Keep Your Eyes On The Prize (Gojo Satoru x Male Reader)
⊹₊⟡⋆Part 1⋆⊹₊⟡
Summary ˖ ᡣ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊
A sequel to my 'Tomorrow' fic, as requested here. To the sweetheart to requested it, I hope it's everything you wanted it to be 😊. (FYI, I know nothing about American football, so forgive me if I've committed cardinal sins against the game. I should have just written 'football things' and left it, but I tried to research 😭)
The roar of the crowd presses in on all sides like a living thing, a surge of stomping feet and overlapping voices that vibrates up through the bleachers and straight into your skull.
Every shout, every rhythmic chant of his name, lands against your temples, a headache already blooming behind your eyes. You should have brought earplugs, or at least taken the painkillers you keep in your bag for late-night study sessions, but you didn’t, because this isn’t supposed to be about you.
You promised him you’d be here. You’d carved out a couple hours from your packed schedule of deadlines and problem sets, told yourself it mattered that he knew someone was watching who wasn’t screaming for the jersey or the legend or the next highlight reel.
So you stay planted, hoodie pulled low, headphones looped around your neck like a comfort blanket, the stack of textbooks beside you a silent barrier between you and the sea of painted faces and waving signs.
Down on the field, the play unfolds in a sudden, violent burst. One second the line is locked, the ball snaps free and Gojo is already moving, long strides eating up turf. The name 'GOJO' stretches across his back in bold white letters, a declaration that feels almost personal when his body cuts through the chaos like it was scripted just for this.
You watch the arc of the pass, the way the leather spins clean against the sky, and then he’s leaping, snatching it out of the air without breaking stride. Defenders converge, arms outstretched, bodies hurtling, one clips his shoulder and spins away, another lunges low and is shouldered aside by a teammate who appears from nowhere.
Gojo slips them all. There’s no wasted motion, no hesitation, only that bright, feral joy flickering across his face as the goal line rushes up to meet him.
He crosses it with room to spare, plants one foot on the painted line, and throws the crowd that signature cocky salute, two fingers to his brow, a flash of white teeth, before the stands detonate. Thousands of voices fuse into a single deafening roar, bodies surging upright, fists pumping, the screen above replaying the catch in slow motion so everyone can worship it twice.
Your own mouth curves, small and private, the kind of smile you can’t quite suppress even when you try. Because the man down there receiving all this adoration, the one they’re chanting for, the one they want to claim, is the same one who’ll be crawling into your bed later tonight, sweaty and laughing and reaching for you like you’re the only thing that keeps the noise at bay. The thought sends heat curling low in your gut, a quiet counterpoint to the frenzy around you.
The buzzer cracks overhead, announcing halftime into the night. You don’t move right away. Instead you let your gaze linger on him as he peels the helmet free completely, shaking out that impossible silver hair so it sticks up in damp spikes.
Sweat gleams across his forehead, catches the lights in tiny prismatic shards, and when he drags the hem of his jersey up to wipe his face the motion pulls the fabric high enough to expose a taut strip of abdomen, delightfully flushed, carved from hours of drills and hits.
Your breath hitches, your cock gives a helpless twitch against the seam of your jeans. You swallow once, already calculating how long you have to wait before you can slip away and find him.
That’s when she appears.
A cheerleader materialises at his side like she was summoned by the spotlight itself, petite, uniform crisp despite the heat, pom-poms still clutched in one hand while the other offers a glistening water bottle.
Her smile is practiced, bright, the kind that’s been rehearsed in dorm mirrors. She lays her palm against his bicep, casual, familiar, fingers sliding over his sweat-slicked skin without hesitation.
Gojo glances down at her, nods once, flashes one of those quick, polite half-smiles that never quite reach his eyes. His attention is already drifting, cerulean gaze sweeping the stands in restless arcs until it snags on you.
The change is instant. His whole face lights up, the kind of smile he saves for when no one else is watching. Your pulse stutters.
You drop your eyes fast, heat flooding your cheeks, terrified that if you hold his stare too long the entire stadium will see the raw desire carved into your expression. When you risk another glance he’s already shifting his weight, body angling toward the stairs like he means to climb them right now, consequences be damned.
But she stops him, a small hand pressed flat against his chest plate, pressing the bottle firmly into his grip. He pauses to listen. And then he laughs, head tipping back, eyes squeezing into delighted little crescents as he angles himself towards her, the sound carrying even over the crowds noise.
Something sour coils behind your ribs. Your fingers curl, nails biting into your palms until the sting soothes you. You crack one knuckle, then another, trying to force the ugly bloom of jealousy back down where it belongs.
Secret, you remind yourself. This has to stay secret. You knew this, you accepted this.
You’re still staring when Geto slides onto the bleacher beside you.
He moves with that same lazy, feline like confidence you’ve seen on the field, dark hair spilling over one shoulder as he leans in just enough that the scent of turf, sweat, and faintly sweet Gatorade fills the narrow space between your bodies. His purple eyes meet yours, calm and amused, the corners of his mouth lifting.
“Hey” he says, voice pitched low to cut through the din without shouting. “Don’t think we’ve officially met.”
You flick your gaze down to the field, Gojo still hasn’t noticed yet, head tilted back as he drains the water bottle, throat working while the cheerleader chatters on. You force your attention back to Geto, drag up a smile that feels too tight. “No…” you manage after a beat, the word coming out slower than you mean it to. “We haven’t.”
“Gojo talks about you a lot.” Geto’s tone is warm, almost conspiratorial, like he’s sharing something salacious. Your heart does a stupid, eager flip, a smile forming on your lips. “Says you’re the reason his grades finally stopped tanking.” You wonder if your face fell as fast as your heart did.
“Oh.” You crack another knuckle, the sound sharp to your own ears. “That’s… good.”
