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omgeto · 7 months

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☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER

summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)

cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI

an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.

KINKTOBER M.LIST.

your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.

to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.

"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."

"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?"

“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”

gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.

geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.

you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.

geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.

as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.

“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”

“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.

“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”

“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”

you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.

gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.

“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants.

“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.

“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.

“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.

“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”

gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.

“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.

“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him.

“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”

gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”

you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.

“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?”

“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”

“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.

“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.

“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”

“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.

“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”

“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”

“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time.

“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.

geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.

gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.

“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”

“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”

“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy.

“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move.

geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.

“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible.

“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”

“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”

you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans.

both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.

“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.

“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.

“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you.

geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”

“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.

“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.

“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”

AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo and geto #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru smut

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astraystayyh · 2 months

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pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

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lxkeee · 2 months

Text

HEAVEN AND BACK!

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance, love at first sight.

Warnings: none.

Notes: this one is comparably shorter than chapter one.

PART ONE | PART THREE

Lucifer was absolutely baffled, so many things happened in one day. First, a very gorgeous and tall seraphim angel decided to come and stay at the hotel to oversee its progress and on top of all that, the said angel is that damn radio demon's mother.

Lucifer watches as the angel, who he learned that goes by the name [y/n] is still currently scolding her son. Him, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Husk are at the bar area just watching it unfold.

Alastor sitting on the couch, head hung low in shame but there's still a smile on his face.

“So... You killed your father and many more? And also ate them....?” [y/n] asked, disappointed in her voice. Alastor's deer ears lay flat as he remained seated as he listened to his mother.

“Oh god, my son is a cannibal!” [y/n] cries, Niffty wiping away her tears as [y/n] carried the smaller girl in her arms—how did it happen? She just somehow was raising her arms for uppies while the taller woman was scolding her boss and the older woman just did so without thinking and carried her and then resumed to scolding Alastor.

“But they deserved it, mother! He deserved it for—” Alastor tried to defend himself, his smile strained.

[Y/n]'s own smile widened, eye twitching, “Who said you could speak? My own son is talking back to me!” she cries, smiling through the tears, her wings puffed up in anger and Alastor shuts up his mouth immediately.

“Where did I go wrong in raising you? I didn't raise you like this.” [y/n] sobs, Niffty handing her a handkerchief where the taller woman accepted and used it to blow her nose.

“Yikes.” Lucifer muttered in amusement as he sipped his dry martini while watching the angelic woman continuing to scold Alastor. Now that's my kind of woman. He thought before almost choking his drink. Hold up. What is wrong with him today? He barely knew the woman and he is already thinking like this.

“You okay there pal? I'm pretty sure you almost choked on your drink.” Angel Dust laughs and Lucifer just glares at him.

Charlie giggles beside him excitedly, “Isn't it amazing? Alastor reunited with his mom! And heaven finally decided to help us!” Charlie squeals and Vaggie hums in agreement.

“Well... It surely isn't a happy one as smile's is getting scolded even more.” Angel Dusts laughs and Husk chuckles behind the counter.

Back to the mother and son, Alastor is finally done with seeing his mother cry. He hugged her in which the older woman was weakly hitting his chest while she sniffled. Niffty being pressed in-between the two. She's just glad to be there.

“I am sorry, mother. I'm still your son.“ Alastor says softly and [y/n] sniffled against her son's embrace.

“I'm still mad at you.” she says, and Alastor's smile widens every slightly, “I know.” he says with a grin before getting his forehead flicked once more by his mother, making him winced in pain. [Y/n] gently lowering Niffty down to the floor. Lucifer and Husk snickering at the bar area.

[Y/n] pouted as she finally left her son's embrace, “And here I was waiting in heaven for so long wondering what's taking you so long and only for you to be here in hell? My goodness...” [y/n] sighs, pinching her own nose, her other hand on her hip.

“My bad.” Alastor says with a grin and [y/n] sighs, wiping the tears away from her eyes then clapping her hands together and a smile is back on her face as she turns around to look at the other hotel crew.

“Well, I suppose that is over. I am sorry for the scene I've caused, this young man right here is to blame.” [y/n] deadpans, pointing her arms towards Alastor who was lounging on the couch, he just gave a thumbs up.

[Y/n] sighs, shaking her head. “Back to business, I myself am not really sure why Sera decided to change her mind but she's my boss so... I don't really have a choice.” [y/n] says with a shrug, smoothly lying to them and the others just look at her with a slight deadpanned expression.

“I will be staying here for the time being, Sera didn't exactly say for how long...” She says before her eyes widened, Sera really didn't tell her how long she'll be here.

“I am starting to wonder if I accidentally got myself kicked out of heaven.” She muttered and Lucifer snickered slightly, looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

“Well if that's the case, there's a space made just for you in hell.” Lucifer says smoothly and [y/n] smirked, “My... Special treatment for lil' ol' me by the king of hell himself? It would be an honor.” she says with a small smirk, approaching the bar area and standing in front of the sitting man, looking down on him.

“I feel like they're each other's types.” Angel Dust whispers to Vaggie in which he gets elbowed to the side by the fallen exorcist.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance as he watched the scene unfold, not my mother. Speed walking to the two, Alastor held his mother's shoulders protectively and slid her away from the king of hell.

“Alastor, dear... I can handle myself.” [y/n] chuckles and Alastor just smiled, though his smile strained a little bit. Clearly annoyed how the king of hell is getting smooth with his mother.

“I'll be showing my mother around and show her to her room. Please excuse us.” Alastor says as he gently drags [y/n] with him upstairs with Niffty following the two.

The others just watched in amusement, still hearing the two's slowly muffling voices as they left the room.

“Mama please, he's the king of hell. Why are you already getting so chummy with him?” Alastor's muffled voice can be heard as they walk away.

“Have you seen him, Alastor? Heaven's scrolls didn't do him any justice, he's gorgeous!” [y/n] says with a laugh and a followed groan from Alastor. Their voices can no longer be heard as they were getting farther and farther away.

Angel Dust nudges Lucifer and wiggles his eyebrows at the short king, the arachnid teasing the man as he can really see Lucifer's flustered cheeks.

“You two looked nice together, you better shoot your shot.” Angel Dust says with a smirk which prompted Lucifer to stammer.

“Huh? What? I just met her for God's sake!” Lucifer says, pulling his collar away from his throat as he awkwardly chuckles.

“Please... Everyone can see you were eyeing her like a piece of candy.” Husk says gruffly behind the counter, scoffing.

Lucifer blushed, nervous that he wasn't slicked at all.

“Can't blame him to be honest.” Charlie says with a chuckle as she sipped her wine. Vaggie just rolls her eyes playfully, “Still, she's suspicious.” she says and Angel Dust scoffs, “Please, when are you not? Besides, if you ever end up right, I'm sure short king over here can handle her.” He says with a shrug before smirking at Lucifer, “Just admit you were admiring the sexy angel lady, couldn't blame ya toots!” he giggles.

“I wasn't... You guys are just seeing things.” he deadpans, his ears tinted pink. His daughter, Maggie, Angel Dust, and Husk just gave him a raised eyebrow. Clearly not believing him in the slightest.

“Whatever you say, short king.” Angel Dust says in amusement.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @h3110kitty0 @bethleeham @hcneyiced @ashleygryffindor @ghostdoodlen @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @cupidsgift @shilladodo

#lxkeee answers #lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader

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cursed-coat-of-homosexuality · 8 months

Text

Okay so uhhh... visions came upon me and this was the result lol

Based on this absolute atrocity (affectionate... kind of)

[ID: A fourteen panel comic done in grayscale based on a Twitter thread from David Jenkins.

First panel: Neil Gaiman is surrounded by a crowd of fans, a bright spotlight is shining on top of him. One of the fans points a microphone in his direction and says "Mr. Gaiman! How would describe season two using only three words?"

Second panel: A close up shot of Neil, he smiles and says "Uhh... I'd say it's quiet, gentle, and romantic". "Romantic" is written in a flourished cursive font. There are little floating red hearts surrounding him.

Third panel: A shot of the crowd of fans saying "Awww" in unison, there are little hearts floating around. They find it adorable.

Fourth panel: A black screen titled "At David Jenkins' Twitter"

Fith panel: David Jenkins is sitting in table far away from the point of view, at the center of the image, a spotlight is shining on top of him. There is a crowd of fans forming a semi-circle around him, they are squished against one another, stoping at the little fence that is surrounding the table . A fan standing near the front says " I LOVE U... three words to describe season 2?"

Sixth panel: A close up shot of David Jenkins, he is sitting with both elbows proped up on the table, supporting his head with his hands. The harsh light is shining in on him, he looks serious and solemn. His head is tilted down but his eyes are looking directly at the camera, the whites of his eyes make a stark contrast against his shadowed figure. He says " Fucking sweet...".

Seventh panel: The shot is arranged in the same way as in fifth panel. David Jenkins is far away, sitting at his table , the fans are surrouding him in a semi-circle. The fan near the front replies "Give us one more word David"

Eight panel: A huge shock wave tilts the crowd back. All lights are out, except for the spotlight shining in on David Jenkins. David's arms are unnaturally elongated in a spider-like way, fiercely gripping the table with both hands.

