”

you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.

the silence pleases him.

“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”

“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”

if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.

“then let me show you what i want.”

his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.

it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.

yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.

the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.

like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.

his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.

“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.

something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.

“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”

you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.

you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.

you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.

you want-

“you.” is all you manage to breath out.

it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.

lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.

one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.

there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?

you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.

choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.

his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall.

with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.

one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.

the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.

his giggle.

“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.

“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”

“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”

“again, no.”

“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”

this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.

“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”

“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”

“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.

reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.

your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.

in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.

“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”

“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”

“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”

you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.

“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.

“god, you’re so desperate!”

“for you? always.”

the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.

he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.

“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”

“as i’ll ever be.”

“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”

neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.

him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.

you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.

“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”

the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.

you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.

the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.

“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”

your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.

your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.

san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.

“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”

“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”

his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.

“would you stop?”

“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.

his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.

in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.

“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”

and, who are you to deny the man?

you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.

it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it.

move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.

the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.

hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.

the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.

“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”

san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.

he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.

when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.

he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.

“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.

needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.

well, at least not from you.

at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.

“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”

never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.

the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.

there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.

one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.

he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.

“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.

“not at all.”

san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.

“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.

a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.

“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”

out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.

the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.

“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”

“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”

“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.

you give no answer.

“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”

if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.

you’d be found guilty.

“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”

the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.

“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”

at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.

he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.

san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it.

with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.

the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.

only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.

“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”

“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.

you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.

and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.

“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”

words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.

you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.

he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.

“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.

“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”

“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.

jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.

“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”

there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.

the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.

“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”

“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”

“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.

instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.

fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.

never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.

officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.

instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.

the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit.

“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”

“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”

the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..

“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”

“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”

“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”

“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”

“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”

“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”

you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.

the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.

not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.

doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.

all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.

he’s a sight worth paying for.

“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.

“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”

“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.

“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”

wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.

“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”

control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.

satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.

“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”

under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.

so, you do.

“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”

“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”

“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”

the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.

“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”

the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.

you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.

“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”

the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.

“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.

a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.

like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.

the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.

“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.

he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.

“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.

none of it works.

“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”

the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.

then, your knees meet the floor.

park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.

what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?

“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.

there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.

when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.

maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.

maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.

whatever it is, it’s turning you on.

your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.

everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.

unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.

he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.

“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.

you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.

there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.

“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.

you nod your head.

his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.

“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”

the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs.

you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.

but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.

his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.

you need no verbal instructions this time around.

a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.

the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.

with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.

“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”

doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”

heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.

the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.

“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.

“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”

silence.

it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.

why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.

almost, but not quite.

“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”

“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”

“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.

how had you gotten here?

you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.

strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”

there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.

the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.

happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.

instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.

a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.

tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest.

another deep breath, another inch.

for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.

all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.

hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.

he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.

he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”

“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.

“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”

if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.

you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.

but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.

“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”

good’s not good enough.

you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.

so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.

eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.

your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.

“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”

“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.

only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear.

only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.

the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.

lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.

the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.

“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”

he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.

yunho grants you no such pleasure.

instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.

“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.

“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”

you think you nod.

it’s hard to tell.

sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.

his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.

“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”

god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.

swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.

by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.

“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”

“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”

“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”

give you it, he does.

three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.

the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.

a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.

“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”

with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.

then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.

with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”

“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.

park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.

that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.

his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.

his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.

you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.

but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.

the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.

the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.

“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”

a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.

he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.

“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”

for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.

they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.

and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-

it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.

what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?

hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?

a hand touches your cheek.

soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.

“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.

“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.

san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.

you.

“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.

his giggle echoes.

“no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”

within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.

no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.

control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.

it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.

“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”

the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.

wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.

san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”

you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”

maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.

“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!

the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.

it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.

“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”

a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.

“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”

through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.

a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.

your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.

“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.

the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.

the unbuckling of a belt.

an unzipping of trousers.

trousers bunched down muscled thighs.

the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.

but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear?

this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?

and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?

taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?

the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.

it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.

“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”

it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”

like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.

fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.

“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.

a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you.

“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”

you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.

barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.

there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.

one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.

you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.

for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.

there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.

instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there.

nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.

four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.

your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.

the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.

“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.

“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.

he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze.

he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.

and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.

one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.

you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.

“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.

neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.

when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.

“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”

too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.

“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.

“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”

it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.

“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”

the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.

you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.

“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.

“really?”

“really.”

“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”

a slap echoes in the showers.

“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”

#ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #choi san smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez oneshot

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