“Yeah.” Geto exhales the word like smoke, leaning a fraction closer. “You know, I think he’s seeing someone.”
Everything in you locks. You hold very still, voice scraping out careful and thin. “Really?”
“Mhm.” He grins now, slow and feline. “He’s been showboating all night. Throwing prettier spirals than usual. Gotta be for someone special.”
You force a small laugh that doesn’t land. “Well… everyone likes him, so…”
The sentence trails into nothing. You drop your eyes to the stack of books at your hip, tracing the curled corner of the top one with your thumbnail as if it was suddenly the most fascinating thing. Geto lets out a soft huff of amusement.
You can’t help it, your gaze drags back to the field, helplessly drawn to him.
Gojo isn’t laughing anymore.
His eyes are locked on you now, the crushed water bottle forgotten in his fist. Water spills over his knuckles in glittering streams that catch the lights and drip onto the turf. The cheerleader has stepped back half a pace, her smile faltering.
A vicious little thread of triumph twists in your chest before you can strangle it. Serves him right, you think, the words bitter and satisfied at once. It’s only the touch of a cool fingertip against your temple that breaks your fixation. You flinch back slightly, shoulders curling, but Geto doesn’t retreat.
“Is it too hot out here for you?” He asks gently, pushing a lock of hair from your forehead, the strands clinging to the thin layer of perspiration on your skin. You shake your head a little, shoulders lifting a fraction, he arches a perfect brow. “You sure, pretty boy?”
You turn to him, expression shuttered. “Hey.” The word comes out flat, that veneer of civility worn to nothing. “I’m not sure if you’re meaning to flirt with me, or if I’m just reading it wrong, but either way, I’m not interested.”
For one second his face freezes, then, just as fast, he’s laughing, tipping his head so a lock of black hair slides across his cheek. “Cold” he drawls, no real sting in it. “Shot down before I even got started.”
“Sorry” you say again, already distracted as you turn away again, scanning the field for that signature silver hair.
He’s gone.
The space where he stood is empty now. You strain upward, searching the sidelines, the tunnel mouth, the clusters of players…nothing.
Geto leans in one last time, lips brushing the shell of your ear, warm breath sending an involuntary shiver racing down your spine. “See you around” he murmurs, the words barely audible, intimate in a way that makes your skin crawl. His hand ghosts over your shoulder, before he stands and slips away into the crowd.
You scrub at your ear with the heel of your palm, trying to erase the lingering heat of his mouth, the faint damp press of his lips. Down on the field the halftime show is winding down, lights shifting, music swelling again, but all you can feel is the sudden, hollow ache of his absence, and this gnawing feeling that somethings about to break.
…
The final whistle echoes in your ears, a thin, metallic ring that burrows under your skin like a splinter. The scoreboard screams victory in electric blue and gold, the announcer’s voice booms over the crowd, and somewhere in the center of it all…is Gojo.
He’s swept up, lifted, carried on the shoulders of teammates who shout his name like a prayer. You should feel something bright, something proud. And you do, in fragments. But your happiness frays at the edges the moment the celebration swallows him whole.
You stand frozen on the bleacher step where you rose without thinking, books clutched against your chest, the strap of your bag cutting into your shoulder. Around you the crowd surges forward, bodies pressing, voices overlapping, someone’s elbow jabbing your ribs, but none of it touches the cold hollow opening in your sternum.
You need him to look. Just once more. A single glance, quick and secret, the kind he’s given you in crowded hallways or across lecture halls when no one else was paying attention. Something small, something only the two of you would understand. Proof that this win isn’t only his, that some quiet part of it belongs to the nights he spent sprawled across your bed with textbooks forgotten, mouth on your skin, whispering your name.
And he does look.
For one brilliant second his head turns, those eyes that hold the sky find you. The air leaves your lungs in a soft, helpless rush. He sees you. He has to see you. His gaze is cold, devoid of it’s usual warmth when it’s turned on you.
And then it’s gone.
His gaze slides past you, already drawn back to the chaos around him. A teammate slings an arm around his neck, another ruffles his hair hard enough to make him laugh, the sound carrying despite the noise. They close ranks. Shoulders and helmets and jerseys block him from view until there’s nothing left but fleeting flashes of white.
You feel it, the slow, sick slide of doubt uncoiling in your gut like an ugly serpent. It’s not new, you’ve carried it for months, tucked neatly behind your ribs where it can’t be seen. Every time you caught your reflection next to his in a window or a mirror, your tired eyes, the way you never fill a room the way he does, it unfurls, roars its ugly words into your ear.
You told yourself it didn’t matter. That he chose you anyway. That the secrecy was temporary, a shield until the timing was right. But now the thoughts rush in unchecked, louder than the noise around you, sharper than the cold seeping through your hoodie.
Is he tired of it? Of sneaking through back stairwells, of texts deleted before anyone can see, of pretending you’re just a tutor? Was it ever more than convenience, a way to blow off steam between practices and parties? An experiment he’s ready to end now that the semesters over and the spotlight burns just for him?
Your bottom lip catches between your teeth, you bite down until you taste blood. Your body locks, knees rigid, fingers white-knuckled around the edges of your books, because you’re afraid that if you move too suddenly, the tears waiting behind your eyes will finally spill and everyone will see. You can’t let them see. Not here, not now.
Before the doubt can harden into something brittle, you turn. You don’t run, not exactly. You move with a singular purpose, head down, shoulders hunched, weaving through the crush of bodies like you belong to the current.
A voice calls out Gojo’s name right beside your ear, so close you flinch. The tears come anyway, hot, blurring, turning the sea of jerseys and faces into smears of blue and grey and white until the whole stadium feels like it’s dissolving around you.