Ninth panel: David lauches into the crowd. The point of view remains the same, but now his head is extremely close up the camera. He emphatically says "FUCKING"

Tenth panel: The scene is seen from the side, now we can see that David still remains sitting at his table, but his neck is extended in a long unnatural arch. He is directly looking at the fan from before, his head on top of them. The fan still has the microphone poiting in David's direction. A new spotlight is shining in on both of them. David says, "SWEET"

Eleventh panel: A close up shot of the crowd. The camera lies a little ways below David's head, only the bottom of it is visible. We see that the fan with the microphone is crouched and almost completely tilted back. The fan is looking directly at Jenkins. The crowd continues squished together, watching intently with shocked faces. David continues, saying "YOU"

Thirteenth panel: The shot is arranged in the same way as in the previous panel. David continues, saying "SLUTS". The letters are written in an emboldened font. The crowd is completely shocked, but also weirdly flattered, all of them are blushing.

Fourteenth panel: David Jenkins goes back to sitting at his table, in a movement similar to a metal spring coiling up again after being streched out. He is sitting far away from the camera, at the center of the image. The fans forming a semi-circle around him. They continue blushing, with some assorted murmurs of bafflement as in "oh my god", "dude what" and "why". /END ID]

#long neck david shall haunt me for eternity now #I don't regret creating him though #but he will also definetely appear in my nightmares #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #our flag mean death s2 #david jenkins #ofmd meme #neil gaiman #good omens 2

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screampied · 10 days

Note

yuki and reader scissoring while choso begs to be in the middle ,,, vegas do you see the vision 🗣️🗣️🗣️

❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso being the third wheel between you & yuki

warnings. fem! reader, cucking, scissoring, praise, dirty talk, needy choso, mdni.

“such a pretty girl,” she’d purr in a soft voice—her hand gripping against your heel as she’s gradually rocking herself against you. you couldn’t suppress the sweet mewls and moans from your glossy lips even if you tried. your legs were all sprawled out and yuki’s on top of you—rubbing her clit against yours and it feels simply euphoric. “heh, gotta keep up with me angel,” she creates kiss trails near your heel. her pace had so much rhythm, you’re just slumped back against the bed with your mouth slightly dangling open. “mhm. fuck me back jus’ like that, thereeee we go.”

it was so much mobility of her hips, you bit your lip as your eyes roam all over her body—she’s grinding against you continuously and you let off a moan once her legs interlace with you further. her pussy jerks against yours and you whimper out a sweet, “y—yuki, f-fuckkk.”

choso gulps, watching his two lovers bump clits in such a sensual way—his pout displays against his lips before he speaks in a needy tone, lowering his head towards the blond. “yuki, i want a turn too. you’re being s-stingy with her.”

“i told you to be a good boy ‘n wait, choso,” she murmurs, averting her eyes back towards you before silencing your syrupy sweet moans with a kiss. you’re out of breath, practically dragging your hands up her spine before pulling her closer towards the warmth of your body. you taste the remains of her favored lipgloss on your tongue before she departs, watching choso frown. “aw. just a few more minutes then you’ll get a turn, baby.”

“s—stop calling me that, yuki.” he mumbles, glancing down at you before softly strumming a thumb against your tummy.

“make me, pretty boy.” she jibes, giving him a quick wink before going back to kissing you.

“you’re . . you’re being a brat, yuki,” choso huffs out a cute irritated sigh. he leans close to give you a kiss. they’re both competing with you, solely on who can coat you with more kisses.

choso softly strums a thumb near the edge of your chin, pulling you closer into a deep kiss.

he tastes sweet . . sweeter than he’s ever been.

even though, yuki’s continuing to vigorously sway her hips against yours—your right arm hooks around her waist as she’s rutting back and forth, about to fall into a blissful spasm.

“i— i want you,” choso speaks between soft breaths, foreheads meeting against each other. the way he was trying to get between you both was so cute.

one kiss turns into two, then three, then four . .

a plethora of adoring pecks near your lips. when choso’s horny and needy, it’s adorable.

he literally can’t keep his hands to himself.

he allows his hands roam all over your body as yuki’s slowly lifts up your leg a tad bit higher.

with the angle she has, her sopping cunt resumes to clash against yours. the moist wet plops of squelches that escaped from the both of you were so lewd.

the entirety of the provocative scene taking place was simply downright dirty. the blonde woman starts to moan herself the second she feels a sudden rapture pool up inside her clenched abdomen.

“my . . my,” she squeaks, a sheepish smile going against her lips before she picks up her pace a bit more. her voice was teasing, a mere harmony to listen to.

she feels the slight twinge that lasts for only a second, it shifts into pleasure and you’re surely about to lose it. yuki pulls choso away from you before kissing you again for probably the umpteenth time. with a pout, he watches before not expecting yuki to bring him into a kiss also.

“oh you big baby,” she hums playfully, still grinding against you—with the obscene view, your eyes linger towards her chiseled abs that flex and tense with each jerk she creates forward. she’s unintentionally sexy, with a brief moment of her hips—you gaze as a few beads of sweat race down her stomach and she shoots you a sly grin. “if you wanted a kiss, choso all you had to do was ask.”

“y—yuki..” choso moans, melting into butter just from her coquettish actions.

her plump lips were so soft as they went against his, you felt your cunt twitch at watching them make out. choso doesn’t know what to do with his hands and she titters, grabbing his hands to place on her waist. still multitasking, she’s keeping up her rhythm at pulverizing her hips steady against you. so wet, the noises that squealed from your pussy rings throughout your ears and even reverbs across the entire room.

the both of you were close—substantially approaching that familiar unavoidable release. tips of your ears grew out to be so hot, your hand drags towards her ass to squeeze it and she giggles.

“aw,” she teases, pulling away from choso for a breath of fresh air. he’s so embarrassed—but he didn’t exactly want her to pull away. choso subtly licks his lips before averting his eyes back down toward you. the stimulation, you find your back starting to arch before feeling your climax arise at such a rapid speed. it was sporadic the way everything was happening at once. “kiss our girl while she cums, choso.”

“f— fine,” he stammers, and he’s trying to keep up his jealous grumbly facade but he’s clearly failing. he didn’t know who he wanted more—you or yuki. alas, it was choso, so more than likely he wanted you both. and he did, he leaned up close before lowering his head toward you. you heave, breaths becoming more and more heavy before he softly laps his tongue against the inner part of your neck. you moan from his sweet touch, feeling choso then start to coat the entire frame of your collarbone with nothing but kisses.

“s—so sweet,” he croons, starting to gingerly nibble against your skin. “let yuki make you cum, c’mon princess,” and he leans in to kiss near your lips, “mwah,” he coos, skimming a thumb against the crevices of your mouth before staring at you. his naturally drowsy stare, it was so loving. he was still needy, yet seeing you so close to your orgasm was enough to make him wanna please you even more. after all, your pleasure was always their pleasure. “pretty girl.”

“yuki i’m gonna c—cummm,” you’d huff out in irregular pants, feeling the familiar coil within you be on the very edge of snapping. your hand squeezes yuki’s wrist and she’s just as vocal as you. sweet voice honeyed with such smoothness that you could listen to her all day.

she moves choso aside, hearing him grumble cutely before she kisses you again this time, every few seconds she breaks away before whispering, “give it to me baby,” and soft cacophonies along the sides of, “come on. make a mess all on my pussy.”

her words, it was filled with such dirtiness. she stares into your eyes, your hands merely dragging her hips back and forth before you end up cumming. yuki matches your peak, a gasp rippling from her lips before she slows her thrusts down.

“fuckkkk, sweetheart,” she moans, still grinding against you but she slows down—reaching a hand between your legs to spread your swollen lips open. she runs a thumb down your slit, watching you twitch and spasm before he exhales deeply. yuki giggles, feeling choso’s chin rests against her shoulder. he was done being patient, and he wanted attention too. “fine, fine. so impatient.”

she gets off of you and you’re catching your breath before choso sits you up. he peppers a few sweet kisses near your neck before whining.

“waited so long,” he shakily sighs. as you run a hand down his chiseled chest, he gets up between you and your nude body. as he inches closer, that’s when you feel it. choso’s hardened boner that poked through his shorts, he was embarrassed—but he wanted you so bad. mwah, another kiss presses against your forehead before he spreads your legs, softly rubbing against your sensitive entrance. “now it’s m-my turn, princess. just lie back ‘n let me do everything o—okay?”

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alithographica · 11 months

Text

As promised, welcome to

Fun biology in TOTK’s designs

I'll keep this post updated as I go through the game. I'm going to skip the more general identifiable things like apples (they're based on apples!) because there are tons of more unusual species to talk about.

Overall, the really interesting thing I've noticed is that many of the more unique Earth-based lifeforms in TOTK are super ancient, like predating dinosaurs ancient, which is a really cool tie-in to the overall time-hopping plotline of TOTK. Specifically, they're found in the new areas (caves, depths) while the surface remains a bit more normal.

(There will be no plot spoilers in this post, and also I've barely gotten into the plot because I'm spending all my time wandering, so shhh no spoilers in the tags for like a month please.)

Most recent additions: More lilies, irises, wild ginger, spiny bones, pigeon extravaganza, plus added some more real photo comparisons to old stuff.

PLANTS

Bryophytes my beloved. Bryophytes are among the earliest land plants, waaaay predating flowers and even seeds. In our world, they’re small by necessity—they lack vascular systems to help move water around like other plants, so they have to stay small and moist (hence their frequency in caves in TOTK—though they do need some light in real life.)

In TOTK they’re quite large and I think that’s very sexy and art directors should give us big bryophytes more often

Anyway, there are three types of bryophytes: mosses, liverworts, and hornworts. First image pair is a moss, second is a liverwort. Those red-brown and palm-tree-like structures, respectively, are their reproductive structures.

Real liverwort photo © Graham Calow, NatureSpotUK

Not yet spotted: Hornworts! Did they forget the third bryophyte sister :(

I think these next guys are probably lycopods (specifically club moss, which is not a true bryophyte moss, thanks science.) Very old, but vascular, so they're a bit more evolutionarily recent than bryophytes.

Real photo © Gloria Hanley Schoenholtz, virginiawildflowers

All the enormous curly-topped trees in the depths: Ferns! They curl like that until they unfurl. Another very old plant, though younger than bryophytes and lycopods.

Real photo via The Cosmonaut, Wikipedia

Brightblooms and some of the other giant plants in the depths: Possibly based on a cycad? Again, a very ancient plant lineage. At this point, evolutionarily, they've developed seeds—that giant cone in the center is called a strobilus, and that's the seed structure.

These next few plants are angiosperms, meaning they produce flowers. Angiosperms are a more recent evolutionary lineage—still many millions of years old, but it took a while to develop flowers as a reproductive tactic.

Sundelions (left) are a fun recolor of a lily. There are also some scenery lilies (right) in various places—there are yellow ones that spring up when you turn on a lightroot (which gives them literal and thematic connection to the surface) and several other varieties, including tiger lilies, throughout Hyrule. Fun note, the sundelions appear to only have 5 stamen, while other lilies in the game (correctly) have 6. Seems to be an intentional decision to make it a more distinct fantasy species.

These next ones are Peruvian lilies/Alstroemeria, just used as a scenery plant but a very fun inclusion. Fun fact, not true lilies, so they're not deadly to cats like true lilies are.

Real photo © Dick Culbert, Wikipedia

Plum trees: These are also called out as plum trees in game! There's a journal in Kakariko that refers to the plum orchards.

Okay I'm a little proud of figuring this one out. Bomb flowers blend a few botanical references. Superficially, the fruit resembles a type of seed pod called a capsule—specifically it's very similar to a poppy capsule. The little red thing in the center is a nice addition to resemble both a flower stigma (reproductive part that leads to the ovary) and a bomb fuse. Now, poppy capsules disperse their seeds via wind, but there are other plants who do explode their seeds outwards as a dispersal tactic! This is called explosive dehiscence.

There is one tree in particular called the sandbox tree, AKA monkey-no-climb or dynamite tree (yes, really.) Their capsules look more like little pumpkins, but are known for violently exploding when ripe—they can launch seeds at 150 miles per hour (250 km/h) and spread them roughly 200 feet (60 m) away. The photo comparison is a poppy capsule but you should def go look up dynamite tree videos.

Real photo © PommeGrenade, pixabay

Fire fruits (and the other elemental fruits) grow on the same generic plant that looks kind of like it has grape leaves. Fire fruits resemble a specific botanical thing too though—the black netting is a papery calyx (part of the flower) seen in a nightshade genus, Physalis (golden berries, tomatillos, etc.)

Real photo © Helene Rogers, Alamy

I think this stuff is an Asarum, AKA wild ginger. I was actually puzzling over it until I walked past some today and went HEY

Not sure of the exact species but they're very green and heart-shaped and love being dense and low to the ground.

Real photo via David Stang, Wikipedia

Irises: Love irises, one of my favorite flowers and words, very happy to see them in game.

MISCELLANEA

Cup lichen! Lichen is not a plant, but a symbiotic structure of an algae + a fungi. Cup lichen is just a type of lichen formation that has a kind of vertical cup-like structure.

Real photo via Bernard Spragg

Geology crossover! Go look carefully at some of the whiter walls in the depths—they look like they have fossils of coral and other undersea hard-structured animals in them.

ANIMALS

Sticky lizards: Based on Diplocaulus, a very early (now extinct) amphibian! Their skulls are wacky. We're not sure whether the long sides stood out separately or were smoothly connected to the body by skin flaps, but the separate arrow-like shape is the most popular rendition.

Deep firefly: Might be a stretch because it could just be a multi-winged fantasy critter, but I think the "wings" and antennae are very reminiscent of Anomalocaris, an ancient aquatic arthropod.

Update: Other folks in the notes/tags have pointed out that they're probably based on a cryptid that's especially popular in Japan: skyfish AKA rods! They show up in photos and people think they're an alien lifeform. In reality, they're an optical blur created when a lower quality video captures intermittent flaps of an insect's wings, leaving sort of a many-winged smear in the photo. Thanks to all who left info!

Little frox: Another stretch because it totally could just be a Hinox-like frog, but every time I see the little ones I can't help but think of like...Ichthyostega, Mastodonsaurus, Eryops, and other early amphibians. They were pretty hefty—little frox size or bigger—and had with little waddling legs. This is less "I think it's definitely this" and more "it makes me happy when I picture frox as primitive amphibians."

I haven't detailed many of the scenery animals around Hyrule because most are identifiable with the camera function—it'll tell you that a certain animal is a heron or porgy, for example, and those groups are real, even though the exact species is made up. But I think the pigeons are fun because they're all crested pigeons. Pink-necked green pigeons may have also been the inspiration for the color palettes on the wood and rainbow pigeons.

Both pigeon photos via JJ Harrison, Wikipedia

Spiny bones: Not a specific critter, but those spiny bones that you can find lying around Eldin Canyon are vertebrae—possibly from the same thing that left those big rib cages around? The top spike is the spinous process where muscles attach, the littler spikes on the side are the transverse and articular processes. The dark O in the center is the spinal cord.

Also I made a friend who finally recognizes my purpose in Hyrule.

That's all I've got for now! Will add more as I keep playing.

#tears of the kingdom #totk #legend of zelda #loz #science fun #biology #lizard #plant #botany #image heavy #long post

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 5 months

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Eyes, Hands & Lips - LN

I counted up how many Lando one shots i’ve done and this is going to be the 54th. Actually had no idea i’d written that many, that’s mad. But just want to say thank you to everyone who has followed and reads my posts. It means a lot, and especially thank you if you’ve read and enjoyed my writing for other drivers.

Summary: Lando knows y/n's three weaknesses that he uses at every opportunity, in private and public.

Themes: soft-dom!Lando(?) deffo control-freak!Lando, smut, Filth? Idk you decide and let me know

It's a well known but not shared secret among the drivers and teams in the paddock that Lando and y/n have a very much....sexually led relationship. None of them have directly witnessed anything but the atmosphere between them, it's as if they're always about to have sex or have just finished.

Though Lando has his sweet moments and is clearly obsessed with his girlfriend in every way you might expect.

But hearing her whimper, seeing her fight off her own pleasure in fear of someone around her noticing, feeling her tremble under his touch. That's where his obsession with his girlfriend really is.

They've not had a formal conversation of the fact that Lando seems to be so completely dominant with her. But it's certainly apparent and she's not mad about it.

"L-Lando." Y/n whimpers trying to close her eyes, feeling his fingers thrust in and out of her as he strokes his thumb on her pulse point while his gently hand remains around her neck.

"No. Look at me."

Eye contact. Her weakness.

She actually hates eye contact, something about it makes her so flustered she forgets to fight off the orgasm that's quickly approaching. It completely surrenders her control to him.

"Lando! I won't tell you again, we need you out here!" The media manager exclaims in frustration. This being the third time she's came to retrieve the young man who has assured her he'll not be long each time she's called for him.

Y/n clenches up around his fingers but she's fighting with every fibre of her being and Lando is ruthless brushing that g-spot with a pressure that has tears in her eyes as she shakes her head.

"I'm not leaving till you step out this room." That makes Lando lean into y/n's ear, unrelenting with his fingers while she tries to let out a controlled and quiet shake breath feeling his lips brush the shell of her ear.

"You better cum baby. She's not going anywhere and I'm not leaving till there's a puddle on this floor." Lando states though y/n is almost certainly she's dripping on the floor already, her wetness has definitely coated her thighs and his hand entirely.

"But she'll hear me." Y/n whispers although there's no response, Lando's thumb finally presses further on her clit like button that leaves her doing exactly as he wants. Her hands fist the papaya polo shirt that's adorning his body. She wants to hide her face and press into his neck or his shoulder but the hand at her throat keeps her from doing so, and he likes to see her face when she falls apart.