You don’t look back. You can’t. If you look back and he’s still gone, lost in that bright, hungry orbit, you’re not sure what piece of you will crack open and refuse to close again.
The thoughts drowns you. Maybe he was never yours to hold onto in the first place. Maybe you were only ever borrowing his light, and now it’s over. He’s finally ready to take it back.
You step out into the parking lot, the chill biting through your hoodie, and the tears fall freely now while somewhere behind you, the celebration rages on without you, without even noticing you’re gone.
…
You do the only thing you know how to do when things become too much to take. You ignore it. Bury your head in the sand and drown yourself in work.
The hours bleed together in the dim cone light of your desk lamp, the only sound the soft scratch of your pen against paper and the sound of your own heart.
You flip another page, then another, eyes swimming over annotations you’d memorised months ago, tracing the same lines again anyway. You read ahead, past the syllabus and into the optional chapters no professor ever expects you to touch, paragraphs blurring into dense blocks of text that refuse to make sense.
Anything to keep the quiet from pressing too hard, to keep your mind from straying to him again, to what he might be doing, and who he might be doing it with.
But your room has never felt so empty.
He used to fill it without trying, you’d gotten so used to him. Sprawled across your narrow bed with his long legs hanging off the end, pretending to scroll through his phone while watching you over the top of the screen with that lazy, half-lidded intensity that made your skin prickle.
You’d pretend not to notice, nose buried in notes, but every time he shifted, every time he huffed a quiet laugh at something on his feed, the air changed. Somehow warmer, and lighter.
It doesn’t work. You want him, you want him here, with his warm smell, his warm hands, his bright eyes, and even brighter laughter.
You want him here.
And not the public version, the perfect, untouchable athlete with the easy smiles. No, you want the private Gojo. The one who smells faintly of turf and sweat after practice, whose eyes go soft when he thinks no one else can see. The one whose laughter starts low in his chest and ends up bright, reckless, filling every corner of this cramped space.
You stare down at the words on the paper in-front of you, your pen strokes so hard they’ve almost gone through the paper. You fling the pen across the desk. It clatters off the table and and falls silent on the floor. Your fists come up fast, pressing into your eye sockets until white sparks bloom behind your lids, until the pressure almost drowns out the hollow throb in your chest.
A sudden, violent bang shatters the quiet, the wood door shuddering on its hinges under the impact. Then another, each more frantic than the last, like someone is trying to kick the door open.
You rush to the door and wrench it open with enough force to make the chain rattle, ready to hiss at whoever it is to stop before the neighbours call security, or worse.
The words die the instant you see him.
Gojo stands on your threshold like he’s been carved from the night itself, glowing like the moon itself, a flush high on his cheeks, the colour spreading across the bridge of his nose in a deep, bitten-rose that makes your stomach twist. His eyes are glassy, unfocused, shimmering wet in the weak glow of the porch light, lashes clumped with what could be tears.
His silver hair stands on end in chaotic tufts, matted at the temples with sweat, or product, or the hands of too many people who wanted a piece of him tonight. His jersey hangs crooked, one shoulder low enough to bare the delicious dip of his collarbone.
“Where were you?” He sniffs, one hand braced on the doorframe. He uses the other to swipe at his nose, the motion quick and embarrassed, like he’s ashamed to be caught crying. “You just… disappeared.”
You drop your gaze to the scuffed floorboards between your feet, knowing that the next thing out of your mouth will be childish and petulant but not having the means to stop it. “You didn’t seem to need me there.”
“What— You were—” He coughs, spluttering a little, dragging that same hand through his hair again, fingers twisting in the strands hard enough to pull.“You were with Geto. Talking. Smiling. He touched your hair, for fuck’s sake.”
The accusations makes something in your chest flare, hot and indignant. “If you must know” you say, each word strained, clipped, cold, “we actually spoke about you. And the second he got too close I shut it down. Hard.” You lift your chin, forcing yourself to meet those glassy blue eyes. “I can’t say the same for you and your little…halftime fan.”
His mouth opens and closes like a guppy fish, you seize on his silence, needling him with your words.
“Was she more your type?” The question tastes like acid. “I heard all the stories, Satoru. Before me. You didn’t exactly play hard to get back then. She was cute. Really cute. You should’ve got her number. Especially now that you’re apparently—”
His fist meets the wood of your door, cutting your vitriolic monologue off.
Your brain screams at you to apologise, take it back, to not let what you have fracture any further. But the pathetic, aching part of you stays silent. Waiting. Wanting him to deny it. Wanting him to prove you still take up space in his chest the way he takes up every corner of yours. Wanting him to crack open, raw and bleeding, so you can finally see how much of him is still yours.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.
The seconds stretch, suffocating you slowly, and the longer it goes on, the more of your heart you feel splinter away.
You mirror him without thinking, dragging your own hand through your hair, shoving it roughly back from your forehead, the motion exhausted, defeated.
“Go home, Gojo” you sigh, an unbreakable weariness crashing over you in a slow, drowning wave. “I’m… tire—”
His mouth crashes into yours before the word finishes.
Hard. Deep. Wet.
His hands frame your face, wide palms engulfing your cheeks, thumbs sweeping tenderly over the crests of your cheekbones even as he presses forward, forcing you back across the threshold. You suck in a gasp just as his lips seal over yours, tasting the tang of beer on his tongue, the salt of his tears, one fat drop slipping free from the corner of his eye to track down his cheek and fall between your joined lips.
A soft, broken whimper escapes your throat. He drinks it down, pushing you back another step, one hand sliding from your face to splay wide at the small of your back, fingers digging in, as though letting even an inch of space open between you might allow you to slip away for good.