He definitely gets what he wants, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of her as she grits her teeth to stop the moan that is pushing it's way up, though his hand slightly tighter around her voice box prevents the sound as her jaw does drop slightly and she watches her vision sparkle with white dots.

"Lando!"

The world is echoed and her brain fog is heavy as Lando finally releases her, catching her as she drops forward against him which if she wasn't in such a haze she'd groan knowing his soaked hand is now dirtying her outfit.

He shouts something back through the door but she's still too out of it to make sense of his words. Instead just accepting him sitting her down and moving to grab a cloth to clean her up quickly, along with himself. He grabs a hoodie, carefully pulling off her top that has her cum in the form of his handprint on it as he tosses it on the floor and pushes the hoodie over her.

Thankfully her skirt avoided any damage. So while it's not the outfit she arrived in, it'll have to do for now and he can say she just got cold.

"Alright, baby. You with me?" Lando asks clearly amused by the effect he had on her.

"I'm good." She breathes softly nodding as Lando offers his cleaned hands to help her up. But once she's up supporting herself on her own legs. "Christ."

"Yeah, sorry. Might've gotten a bit carried away." Lando chuckles while running a finger down her neck feeling her throat bob as she swallows under his touch. "Come on, before the team have an actual fit over how late we are."

They're not late, since they always come to get Lando early knowing he loves to leave his girlfriend in ruins for his own entertainment before a race. They don't need to see it or hear more than they have to know what he's doing in there even if they don't know the extent of it.

"I'm sore." Y/n pouts making him reflect her expression with a pout of his own then quickly pecking her lips in a kiss.

"Sorry...just wait till after the race." Lando smirks making her feel a shiver of anticipation ripple down her spine despite her body telling her that there has to be some sort of limit. But she knows she loves it and Lando knows when she doesn't want it, she trusts him enough to tell him and they won't have sex. It's that simple.

Lando opens the door to reveal a woman who's face is more suited to Ferrari's red with how angry she is. Y/n would happily let the ground swallow her whole if it got her out of the daggers being shot in her direction.

"Come on baby." Lando smiles placing his large hand on the small of her back through the hoodie as he walks out his driver's room while she tries to not stumble on her still weak legs.

Y/n sits on the bathroom counter in nothing but her towel, fresh from a shower that was very much orgasm filled thanks to Lando joining her.

But right now she's watching him pull out a toy that is not the first time he's used it but under these conditions, it could definitely be maybe a bit of a risk.

"You can say no." Lando states while moving in-between her legs as his free hand move to tip her chin up so she's looking in his eyes. "You can."

"I don't want to say no." Y/n murmurs watching him smirk and nod before he catches her in a long, deep kiss as his hand creeps between her legs pushing the love egg into her pussy till he feels it's in the right position.

"That feel ok?" Lando asks softly while helping her down.

"Yeah...don't know how snowboarding is going to go with you in control of it. But it feels ok." She nods while he smirks and sighs pressing her up against himself. "Don't embarrass me."

Lando knows for certain he introduced y/n to a sex life that isn't quite so vanilla but he also knows that sometimes she'll agree to stuff even when she's not so confident about it. She trusts him so if he assures her that she can tap out and that's how it is.

"Alright, time to layer up." Lando smiles while she looks at him with a small nod.

To y/n's surprise Lando doesn't turn anything on or make any attempt of surprising her for most of the day. They get through the first few slopes with her being aware of the vibrator but slowing easing as it continues to go unused.

Perhaps she should've suspected he might strike when least expected. She heads down first just slightly ahead of himself and Max.

However, he apparently chooses now to strike and she skids to a stop sitting on the snow and biting her lip.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" P asks with a small frown, stopping further down as the boys appear, stopping.

"Ah, uh...yeah, just felt like my boot was loose." Y/n lies while the three exchange a look. Lando should get an award for his acting skills especially as he somehow knocks it up a level.

"You guys go ahead, we'll catch up." Lando sighs moving to y/n while Max and P sigh.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Y/n nods making the two exchange another look before they leave y/n with Lando who waits until they're far enough away to speak.

"You gotta get up baby." He sighs while she swallows thickly as he knocks up the level making her thighs press together. "Come on, you can't sit here. We're in the way of other people."

"But what if I..."

"If you do then I got what I wanted." Lando smirks as she takes his hands and though he's wearing gloves her thoughts even thinking about all the unholy those hands have done to her is enough for her to feel heavier. Not to mention standing up alters the position of the vibrator making her wobble immediately but his hands catch her waist.

Lando keeps hold of her as they slide down the slope though about two thirds of the way down, she crumples shaking her head as she knocks Lando back too.

"I can't-I can't. It's too much and not enough. Baby, please. Stop it. I can't." Y/n whines shaking her head before feeling him shift till it stops and her body nearly melts from how tense it had been. "Thank you."

"That's ok. We'll just sit here for a bit." Lando chuckles making her sigh and look out at the view. Y/n ends up pulling off his glove to look at his hand. "If you're going to turn yourself on doing that, I can't be blamed this time."

"I'm not." She murmurs though that's only partially true. "We should go, P and Max will be waiting."

Lando hums knowing that when they reach the bottom he has no intention to spend much time with any of his friends but only his girlfriend.

Y/n looks at Lando on the private jet, frowning and tilting her head a little as she watches him sleep. It's not as if she's never initiated sex, but waking him up while the rest of the people on the flight are asleep is another game.

She triple checked that and they've all got noise-cancelling headphones or earplugs in. Thank god.

It was Lando's fault that she was even turned on. She'd fallen asleep before him and woken up finding his hand somehow up gently holding her neck, whether he fell asleep like that or moved to it in his sleep, she doesn't know. But waking up to it certainly has her fidgeting and unable to sit still.

"Lando..." Y/n murmurs moving his headphones making him frown as he stirs a little. "Lando, I need you."

"What?" Lando frowns still too much in the depth of his own sleep as he blinks a few times those lazy green eyes locking onto her in the dimly lit cabin, even in the bad lighting that heavy gaze on her is adding to her discomfort. "You need me for what?"

Now usually Lando isn't so slow to connect the dots, but he gets there eventually and laughs quietly.

"We're not having sex. I'm too tired, but would you settle for something else that's sort of half way?" Lando offers in a yawn clearly wanting to return to the realm of sleep.

She knows exactly what that means and when he shifts letting her climb on him, her hands dipping into his joggers since he’s travelling dressed for comfort. He's semi-hard under her touch and that's enough for her swallow thickly going to look around again only for Lando's hand to come up forcing her to keep looking at him and disregard anyone else.

If he doesn't care why should she should?"

"If you're concerned about someone else then maybe you don't need me."

"No." Y/n whimpers as she slides down on his length feeling some satisfaction from the feeling of him inside her. The full feeling sending a shudder up her spine before she leans forward to lie on top of him, trying to steady her breathing as she actually feels this be enough to push her to the brink.

How pathetic. Her inner thoughts scold her for being so easily pleased in this moment. But it's the knowledge of everyone else not knowing what they're doing combine with the fact they could wake up and she'd probably have a heart attack if they caught onto what they're doing, plus Lando's eyes are still watching her lazily, she can feel his gaze burning through her.

"F-Fuck." Y/n murmurs making Lando chuckle lightly while she hits her face in his chest, rubbing into the soft material of his hoodie as he gently rubs her thighs.

"We've got a couple hours left of the flight baby. If you cum before we land, then I might have to just make it one of many that you have today."

Threat or promise, Lando will follow through either way and her body tenses a little at the thought of what's to come getting off this flight.

Overstimulation is his favourite way to give her the best type of torture. He loves seeing her completely fall apart again and again till she's torn between stopping and letting him continue.

Lando does end up falling asleep, presumably more than comfortable from his perspective of the position. Meanwhile, y/n can't stop looking at Lando feeling herself getting wetter and wetter while she just looks at him. Looking at his lips, thinking about how they feel when they touch her skin, thinking about how hot his mouth feels on her.

Clearly muscle memory serves too well sometimes because honestly y/n shoves her face into Lando chest, her body seizing at the overwhelming feeling of her orgasm, hands gripping at Lando as he comes back around at the feeling of her tight around him like a vice along with the feeling of her nails digging into his arms.

"Feel better?" He hums while she's still in her own buzz.

"Mmhmmm..." Y/n nods then swallowing thickly as he looks at her gently tucking some of her hair back behind her ear. "Even if I know you're going to make me regret it later."

"Regret it?" Lando smirks but the glint in his eye shows that's exactly his plans.

"Yes." Y/n yawns then nuzzling her face into his neck making it obvious she has no plans to move from this position quite yet. "It's ok. I can handle it."

Her cockiness won't do her favours later because her saying she can handle it means that she's just set Lando the challenge of making sure she's at a point that she can't handle it. But he'll build her up to it.

For now he'll let her keep his cock warm for the rest of the flight.

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byuntrash101 · 2 months

Text

big bad wolf

f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut

#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡

a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.

The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.

“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”

“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.

“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.”

It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.

“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”

Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears.

All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.

“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.

“Yeah I get it.”

Silence settled.

“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.

A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.

“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.

“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…

“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.

“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again.

***

Well maybe you couldn’t…

That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds.

“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.

He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.

The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.

“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Um, yeah a little bit I think”

Lie. Big fat lie.

Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.

“Perfect! Let’s get started then”

“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.

Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.

Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.

He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs.

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.

He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.

“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud.

“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”

Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.

He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.

“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”

You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face.

“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.

“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours.

He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily.

“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”

As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.

“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board.

“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.

He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.

“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.

Thanks to Chris’ prepping, the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho.

Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.

“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.

“Ok” you huffed quietly.

You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared.

“You… can move”

Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in.

“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.

He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines.

“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in.

“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”

“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”

“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.

“Fuck I won’t last long baby”

“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there”

Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg”

“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath.

You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you.

“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew.

“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.

“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it”

“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”

It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.

“Yeah we should”

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”

“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.

“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.

“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.

“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.

“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.

“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3

#bangchan smut #bangchan #christopher bang #skz smut #skz #stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours

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winged-self-indulgence · 5 months

Text

Why Do People Like Yanderes?

Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.

TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.

Introduction

If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).

It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.

Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?

Hybristophilia

‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):

“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”

In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.

However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:

Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them

If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.

Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.

(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)

After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”

But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.

Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.

The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.

The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.

Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?

The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)

It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.

PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.

But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.

In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.

Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?

I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?

No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.

This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.

So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.

When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.

While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.

Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.

Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)

Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.

In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?

If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”

Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.

Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.

Conclusion

In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.

Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below

REFERENCES

Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406

Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191

DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545

Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123

Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212

Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture

Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.

Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf

Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092

Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.

Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101

#reference list is completed!#yandere #sunny day jack #my dear hatchet man #mdhm #stnaf #ddlc #john doe #boyfriend to death #tpof #degrees of lewdity #your boyfriend #14dwy #br<3ken colors #camp willowpeak #br0ken colors #obey me #favour vn #binary star hero

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying.

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer.

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm.

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant.

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines.

John’s icon dims.

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to.

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you.

He tried to call as often as he could.

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down.

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic.

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.”

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening.

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind.

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?”

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work.

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth.

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together.

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad?

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears.

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.”

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted?

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him.

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind.

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with.

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present.

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…”

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear.

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?”

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring.

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts.

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor.

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs.

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.”

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin.

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing.

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?”

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation.

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.”

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords.

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else.

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences.

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips.

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends.

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute.

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later.

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?”

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?”

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name.

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed.

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click.

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms.

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat.

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening.

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh.

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.”

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod.

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.”

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.”

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight.

You steel yourself and raise the box.

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair.

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully.

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm.

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead.

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders.

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed.

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship.

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!”

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly.

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.”

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it.

Pregnant.

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly.

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts.

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss.

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold.

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again.

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.”

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.”

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.”

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.”

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.”

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child.

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.”

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.”

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave.

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

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cheollipop · 11 months

Text

one more rep

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x model fem!reader x choi san

w.c.: 6.9k

tags: smut, some fluff, friends to lovers, woosan are reader's personal trainers

san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up.

warnings: mean dom!wooyoung, soft dom!san, they're switches for each other though, wooyoung has a nipple piercing + a tramp stamp (hehe), san has finger tattoos, degradation (a little bit; reader gets called a slut/cockslut), praise (a lot), so much dirty talk, a hint of dacryphilia, nipple play (m & f), face sitting, oral sex (m & f receiving), face fucking, fingering (f), squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation, handjob, mxm, spit kink (so much spit...), snowballing, cum eating/swallowing, unprotected sex (👎), multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, some humping, aftercare, nicknames (youngie, good boy; sannie; baby, pretty girl, good girl, sweetheart, darling), they're all idiots in love <3

A/N: so this has been brewing in my little kettle for a while and bam! my longest fic yet, and probably the filthiest... I put my heart and soul into this one, so I really hope you enjoy! ^^ (pls ignore any inaccuracies in the exercises,, I start wheezing after one flight of stairs)

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

San’s knees dug into the yoga mat under him, his hands – decorated with the black ink of his tattoos – secured around your calves, holding them in place while you finished up your last set of sit-ups. He could feel your muscles contract every time you pushed yourself up, relaxing momentarily as you laid back down on the mat. He often found his eyes wandering over the purple material hugging your figure, the way your shorts rode up your thighs each time you pushed yourself off the mat. With every powerful sit-up, he held his breath at how close your face would get to his – enough for him to breathe in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed in with the tanginess of your sweat, your soft exhale blowing over his face.

It had been years since your agency reached out to San’s company, hiring him and Wooyoung as your personal trainers. The three of you had developed an easy friendship, your sessions now packed with inside jokes and banter. Recently, however, you often found yourself looking at them differently – your heart racing whenever San’s hands brushed over your skin, skipping a beat at Wooyoung’s never-ending praise. As a model, you were required to remain fit, and despite the torturous exercises the pair put you through, you were glad you were able to see them regularly.

A gentle squeeze to San’s nape caught his attention, Wooyoung hovering over him with a coy smile on his face. One look over his shoulder and he could see the weights for the next exercise set up neatly in the corner.

“What’s got you so distracted? Can’t you see she’s barely making it halfway up?” Wooyoung’s tone was playful, but both your face and San’s flushed at his comment – you, because he’d caught you slacking off, and San, because he’d called him out for not paying attention.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, your chest heaving as the past two hours of taxing exercises caught up with you, sweat trickling down your temples.

“Cut me some slack, Youngie, I’m tiiired!” You whined, letting your head fall back, eyes shut while you caught your breath.

Wooyoung kneeled beside you, running his hand over the top of your head gently. “Yeah, yeah, take five minutes to rest then we’ll move on.” He smirked when you began complaining, pinching your cheek and pulling at the skin teasingly.

Looking back at San, Wooyoung’s smirk widened, teeth peeking out from between his lips when he caught sight of the man’s demeanour – his eyes moving between the two of you, hands still holding your legs, albeit slightly tighter than he had been earlier, his veins popping out while he shifted uncomfortably on his knees. Wooyoung’s eyes trailed further down, noticing the forming tent in San’s dark sweatpants, a scoff escaping his lips.

“What’s got our Sannie so excited?”

San’s whole body jerked at Wooyoung’s mocking tone – and the innuendo behind it – instinctively pulling his hands closer to his body and dragging your legs with them. You sucked in a breath when San’s hips pressed against you before immediately drawing them back, abruptly standing up and turning away from the two of you. You could see the bright red creeping up the back of his neck, San’s shaky hands scratching nervously at the heated skin.

“I-I-” San stuttered, roughly clearing his throat while he took quick peeks over his shoulder to attempt eye contact. “I-I’m so sorry- I don’t know why-”

Wooyoung chuckled, standing up and wrapping an arm around San’s shoulders, his eyes flitting down to his concealed bulge before he looked back up to speak. “Don’t worry about it, dude. I’m sure our (Y/n) understands, right?” They both looked back at you expectantly, and you nodded your head quickly. “See? Just take a walk and calm down. I’ll continue the session with (Y/n).”

Wooyoung let go of the flustered man, giving him a playful pat on his ass before turning around to face you again. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of you, taking in the way your thighs rubbed against each other, your eyes glazed over and fixed on San’s back. Wooyoung cleared his throat, startling you back to reality, and you instinctively relaxed your legs, giving him a full view of the darkened material at your crotch.

A wave of heat rushed to your face upon noticing Wooyoung’s gaze slipping down to your core, squeezing your thighs together again and sitting up. His head tilted to the side amusingly, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He reached back to grab San’s arm before he had the chance to leave, twisting him around to face you.

“Or… Would our precious (Y/n) like to help Sannie out instead?”

You rolled your hips over Wooyoung’s face, gasping around San’s cock when the tip of his nose brushed against your clit. It took the man under you a few seconds to notice you grinding on his nose, soft whimpers vibrating over San’s cock as you took him in deeper, swallowing around his cockhead and revelling in the groans you drew out of him.

Wooyoung’s hands slipped under your ass, his biceps bulging as he adjusted your position until your clit was directly over his nose and his tongue at your entrance. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Wooyoung slipped his tongue inside you, curving it along your walls to press against the spongy spot that made your back arch. He could feel your thighs shaking around his face, moving it from side to side to nuzzle his nose against your clit, drinking up your arousal as it gushed into his open mouth.

He pulled away, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip before speaking. “I know you love my nose on your pussy, but don’t you dare cum before San does.”

You hummed around San, hearing him grunt above you as he slid his cock over your tongue, a shallow thrust to remind you of his presence, but you couldn’t process the action when Wooyoung’s tongue was back inside you, mercilessly pushing into your g-spot, your orgasm rapidly building up in your lower belly. So you just sat there, rutting over Wooyoung’s face with your mouth stretched open around San’s throbbing cock.

San’s hands reached into your hair, the strands draping over his tattooed fingers as he gently tugged at the roots, throwing his head back when your moans vibrated against his length. He held your face and pulled you off him, bending at the waist to look at you with desperate eyes.