He kicks the door shut with the heel of his foot, the slam reverberating through the thin walls of your apartment. He doesn’t care, doesn’t even flinch. His body is already crowding yours, driving you backward until your spine meets the nearest stretch of wall with a dull thud that knocks the breath from you.
One thick thigh wedges between yours, pressing up hard against you so that you feel every hard inch of him, the heat of his arousal unmistakable even through layers of fabric. His heart hammers against your chest in frantic counterpoint to your own, a wild, unsteady rhythm that says he’s as terrified as he is desperate.
His hands turn greedy, fingers curling like claws into the soft flesh of your hips, your sides, the backs of your thighs, anywhere he can reach. His mouth is relentless, teeth catching your lower lip on the next kiss, tugging hard enough to sting before soothing it with a slow drag of his tongue.
You break away just long enough to drag in air, head falling back against the wall with a soft thunk, exposing the line of your throat. He doesn’t hesitate. His lips descend in a hot, open-mouthed path down the column of your neck, biting, not gentle nips, but real bites that bloom into vivid red marks almost instantly, each one a brand he sinks in deeper when you gasp.
“Don’t you ever say that again” he growls against your skin, voice rough, breath scorching where it fans over your skin. He pauses there, panting, chest heaving against yours. “You’re the only one I want. The only one I think about. Every fucking second.”
Heat floods your veins, thick and dizzying, feeling nothing but the press of his body, the scrape of his teeth, the way his fingers dig in harder as though afraid you’ll dissolve if he eases up even a fraction. But beneath the haze of want, the hurt you’ve been carrying all night claws its way back up, raw, insistent, refusing to be drowned out.
You lift both hands to his face, cradling his jaw, thumbs brushing over the sharp line of his cheekbones until he stills. Forcing him to look at you. His eyes are wild, and glassy with unshed tears, something that makes your heart twist painfully. You search them anyway, needing the truth he can never quite hide, even when every part of him wants to.
“Then why hide us?” The question comes out soft, almost a whisper, your voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. Your gaze flicks between his left eye and his right, watching for the flicker, the crack. “Why keep pretending I’m nothing to you in front of everyone?”
His brows draw together, a deep furrow carving between them. For one agonising second his eyes screw shut, like the question physically hurts. When they open again the blue is fractured, and raw.
“Because…” The word rushes out on a shaky exhale, barely audible. His hands slide to your waist, kneading restlessly, thumbs circling over your ribs in a rhythm that’s meant to ground him as much as it distracts you. “I was scared you’d get hurt.”
You wait, breath caught, letting the silence stretch until he has no choice but to keep going.
“Like you said” he continues, voice cracking on the edges, “before you I had… a reputation. I didn’t want you hearing the stories. Didn’t want people whispering shit about you…about us. Calling you the flavour of the month, or worse. I thought if they got to you, if they made you doubt…” He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I thought you’d run. That I’d lose you before I even really had you. So I hid it. Hid us. For as long as I could.”
His word are devastating. All the ugly fears you’ve been nursing dissolve in a single, breathless rush. Guilt follows fast on their heels, sharp and familiar; your own words echoed back at you, cruel in hindsight.
“Toru” you choke out, your fingers slide into his hair, gripping the silver strands hard enough to make him wince softly. His eyes search yours, wide and vulnerable in a way he rarely allows. “I’d never run from you.”
He sucks in a shuddering breath, those impossible blue eyes flaring brighter.
“I love you” he says, voice breaking on the confession. “I love you, Y/N. I really fucking do.”
The words burn through you, searing the last of the doubt away. Your throat tightens, eyes stinging hot. “I love you too, Toru. So much.”
His mouth finds yours again, a clutch of lips and teeth and tongue that steals what little air you have left. He pulls back just enough, chest brushing yours in ragged rises and falls, eyes fluttering shut as though he’s letting your words sink in. When opens them again, his pupils have almost swallowed the blue, raw with unfiltered desire.
“I won’t stop” he growls low, hands sliding from your waist to the hem of your shirt, fingers teasing the edge, knuckles grazing bare skin. “Once I start I won’t be able to—I’ll—”
“Toru.” Your voice drops into something darker, sultrier, fingers pressing gently but firmly over his lips to quiet him. “I won’t ever tell you to stop.”
His tongue flicks out immediately, sliding between your fingers to lick a slow, lascivious stripe along the pads. His gaze never leaves yours. You shiver hard, teeth sinking into your own lip as heat coils tighter in your belly.
He pushes your hand aside and dives back to your throat, sucking a fresh mark into the skin just below your jaw while his fingers shove your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. The fabric catches briefly on your arms, he doesn’t wait, yanking it free and tossing it somewhere behind him.
Your pyjama pants give no real struggle before they surrender, pooling at your ankles when he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and drags them past your hips.
His palm cups you through your boxers, pressing just hard enough to feel the way your cock twitches under the touch. A soft, desperate sound tears from your throat. Your gasps turn ragged, eyes screwing shut as the fever takes hold completely.
It’s not healthy, this need, this bone-deep certainty that you’d rather stop breathing than stop feeling him, but the thought barely registers before it’s swept away.
“Fuck” he growls against your shoulder, lips trailing fire across your skin. He rests his cheek against you for a heartbeat, breathing you in, eyes lifting to search your face like he’s asking for something he already knows the answer to. “I want you so bad.”
Your lashes flutter open. His sapphire gaze glitters back at you.
“I’m yours” you whisper.
His eyes widen, mouth parting on a silent inhale. Then his arms wrap around you again, crushing you to his chest.
In one fluid motion he lifts you, hands braced firm under your ass, your legs instinctively locking around his waist, and carries you the last few steps toward the bed.
He lowers you toward the mattress, his mouth brushing your ear in a hot, trembling whisper. “I’m gonna make sure you never doubt us again”.