“(Y/n), darling, fuck- can I fuck your mouth? Please, I’ll be gentle, please-”

Yes, you wanted to say, but all that came out were gargled moans as Wooyoung tongued at your entrance, teasing your hole with the wet muscle, slipping it in and out as he pleased. He pulled off your cunt to speak, holding you over his face.

“You’ll let Sannie fuck your throat, right?” Wooyoung smirked against your skin when he saw you nodding frantically above him, San’s hands cupping your cheeks and his cock jumping in your mouth. “Be a good girl and open up then,” he tapped your thigh, bringing you back down on his face.

Between Wooyoung’s tongue ruthlessly prodding against your g-spot, your hips moving on their own to grind against the curve of his nose, and San’s heavy cock fucking into your mouth, you were left an incoherent, moaning mess with drool streaming down your chin.

“Fuuuck, baby, you feel so good-” A throaty moan ripped out of San, his fingers tugging on your hair to push you all the way down his length, his jaw slack as he watched your eyes well up with tears while you held back from gagging. “Shit- I’m not gonna last.”

You were a breath away from tumbling over the edge, thighs burning as you rode Wooyoung’s face, his tongue sending shocks of pleasure soaring through your abdomen. Strong hands wrapped around your hips, bringing you down on his face and wrapping his lips around your clit. It took two harsh sucks for you to fall apart, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm. You felt Wooyoung’s teeth brushing over your clit, giving the swollen bud a small nibble before pulling away and slipping out from under you.

San was in heaven, his cock twitching on your tongue as your soft moans sent waves of ecstasy up his spine. But then Wooyoung’s hands were slapping his off you, pulling you away from him to lay you down on the mat.

“W-wait! I was so close!” San complained, reaching his hand towards you only to have it brushed away again. “Just a little more, p-please-“

“You’ll have her back later,” Wooyoung gave him a stern look, and San backed away, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock with a defeated exhale. He settled down on his knees, watching as Wooyoung turned his attention back to you, your thighs still twitching with the force of your orgasm. His cock throbbed when he saw Wooyoung’s face, drenched in your arousal, his eyes ablaze with the purest forms of lust. San’s eyes moved to Wooyoung’s hand, veins protruding from the skin as he sunk two fingers into your sopping heat, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “You just had to be a little slut didn’t you? Was my mouth on your pussy and Sannie’s cock down your throat not enough for you?”

“F-felt too good, Youngie, I couldn’t help it!” You writhed under him, his long fingers ruthlessly pounding into you and building you up to a second orgasm.

“Aw, you couldn’t help cum before Sannie? All because my tongue felt too good in your cunt?”

“Uh-huuh- s-so good!”

Your eyes rolled back when Wooyoung’s other hand reached for your clit, rolling it between two fingers while he continued his tormenting.

“But I wanted to see you choke on Sannie’s cum,” he bit down on your jaw, slipping his fingers out as soon as your walls began clamping down on them, smirking when you looked up at him in shock.

“Youngiee, ‘wanna cum!”

You were too focused on Wooyoung’s face to notice his hand coming down on your cunt, the sharp slap reverberating in the empty gym. Your hips jolted off the mat when he landed another slap on your clit, your hole clenching around air.

“I don’t think you deserve it, though,” Wooyoung jutted out his lips in a faux pout, quickly turning into a smile when he saw tears running down the sides of your face. “Aww, you wanna cum that bad?”

You nodded desperately, angling your hips towards him, only to be met with another harsh slap to your cunt, letting out a strangled cry that bled into moan when Wooyoung’s fingers sunk into you again, continuing their rough pace. You felt pressure building in your lower belly, flashes of heat rushing through your body as Wooyoung drew out desperate whimpers from your lips, leaning down to press wet kisses to your skin. He trailed his tongue over the sides of your face, licking away your tears as you finally came undone on his fingers.

Wooyoung sat back on his heels, pulling his fingers out to watch as clear liquid squirted out your fluttering hole, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you gushed all over the mat and Wooyoung’s clothed thighs. He couldn’t help himself, bringing four fingers down on your clit, delivering a sharp slap to your cunt, then again, until you were convulsing under him, pushing his hands off you as the overstimulation became too much.

Wooyoung pulled back, watching violent tremors pass through your body, your eyes shut as you basked in the aftershocks of your orgasm. His eyes moved to San, bending at the waist beside you to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, pausing to gauge your reaction before placing another on your forehead. The scene in front of him was sweet, intimate – despite San being naked from the waist down – and Wooyoung felt the insatiable need to disturb it.

San flinched when Wooyoung pressed himself to his back – so close he could feel the metal bar piercing one of his nipples brush against his clothed spine – hooking his chin over his shoulder and wrapping his arm around his small waist to press his palm to San’s hard abdomen.

“What are you doing?” San tried to ignore the shakiness of his voice, hoping Wooyoung didn’t notice, though the grin on the other man’s face told him he did.

“You said you were close,” Wooyoung sounded, his fingers toying with the hem of San’s compression shirt before sliding down to rest over his snail trail, the barely-there touch making the hair on San’s arms stand. “I thought you might need a helping hand.”

San didn’t reply, only sucked in a breath once Wooyoung’s fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, his eyes half-shut as he revelled in the friction the other man provided. He angled his head downwards, moving his tongue around in his mouth before letting it roll out, a line of his spit steaming down to meet Wooyoung’s hand, easing the slide over his leaking cock. San’s head lolled back onto the younger man’s shoulder, soft moans slipping through his lips while Wooyoung built a steady pace, squeezing around his base every time he drew his hand back.

“A-ah, fuck, ‘gonna cum,” San’s voice was strained, his chest rapidly rising and falling as Wooyoung twisted his hand around his cockhead, collecting the absurd amount of precum leaking from the tip and coating the rest of his shaft with it. “Don’t stop, I’m so close-”

“I didn’t know you could make cute noises like this, Sannie,” Wooyoung purred, his lips pressed to the shell of his ear, smirking when he felt San’s dick twitch in his hand. “Careful, I might end up making you squirt too.”

With Wooyoung’s hand avidly pumping his length, his warm breath blowing against his ear, the raspiness of his voice echoing in his head, San’s whole body shuddered as his high washed over him, hot ropes of cum painting your chest, some of it falling on your neck and chin. His heavy grunts were like music to Wooyoung’s ears, his hand squeezing out every last drop of San’s release until the older man was an overstimulated, whimpering mess, pushing him away from his softening member.

Falling limp on his knees, it only took San a couple seconds to zero in on your tits, following the cum sliding down their slope and leaving a translucent tint on your nipples. With two fingers, he smeared his release over your perked-up buds, taking one between his pointer and thumb and tweaking it until you were whining under him. San was awestruck, his body moving on its own, scooping up some of the cum on his fingers and bringing it up to your mouth – already open and waiting. He nearly moaned at the way your tongue circled his tattooed digits, your cheeks hollowing to suck them clean, prompting him to pull out only to collect more of his release and feed it to you.

Just as you were about to gulp down the bitter liquid, Wooyoung’s voice reminded you of his presence. A simple, “Don’t swallow,” and you were frozen in place, your mouth remaining open even after San pulled his fingers out.

Wooyoung was back on his knees beside you, leaning down to press his lips to yours, his tongue slipping inside to lick up San’s release, collecting it in his mouth before sitting back up. Twisting his body to face the older man, he grabbed his jaw firmly, squeezing it until his cheeks squished together and his lips parted. It happened in slow motion – Wooyoung’s lips pursing, tongue moving around as he collected the mixture of liquids before spitting it directly into San’s mouth and leaning down to connect their lips. San couldn’t process what had happened, but Wooyoung kissing him left him breathless, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt him graze the roof of his mouth. It was only when the other man’s tongue pushed the compound of spit and cum down his throat that his eyes snapped open, instantly meeting Wooyoung’s – already agape, lidded as they watched his blissed-out face.

Wooyoung’s other hand wrapped loosely around San’s neck, keeping his eyes fixed on his face, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Knowing exactly what the younger man wanted, San swallowed down his cum, maintaining a neutral expression as the tangy liquid washed down his throat. Wooyoung’s lips lifted after he felt his Adam’s apple bob under his palm, pulling away from San and letting his arm fall to his side, a triumphant smirk gracing his features.

It was as if they had forgotten about your presence, emitting a small noise to draw their attention back to you. Two heads twisted to face you, eyebrows raising and eyes following your fingers as they carried San’s cum to your mouth, your tongue licking them clean. Your gaze was fixed on Wooyoung, taking in the sweat shining on his temples, his slightly parted lips – glossy from San’s spit – and finally, the tent in his sweatpants, throbbing at the sight of you. Your free hand reached for his shirt and tugged at the dark material, pulling your fingers out of your mouth to speak.

“Please, Youngie, w-want you,” you pulled at his shirt, finally breaking Wooyoung out of the trance he was in.

Throwing his shirt off, Wooyoung fitted himself between your legs, leaning down to mouth against your neck, the metal bar piercing his nipple cold where it pressed into your heated skin. “Did one little kiss make our pretty slut wet again?” He scoffed at the shy nod you gave in response, trailing his lips down to your chest and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, licking off the remnants of San’s cum. You arched your back, pushing your tits further into Wooyoung’s mouth and whimpering when he slid his leaking tip through your folds. “You’re so cute,” he brought his face back up to yours, the corners of his lips curled into an impish smile. “You want Youngie’s cock that bad?”