You’re already sinking back against the pillows, thighs parting in silent invitation as you feel the mattress dip under his weight. You expected him to settle between your legs, to press the hard line of his body flush against yours and chase the friction you both craved, but he didn’t.
Instead he slid lower.
His mouth mapped a slow, deliberate path down the center of your torso, open-mouthed kisses pressed to the fragile skin over your ribs, the dip of your navel, the sharp jut of your hipbone, each one hotter than the last, leaving faint, glistening trails that cooled too quickly in the cool air of your room.
When he reached the waistband of your boxers his hands found the backs of your thighs, warm palms sliding up until he could hook one leg gently over his shoulder.
Those cerulean eyes lifted to meet yours, he held you captive while his lips brushed the wet spot darkening the fabric of your boxer. Your cock jerked hard beneath the thin barrier, a helpless twitch that made heat flood your face. He smiled against you, the kind of smile that said he could feel every frantic pulse, and then his teeth caught the elastic.
He peeled your boxers down inch by torturous inch, never breaking eye contact, daring you with every slow drag to reach down and stop him. You didn’t. You couldn’t.
The waistband dragged over the head of your cock and then lower, freeing you completely, the sudden rush of cool air made you gasp, one hand flying to your mouth to muffle the sound as your length bobbed against your stomach, already leaking at the tip. He helped you pull them off the rest of the way, sending them arcing over his shoulder.
He licked his lips once, then leaned in and pressed the softest, wettest kiss right to the flushed head of your cock.
Your hips snapped upward before you could think, chasing the heat of his mouth. You forced them back down with a strangled noise, twisting your head to stare at the dull paint on the far wall, because looking at him, at the way his lashes fanned against flushed cheeks, at the way his tongue darted out to taste you, was too much. One slide of those perfect lips around you and you’d be gone, spilling down his throat without warning.
A light tap against your sternum pulled your gaze back down despite yourself.
He was watching you still, eyes half-lidded and wicked, tongue flat and slow as it circled the ruddy crown of your cock, collecting the bead of precum that welled up and swallowing it with a quiet, satisfied hum. The sight punched the air from your lungs.
“Fuck—stop” you yelped, voice cracking, fingers scrabbling at his forehead in a weak attempt to push him away. You couldn’t breathe, not with his breath ghosting hot over sensitive skin, not with the wet heat of his tongue so close it felt like a burn.
He didn’t stop.
Instead he parted his lips and let a thick, deliberate string of spit fall from the tip of his tongue. It landed on the tip of your cock, drawing startled gasp from you, then slid down the underside of your shaft in a slow, glistening trail, over the swell of your balls, then lower still, until it kissed the tight furl of your hole.
Your spine arched off the mattress like a bowstring pulled tight, every nerve lit up at once.
Then his mouth closed around the head.
Molten heat enveloped you. A wet, velvet suction that dragged a choked gasp from your throat. Your eyes snapped wide, fingers knotting into silver strands hard enough to make him groan around your length. He took you deeper in one smooth glide, tongue flattening along the underside, swirling lazy patterns over the sensitive ridge while his gaze never wavered.
His free hand slid lower, fingertips circling your rim in teasing strokes that made your thighs tremble. Then one finger pressed inside, breaching the resistance with steady pressure until your body yielded and swallowed him to the knuckle.
“Ah—fuck” you hissed, head slamming back against the pillows, hips canting up into the dual assault of his mouth and hand. He worked the finger in and out in shallow thrusts, curling just enough to brush that spot inside you that sent sparks racing up your spine, while his tongue smoothed relentless circles around the head still cradled between his lips.
“How are you—” Your voice fractured on a moan. “How are you so fucking good at this?”
He pulled off with a wet, obscene pop, lips shiny and swollen, hand wrapping around your base to stroke you in long, lazy pulls that kept the slick sounds echoing through the room. “I’m good at everything” he murmured, voice wrecked and smug at once, the words vibrating against your skin.
The rhythm of his hand, the filthy wet glide of spit and precum, the low groans you couldn’t hold back, it all wove together into something overwhelming, dragging you under. Without warning he worked a second finger inside, twisting them together, stretching you open with a thoroughness that bordered on clinical if it weren’t so devastatingly intimate.
“Stop—I’m gonna—” Your legs kicked uselessly, heels digging into the sheets, hands shoving weakly at his head again. “Toru, I’m gonna cum—”
He relented, barely, pulling his fingers free with torturous drag that left you clenching around nothing. He pressed one last filthy kiss to the weeping tip of your cock, tongue flicking out to lap at the slit like he was savouring every drop, before he began the crawl back up your body.
His mouth left marks in its wake, sharp bites that bloomed red across your collarbone, your pecs, the sensitive skin just below your nipple, teeth sinking in deep enough to dimple flesh and hold for a heartbeat before releasing.
When he finally settled over you again, hips slotting between your spread thighs, he braced one forearm beside your head, the other hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise.
“You’re shaking” he whispered, his forehead dropping to rest against yours, silver strands falling to curtain your faces from the dim lamplight. “Tell me you still want this. Tell me you’re not gonna disappear on me.”
The question hung there, his cock pressing hot and heavy against your entrance, not pushing in, just resting there like a promise. His eyes searched yours with an intensity that made your chest ache, like he was waiting for the moment you’d pull away and prove every fear he’d confessed right.
“Never” you whispered.
One word. Barely more than breath. But it carried everything, the ache you’d carried home, the doubt that had taunted you. You said it like a vow, like the only truth left that mattered.
And it was enough.
His mouth parted on a soft, shattered exhale. Then he pressed forward, slow at first, careful not to hurt you, the stretch blooming sharp and exquisite as your body yielded around him.
You should have been used to it by now, to the way he filled you inch by careful inch, but every time felt like the first. The burn, the fullness, the way your walls fluttered helplessly around the thick heat of him. His own breath hitched, his lips fell open, eyes going half-lidded and hazy as his gaze dropped to where you were joined, watching himself disappear inside you like he needed visual proof that this was real, that you were letting him in.
Your hands scrambled across the broad expanse of his shoulders, nails digging into sweat-slick muscle, pulling him down until his mouth crashed into yours.
Only when he was buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours, cock throbbing deep enough that you swore you could feel it in your throat, did he finally kiss you properly. Messy, devouring, stealing the air from your lungs while he held perfectly still inside you, letting you feel every pulse, every twitch.
You writhed beneath him, legs hooking around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to drag him impossibly closer. The motion ground him against that spot inside you that made white sparks explode behind your eyelids, electricity racing up your spine.
He groaned into your mouth, low and broken, then pulled back just enough for a thin string of spit to bridge your lips before his hips snapped back.
No warning.
He drove forward hard, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the small room like a crack of thunder. Your body jolted up the mattress an inch, a startled gasp tore from your throat. He dropped to his elbows, chest smothering yours, weight pinning you in place as he set a ruthless rhythm, deep, punishing strokes that rocked the headboard against the wall in time with your stuttering breaths.
Your eyes slipped shut. Hands slid from his shoulders, down the lean taper of his waist, until your fingers hooked into the firm muscle of his ass. You dug in hard, urging him deeper, faster, chasing the brutal drag of him against every sensitive inch inside you. Your cock was trapped between your bodies, slick tip sliding against the ridges of his abdomen with every thrust, the friction maddening.
“Fuck—yes” you moaned, voice fracturing. “Don’t stop—don’t—”
He growled something incoherent under his breath, then pushed up onto his hands. One palm wrapped around your throat, not tight, just firm enough to make your pulse thunder against his fingers, to make every gasp sharper, every breath a conscious effort.
You loved this version of him, the one who lost the leash on his control, who let raw want drive him until his jaw clenched so hard you half-expected his teeth to crack.
“Look at me” he rasped, each word punctuated by a particularly vicious snap of his hips. The wet clap of skin meeting skin dragged a high, needy whine from your throat. Your eyes flew open, locking onto his, glittering with something feral and tender all at once.
“Beautiful” he growled, the word scraping raw from his chest.
In one fluid motion he gripped your waist, pulled out with a slick glide that left you clenching around nothing, and flipped you onto your stomach.
You went bonelessly, pliant from the waves of pleasure already crashing through you, letting him arrange you however he wanted, chest pressed to the sheets, hips yanked high, knees spread wide. A firm slap landed on your ass, pulling a shocked yelp from your lips, before he lined up and sank back inside in one long, smooth thrust.
Deeper.
From this angle he reached places that made your vision blur, cock dragging against your walls with devastating precision, so far in you felt him in your stomach. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, your face pressed into the mattress in a futile attempt to muffle the broken sounds spilling from your mouth.
“Hold on, baby” he chuckled, dark and breathless, before he fucked into you like he was trying to carve himself permanently inside your body.
It was filthy. Debauched. Like you existed in this moment solely for him to take, to use, to wring pleasure from until there was nothing left. And god, you loved it.
“Yes—god, yes—” The words tore free, muffled against cotton, fireworks bursting behind your closed lids, toes curling so hard they cramped. He dipped low, lips finding the nape of your neck, licking, biting, marking, while one hand snaked beneath you to splay wide over your lower stomach.
The pressure hit like a shockwave.
His palm pressed down, feeling the bulge of his own cock moving inside you through the thin wall of your abdomen. The sensation was overwhelming, too much, too intimate, too raw. Your eyes rolled back, a strangled scream caught in your throat as pleasure tipped into exquisite pain.
You turned your head just enough to catch him in the corner of your vision, silver hair falling into his eyes, jaw slack, expression shattered. Any trace of control was gone, he was pure instinct now, hips snapping erratically, chasing his own release while refusing to let you slip away from him.
His other hand wrapped around your cock in messy, off-rhythm strokes that were more desperation than skill, thumb swiping over the leaking tip with every upstroke.
It was enough.
The orgasm ripped through you like thunder, sudden and violent, a full-body convulsion that arched your back and shook your thighs. You cried out, voice cracking, hips bucking wildly enough that you nearly dislodged him.
Cum spilled hot and thick over his fist, over the sheets, your whole body spasming as wave after wave crashed through you, leaving you trembling and gasping.
And still he didn’t stop. His rhythm faltered, hips stuttering, breath coming in harsh pants against your neck—but he kept driving into you, chasing the last fraying edges of his control.
With one last shuddering snap of his hips he buried himself to the hilt, balls drawn tight against your skin as a low, guttural groan tore from his throat, the kind of sound that vibrated straight up your spine and settled in your chest.
You felt him pulse inside you, thick and insistent, hot spurts of cum flooding your walls until the sensation tipped from fullness to overwhelming, making your body clench reflexively around him, milking every last drop while broken whimpers spilled from your lips.
He collapsed forward, weight sagging heavy against your back, chest heaving in ragged bursts that fanned damp heat across the nape of your neck..
You shifted, just a small roll of your hips, testing, and drew a sharp, pained groan from him. That was when you registered it, he was still hard, still buried deep, cock twitching with oversensitive aftershocks inside you. A slow, deliberate grind upward made his cum leak out around the base, warm and slick, trickling down your thighs in a lazy trickle.
“Stop” he hissed through clenched teeth, hands clamping down on your hips like iron, trying to still you. But you managed another small, teasing shift anyway, feeling the way he stretched you open again, the drag exquisite even through the sting. He sucked air sharply between his teeth. “Fuck—stop a second, I’m sensitive.”