Just as you were about to stutter out a response, Wooyoung pushed his cock past your entrance, sheathing his whole length between your pulsating walls and groaning into your neck. “Fuuuck, you’re so tight for me, darling.”

Wooyoung gave you two seconds to adjust to the stretch before he began pounding into your sopping heat, his hands gripping your waist and his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“W-wait- hnnngh!” Your hands flew to his back, nails digging into the skin whole your body jolted upwards on the mat every time he slammed his hips into you. “S-slow down!”

“I thought you wanted me?” Wooyoung pulled away to take in your fucked-out expression, broken moans making his cock twitch inside you as he drove it directly into your g-spot.

“Y-yes, but-”

“So you’ll shut up and take me,” he held your jaw firmly, his other hand sliding down to your hip. “You’ll be my pretty little cocksleeve from now on, won’t you?” You felt a flash of heat shooting down to your core, your thighs twitching around Wooyoung, moans muffled as he squished your cheeks together, your lips parting as you stared into his eyes pleadingly. He used the hand on your face to give your head a curt shake, his chest heaving despite the stern look on his face. “I asked you a question.”

You nodded desperately, crying out a quick succession of yes and please. Wooyoung eased his grip on your jaw before pulling his hand away entirely, eying your parted lips momentarily before shoving two of his fingers into your mouth and hooking them behind your bottom teeth to open them further. You felt the hot wad of spit land on your tongue, mewling as it trickled down your throat, Wooyoung’s cock sliding against your walls deliciously, making the room around you blur so all your attention could go to the man ravishing you as though you were his last meal.

Knowing Wooyoung wouldn’t relent, you looked up at the man who would. San stared right back at you, his cock already half hard and twitching at the sight of you – thighs shaking violently around Wooyoung, sweat reflecting off your flushed skin, tears pooling in your eyes as he relentlessly fucked himself into you. San spotted the slight wobbling of your bottom lip, your tears now flowing down the sides of your face while broken moans and cries ripped through your chest, Wooyoung thrusting into you like an animal in heat, his own grunts muffled by your skin.

San slid himself behind Wooyoung and cupped his hips, hooking his chin over the other man’s shoulder to eye the drool leaking out the corner of your mouth.

“Look at her, all fucked out and sensitive,” San spoke softly, his hot breath blowing against Wooyoung’s ear, a shiver shaking the latter’s body. “Slow down a little-”

“Get off me, ‘don’t wanna slow down,” he interrupted, pressing his cockhead into your sweet spot and rolling his hips to drag his length further into you before returning to his unrelenting pace.

“But you have to, Youngie. You can’t break her yet, not before I’ve had my turn with her pretty cunt.” San’s fingers dug into the younger man’s hips, his biceps flexing as he used his strength to slow him down. Wooyoung resisted at first, but his eyes caught the way San’s hands gripped his hips – veins popping out and fingers turning white, making his tattoos look more prominent – and allowed him to guide his cock into you. “There we go,” San leaned forward to press a faint kiss to his jaw. “Good boy.”

His hands eased their hold on Wooyoung’s hips to travel up his body, feeling the muscles tense under his warm touch. San slid his cock over his perky ass, eyebrows raising and when he noticed the dainty butterfly tattooed over his tailbone, sensing himself getting harder. His fingers tweaked Wooyoung’s nipple, tugging at the metal bar until he was whimpering on top of you, biting down on his bottom lip while grinding into your clenching cunt. San brushed his thumb over the tramp stamp, smearing the precum that leaked from his tip over the black ink while rutting on Wooyoung’s ass.

The visual of San licking up the sweat off Wooyoung’s neck paired with the younger man’s heavy cock grinding into you was enough to push you over the edge again, your walls clamping down on him as black dots danced in your vision. You grabbed onto Wooyoung’s biceps, your hips frantically rolling to meet his languid thrusts while you begged him to fuck you through your high, breathing out a series of please and faster. Wooyoung’s hips picked up their pace, fucking into you as his own desperate moans escaped through his lips.

Your nails dug into Wooyoung’s skin when pleasure faded into pain from overstimulation, your toes curling and tears staining your skin, your body jerking every time he drove his cock into you.

“Just a little longer, shit, I’m so fucking close-”

San pressed himself to Wooyoung’s back, sliding his cock down his ass to brush over his perky hole, his cockhead pressing into the fluttering entrance – but not quite breaching it – while harshly tugging on his nipple. Wooyoung nearly saw stars, his eyes rolling back when he finally emptied inside you, warmth spreading through your abdomen as his hot cum filled you up, some of it leaking out while his cock was still inside you. He pulled his softening member out and flopped down on the mat beside you, his chest heaving as he recovered from his orgasm. Twisting his head to look at you, Wooyoung brushed a knuckle over your cheekbone to wipe away a stray tear, the fondness lacing his expression so gentle it sent a wave of warmth to your cheeks. Wooyoung looked like he was about to say something, but San was wrapping you up in his arms, and the words died on his tongue.

Gentle fingers smoothed down your hair and soft lips peppered feathery kisses over the tears drying on your cheeks. San’s hands slid over your arms, gentle fingers massaging the tense muscles. “You’re okay,” he muttered against your skin, “I’m here.” He brushed back the hair matted to your forehead, pressing a kiss to the slick skin before drawing back to study your face. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth at the peacefulness of your features, leaning back down to slot his lips against yours, fitting himself against your body – his shirt already off and thrown to the side – humming when your fingers ran through his hair. You parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue access to slip into your mouth, sliding over your front teeth before pushing against your own. You caged his hips in with your thighs, locking your ankles behind his knees to bring him closer, releasing breathy moans that San happily swallowed up.

“Sannie, ‘want you…” you mumbled against his lips, his own traveling down to press wet kisses over your chin and jawline.

“Are you sure, baby? You don’t need more time?”

Despite his concern, his tone was breathy, a subtle whine to his voice. Looking down between your bodies, you glanced at San’s cock – the tip red and angry, twitching when he caught you looking at it. So you shook your head, perhaps a little too eager.

“Want you now,” you insisted, sliding your hand down to grab him at the base, squeezing your fingers around him and relishing the groan it pulled out of the man on top of you.

San allowed you to guide him to your fluttering hole, dipping his cockhead into the stream of cum still leaking out of you before brushing it over your clit, your whole body shuddering under him. He angled his head down and spat on his cock, watching your ephemeral shock shift into arousal, coating his length with his saliva before dragging it back down to your hole. San’s mind fogged up when he finally pushed into you, his mouth hanging open as your searing heat enveloped him. Your sharp hiss brought him back to the present, promptly cupping your cheek and examining your face, landing one kiss after the other onto the flushed skin.

“I’m here, baby, does it hurt? Do you want to stop?” He glided his hand over your thigh, fingers digging into the plush skin before releasing it, his eyes soft as they took in your reactions.

You shook your head, using your legs – still locked at the ankles behind his knees – to push him further into you. “No, ‘feels good, Sannie,” you assured him, your nails scratching at his scalp.

“Yeah?” Aside from the cocky smirk curling the corner of his mouth, San looked absolutely fucked – lidded eyes, glazed over with lust, red spread out in splotches over his chest, heaving as he resisted the urge to thrust into you. “Am I making my pretty girl feel good?”

You nodded and rolled your hips into his, silently begging him to move. And taking one look at your teary eyes, San couldn’t help but oblige, drawing his hips back and thrusting into your heat, a harmony of moans ripping through the both of you. San felt so good, his cock brushing over your walls just right with every languid grind, fleeting touches to your skin only adding fuel to the fire burning within you. Using the hand in his hair, you pulled him down to close the gap between you, your tongues dancing in the middle before you began taking turns sucking them into each other’s mouths, slobber dripping down the sides of your face.

Firm fingers grasped your chin, startling you away from San and twisting your face to the side. Wooyoung was propped up on his elbow, looking down at you with a hooded eyes while he swiped away the spit leaking from your mouth.

“Look at our pretty cockslut taking Sannie so well… I bet he’s been waiting so long to have you, haven’t you, loverboy?” Wooyoung cooed, directing his gaze to the man on top of you and blinking innocently, a wicked smile on his lips.

It took San a few seconds to process what the man had said, the haze of pleasure clouding his brain. His hands flew to your ears when the words became coherent – an attempt to shield you from the feelings he had repressed behind locked doors, feelings he was willing to shroud so long as he was by your side, content to simply exist in your presence. His ears turned bright red, the tint spreading to his face and all the way down his chest. San’s heart slammed against his chest and into yours, its rapid pace almost alarming.

“Ya! S-shut up!”

“What? You don’t think everyone already knows about your little crush?” Wooyoung twirled a strand of San’s hair around his finger, mockingly pouting his lips at the flustered man.

Just before San could retaliate, delicate hands cradled his face and brought his gaze back to you. He nearly melted into the floor, mooning over the softness in your eyes – wide and glimmering – as they looked up at him. Mouthing “it’s okay,” you gave him quick, reassuring nod, a certain promise cloaked behind the glint in your eyes.