A wicked little chuckle escaped you before you could swallow it. You did it again, moaning low in your throat as the fullness shifted inside, pressing against every oversensitive inch of your walls.
“No” you whined, pitching your voice deliberately slutty, desperate, peering back over your shoulder to catch the fractured blue of his eyes. “I need you.”
Something in his expression snapped, a visible, visceral reaction, a quick tic at the corner of his eye like a fuse burning through. His hands wrapped around your waist in a bruising grip and yanked you upright, pulling you back onto his lap in one fluid motion.
“You asked for this” he growled against the shell of your ear.
Then his arms hooked under your thighs, folding your legs back against your ribs until your knees nearly kissed your shoulders.
His hands laced behind your neck, forcing your head down so you had no choice but to watch as the thick length of him disappeared into your body again and again, obscene and hypnotic, your own cock slapping wetly against your stomach with every punishing upward snap of his hips.
A strangled yelp tore from your throat. The angle was brutal, deeper than before, every thrust grinding against that spot inside you until sparks danced behind your eyes. You tried to squirm, to ease the intensity, but his hold was absolute.
“Wait—Toru—” The words fractured into a whine.
His fingers unlocked from behind your neck, allowing your head to slump back against his shoulder. You turned instinctively, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along the line of his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, anywhere you could reach.
“I saw you with him” he gasped, voice cracking, eyes glassy and distant even as his hips kept driving up into you. “I thought… I thought you were gonna leave me.”
“Ngh—” The sound punched out of you, thunder building in your blood, ready to crack. “Please… Toru…”
“I can’t lose you.” The confession came out ragged, almost a sob, his thrusts turning harder, faster, one hand sliding to your hip to drag you down onto him with every stroke. Your thoughts scattered like ash, your body went limp in his grip, one hand anchored desperately to his waist, feeling the muscles bunch and release beneath your palm.
“You—you won’t” you whimpered, staring up at the ceiling in a daze, pleasure coiling so tight it hurt. “I’m going nowhere… I’ll never leave you… I-I—” The world split open. A white haze swallowed everything as your release crashed through you, back arching violently off his chest, thighs shaking, a broken cry ripping free. “I love you!”
“Shit—” He hissed the word like a prayer, flipping you prone again in one rough motion, pressing you flat into the sheets. He moulded himself to your back, thigh to thigh, chest to spine, lips at your ear, tongue flicking out to wet the skin there in a slow, possessive drag. “Fuck, Y/N… I love you too.”
The words tipped him over. He drove deep one last time and spilled again, hot and pulsing. His hips didn’t stop, he kept rocking into you through the aftershocks, a stream of filthy, broken groans spilling against your neck until, finally, he stilled.
With a shuddering exhale he pulled free, cum slipping warm and thick from your body as he slumped beside you, half-draped over your back like he couldn’t bear even that small distance.
And suddenly, everything felt right.
His weight anchoring you to the mattress. Warm breath ghosting over your shoulder. Silver strands tickling the nape of your neck. His hands, gentle now, tracing slow, soothing circles into the dip of your lower back.
You turned your head against the sheets, cheek pressed to cotton that now smelled faintly of him. His eyes were closed, lips parted on uneven breaths, cheeks flushed a deeper red than you’d ever seen, the colour bleeding down his throat. You lifted a trembling hand, fingers brushing his cheek, pushing damp strands of hair from his forehead.
His lashes fluttered. Those impossible blue eyes opened, finding you instantly, softening in a way that made your heart clench so hard it stole your breath. The realisation hit you all at once, sharp and sweet and overwhelming. You were madly in love with him. And he, with all his light, and all his fears, and his football field-sized bravado, was madly in love with you.
A hysterical little giggle bubbled up from your chest before you could stop it.
He blinked, happy and bemused at once. “What?”
“I just… love you so much.”
His eyes lit up, like you’d handed him the entire sky. A beautiful, lopsided smile split his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Stop” he whined, suddenly burying his face in the sheets, but not before you caught the fresh pink flush climbing his ears, spreading down his neck in a wave he couldn’t hide.
You chuckled softly, leaning closer until your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “I love you.”
He flinched, a small, helpless sound escaping him.
“I love you.”
“Stop—” The word cracked into laughter, but he couldn’t quite manage it. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest in a tangle of limbs, but you didn’t stop.
“I love you” you whispered again and again, between every kiss pressed to his jaw, his collarbone, the hollow of his throat, until the words blurred into a mantra and his laughter shook the bed beneath you both.
“Shit” he huffed finally, breathless, head dropping back against the pillow, eyes fixed on the ceiling with a soft, contented smile curving his lips. “I love you too. Now stop, before I turn into complete mush.”
“Okay.” You lifted your head just enough to rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes. “Love you though.”
He let out a pained groan, all dramatic and theatrical, but the smile never left his face. “Love you too”
You settled your cheek against the steady thump of his heart, arms wrapping around his waist so tightly you weren’t sure you’d ever let him go.
And that's it folks! I hope you enjoyed! Sorry it was so long, got carried away 🤤.
Btw, don't steal or feed into AI, I don't want that clanker copying my shit!
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Summary: You and Aizawa adopted Eri together after the war and this is just a glimpse into your life with them!
Warning: mild smut-ish
(A/N: I’m really trying to figure out my writing style still but I think I want to start taking request so feel free to send them!)
⸻
The sunlight shined faintly through the curtains, Aizawa woke not to the sound of his alarm, but to warmth, the gentle warmth of you cuddling him.
“Mm,” he muttered, still half-asleep.
You wake up smiling and looking at him before leaning over to kiss him. Your lips brushed his forehead, then his cheek, then his jawline. Your kisses trailed everywhere, light and playful, trying to fully wake him up.