It was as though the weight of the world had lifted off San’s chest, his eyebrows raising as he fully took in the insinuation in your expression, eyes tearing up for a few seconds before he dropped his head down to connect your lips once again. The kiss was desperate but gentle, soft nibbling on your bottom lip, San’s hot tongue pressing against your own before pulling away to trail his lips down your face to your neck.

“You’re so perfect,” he mumbled against your pulse point, “so beautiful.” He revelled in the airy moans you breathed out while he sucked a bruise into your skin, then another, before licking a stripe up your neck to lightly sink his teeth into your jaw. “Want everyone to know we’re the only ones who can have you like this.”

We – the pluralism sent the butterflies in your stomach on a rampage. Before your attention could shift to the neglected man to your side, San drew his length out until only the tip was left inside you, your walls desperately clenching down on it while you whined at the loss. But then he was pushing back in, finally fucking himself into your weeping cunt, your arousal mixed with Wooyoung’s cum squelching every time San’s cock pumped into you.

“Let me know if it’s too much, sweetheart,” San’s tone was so gentle, and yet you couldn’t ignore the growl in his voice while he basked in the flaring heat of your walls, his attentive eyes full of want.

“More,” you pleaded, your eyes never leaving San’s while he adjusted his position.

Wooyoung’s hand suddenly gripped the underside of your thigh and pulled it towards him to spread you out for San, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheekbone. San dug his knees into the mat, pushing further into you and remaining still for a few seconds until you began whining again. With a breathy chuckle, he began pistoning his hips into you, praise rolling off his tongue as your walls contracted around him. The world around him faded away until only you remained – the sweet succession of his name, the pleasure painting your features, the gentle tugging against his scalp where your fingers tangled in his hair. San couldn’t focus on anything else.

Until rough fingers made their way between your bodies, sliding his arm behind your knee to reach the place where you were connected. Making a ‘v’ shape with his fingers, Wooyoung hooked them around San’s cock, nearly moaning when he felt the way it stretched you open. A rough “ah” ripped through San’s throat, thrusting inside you to feel your cunt squeezing down on him then pulling out to revel in the glide of Wooyoung’s fingers around his slick base.

When he thought he couldn’t get any harder, Wooyoung leaned in to whisper in his ear – low and sultry while his fingers dipped lower to cup his balls. “How does it feel to fuck my load into her, Sannie?”

With a flabby squeeze to his sack, Wooyoung felt it empty as San finally came, his whole body shuddering as his orgasm washed over him, emptying his load deep inside you. San cursed under his breath, slowly fucking his cum into your used cunt while it spurted out of him, his cock throbbing at the sight of you writhing with the need to come. Wooyoung’s hand slipped off San when he moved to pull out, moving to spread you out again and watching the other man’s cum mix with his own while it leaked out of your gaping hole. He eyed how you clenched around nothing for a few seconds before San’s fingers slipped back inside you, the black ink adoring them turning glossy with your arousal.

“I’ve got you, darling,” he leaned down to pepper your face with soft pecks, his fingers hammering into you and curling into your g-spot. “Will our sweet girl give us one more?”

You nodded desperately, tears streaking down your face and moans slipping through your lips without restraint. Wooyoung’s hand kneaded your thigh, his eyes fixed on your swollen clit, visibly contemplating something in his head. You were too busy relishing the tender kisses San dropped on your heated skin to notice Wooyoung’s hand dropping on your pussy, the sharp sting making your body jolt under San. The pain from Wooyoung’s slap paired with San’s fingers mercilessly hammering into your cunt made your eyes roll to the back of your head, your thighs shaking rabidly as the pressure building in your lower belly released, sending you tumbling into your orgasm. You nails dug into San’s biceps and your hips simultaneously pushed to meet his thrusts and pulled away from them, delirious after being dragged over the edge so many times.

San’s fingers slowed as you came down from your high, tapping against the spongy spot along your walls and taking in how your hips jerked at his ministrations. Just as he pulled out of you, Wooyoung’s hand landed another sharp slap to your clit, making you cry out from the overstimulation. But before San could berate him for it, it was like a dam broke within you, hot liquid squirting out of your fluttering hole.

The two men simply watched the scene unfold before them for a few moments before San's body began moving on its own. With a hand to the back of his head, San dragged Wooyoung down to your cunt, taking in how his mouth opened on its own to catch everything you had to give him. San’s fingers tugged at the younger man’s hair, pushing his head into your mound and observing how his tongue rolled out to lick over your entrance, taking the concoction of San’s cum and his own into his mouth and swallowing it down.

You watched as Wooyoung sat back up, taking San’s hands and slipping the fingers that had been fucking into you inside his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking them clean. San eyed him with lidded eyes, studying the slide of the younger man's tongue over his trimmed nails. Before he could process Wooyoung’s head moving closer, he had already sealed his lips against San’s, sliding his tongue into his mouth to give him a taste of all of you combined. An unpleased whine rumbled through San’s chest when Woooyoung pulled away, his glossy lips forming a pout when he gave the tip of San’s nose a kitten lick and shot him a playful wink.

Wooyoung’s attention was back on you before San could even blink, spreading out beside your worn-down body and gliding a gentle palm down your side. San did the same, flopping down opposite to Wooyoung and brushing the hair off your face, leaning over you to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Is a five minute break enough before we start the next rep?” Wooyoung joked, giggling when you swung a limp arm into his chest.

“You’re insufferable,” you laughed, noting how San’s chest vibrated against your shoulder with his own giggles.

Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek, holding them in place for a few seconds before drawing back, only to plant a series of kisses down your neck and to your collarbones. “Are you feeling okay? Was it too much? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Your eyes softened at the concern lacing Wooyoung’s tone and you smoothed down the furrow of his eyebrows with a gentle thumb. Shaking your head, you brushed the hair off his face and spoke. “You didn’t hurt me, Youngie. I-I really liked it... all of it,” you mumbled the last part, a faint blush warming your cheeks at the admission. You could see Wooyoung's worry dissipating, a witty comeback at the tip of his tongue.

“(Y/n),” San drew your attention back to him before Wooyoung could tease you, noticing his burning ears and the fiddling of his fingers at your waist. “Earlier, you…” he cleared his throat, and you fought the smile off your lips while watching him struggle to express himself. You saw him gather up the courage to pry open the door he’d welded shut long ago. “I want you,” he blurted out, “a-and I don’t mean only in this way,” he flailed his hands between your bodies before reaching down to lock his fingers with yours, his anxiety turning into panic and making your heart swell with fondness. “I want all of you, I want to make you happy and-” he sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “I-I guess, all I’m asking for is a chance.”

“San-”

“You’re playing dirty, you dickhead!” Wooyoung interrupted, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. “Don’t try to steal her away for yourself!”

Your eyebrows raised in shock, trying to process the situation brought on by the two men bickering on either side of you, arguing about who would get the princess when the princess herself was unsure of what she wanted. Your infatuation with San was undeniable, every fleeting touch left your skin burning for days, every smile directed towards you had the butterflies in your stomach going rabid, eating at the insides of your stomach. Everything about Choi San was warm – his eyes, his words, his expression, all were laced with scotching heat, leaving you burning from within.

Whatever it was you felt towards Wooyoung was fiery, fervent, leaving you dazed and confused – what was it about him that drew you in? Perhaps it was his playfulness, or was it the way he changed up on you? One second Wooyoung was a friend and the other he was dropping subtle hints – a flirtatious wink, or a hand on your hip that held its place for a second too long for it to be friendly. You’d simply assumed him to be a flirt by nature, though one peek at his interactions with other women and you were proven wrong: Jung Wooyoung only treated you this way – as though you painted the clouds on the blue sky with your bare hands – and you found yourself rejoicing in that fact. Perhaps you’d already made up your mind, and it was simply your denial and cowardice that had held you back this whole time.

“What if-” you began, both men ceasing their banter and turning to look at you. You swallowed nervously, your mouth dry and your heart beating wildly against your ribcage. “What if I wanted… both of you?” You looked between their shocked faces, your voice small as you uttered the next question. “Is that too much to ask?”

“No!” They replied in unison, the intensity of their voices startling you.

Relief rushed through you and you closed your eyes to revel in the moment, the two men back to speaking over each other, going on about how they would do anything make you happy – “happier than a child at Disneyland,” San specified. The squabbling persisted even while they cleaned you up and helped you into your clothes, San shouting back at Wooyoung while he guided you through your cool-down stretches, the other man cleaning up the floor and wiping down the equipment.

As boisterous as they were, you found yourself smiling adoringly at the two men fighting over who would drive you home – matters that were trivial to you, but somehow meant the world to them. In the back of your mind, you knew you had a lot to talk about and discuss to ensure everyone was content, but right now, you couldn’t help but savour the pleasant feeling in your stomach, the soft fluttering of butterflies as two men you thought the world of doted on you. Their eyes were full of adoration, fingers twitching with the urge to hand-pick the stars from the night sky to make into a necklace for you, hoping it would come close to shining as bright as you do.

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