“Wake up, Sho,” you whispered, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth.
His eyes cracked open, and for a second he just looked at you . You hair was a little wild, your smile sleepy but genuine. He felt something settle in his chest…a type of longing he couldn’t believe he had denied himself for so long. A slow smile tugged at his lips, rare but genuine.
“You’re relentless y’know,” he rasped.
“That’s why you love you me!” You practically sang.
You leaned in to steal another kiss, but he caught you this time, rolling toward you. He deepened the kiss. His hand slid over your hip, over the curve of you, your body moved instinctively closer. Your breath caught when his fingers brushed the waistband of your pajama pants, his hand slipped in. He kissed your lips then jawline then neck as he pressed his fingers to your clothed clit. You gasped and he smiled as he started to move his fingers in small slow circles, your hips start to rock back and forth slowly. He came back to your lips kissing you harder and a bit sloppy, in that moment your hand slipped down to his underwear and your hand ran back and forth on his hardening dick. He let out a muffled groaned as he started to move his fingers faster in smaller tighter circles. The world outside didn’t exist. As things started to heat up, he started to move your panties to the side and pressed one rough finger to your very wet clit. You moan and reach to push his underwear down. You smile enjoying the moment, just the two of you, finally unburdened, finally allowed to want.
Then the door creaked open.
Both of you froze and immediately broke apart.
“Papa…?” Eri’s small, sleepy voice filled the room as she rubbed her eyes. “I heard something.”
You practically leapt out of bed, your cheeks flushed, your hair an even bigger mess.
“Good morning, Eri!” you said in a tone so bright and a bit fake. You scooped her into your arms, spinning slightly as if that had been the plan all along.
Eri rested her head on your shoulder with a soft yawn. “Morning…”
Shota sank back against the pillows, dragging a hand down his face. His body betrayed him still, he glanced downward and groaned inwardly as his boner was not going away. You know why even though he was under the comforter , your eyes darting quickly to him, the comforter and then, you laughed. A real laugh. Deep, unrestrained, genuine.
“What’s so funny?” Eri asked curiously, lifting her head.
You pressed your forehead to Eri’s, masking your grin.
“I’m just so happy,” you said, voice warm. Then you tickled Eri’s sides, earning a burst of giggles.
“ahh!” Eri squealed, wriggling in your arms.
You kissed her cheek and carried her out toward the kitchen.
“Come on, sweetheart, how about pancakes? Chocolate chip ones..American style. Didn’t you say you liked mine more than papa’s?”
“Yes!” Eri cheered, suddenly much more awake. The sound of their laughter trailed down the hall, leaving Aizawa alone.For a long moment, he didn’t move. He stared at the ceiling, his body heavy with fatigue and something else. The way you looked at him like nothing about him was broken. He’d given so much of himself to hero work, to his students, to survival, to Eri’s safety, that he’d forgotten what it felt like to be wanted and to want.
This is what I want. Them. This life. Even in the chaos, even with scars and missing pieces. I want to wake up to them every day.
Finally, with a sigh, he pushed himself upright. His prosthetic leaned against the bedside, and he took his time fitting it before pulling on a fresh shirt and pajama bottoms. He moved slower these days, but for once, it didn’t bother him.
By the time he made it to the kitchen, the smell of butter and chocolate filled the air. You were at the stove, hair tied up messily, flipping a pancake with one hand while Eri sat at the counter, eagerly mixing more batter. The little girl’s face was smudged with flour, and you were smiling down at her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Aizawa paused in the doorway, watching you both. Something loving, protective, and tender stirred in him.
“Papa!” Eri spotted him and waved.
“Morning,” he rumbled, crossing over to them. He reached out, squeezing Eri’s shoulder gently before pressing a kiss to her head. Then, wordlessly, he moved to the counter and started the coffee machine.
You glanced at him over your shoulder, your smile softening into something private, something just for him. He came up and hugged you from behind fully resting on you. And in that simple, ordinary moment, pancakes on the stove, Eri giggling with flour on her nose, the sound of coffee brewing…Shota Aizawa knew.
"You think you deserve absolution?" Sullyoon asks, and despite herself, you see fascination flicker behind the anger. "You're guilty, and guilty men beg. But you're not begging - you’re bargaining.”
_____
It took a long time, but you're finally putting the finishing touches on everything, adjusting the wine bottles on the counter and making sure the takeout containers from that Italian place Haewon loves are arranged nicely on the dining table. The apartment looks decent enough, you think, scanning the living room one more time. Clean dishes, no random socks on the floor, a little different from the usual mess, for a change. You're actually kind of nervous, which is weird because you're usually pretty smooth about this stuff. But there's something about Haewon that gets under your skin in a way you didn't expect three months ago when you first started seeing her.
Funny how that worked out.
You never thought you'd be this into someone like her. She's clumsy as hell, trips over her own feet half the time, makes these ridiculous faces when she's thinking too hard about something. Not your usual type at all. But she's got this energy that just pulls you in, this dorky enthusiasm that makes everything feel lighter somehow. You catch yourself smiling just thinking about the way she laughs at her own jokes before she even finishes telling them, or how she gets all flustered when you tease her. Yeah, you actually like her. More than you probably should, considering the whole situation you are involved in.
The doorbell rings. You head to the door, straightening your clothes and checking your breath one more time before pulling it open with what you hope is your usual confident grin. Haewon's standing there, and fuck, she looks like the exact kind of trouble your professors warned you about. White cropped cardigan over a pastel tank top, high-waisted jeans hugging her legs, sneakers that somehow already look worn from the way she rushes everywhere. Her soft dark hair frames her round cheeks perfectly, bangs falling just slightly over her eyebrows, making her already warm brown eyes even bigger, reflective, almost like she's always been caught doing something. She has this sheepish, dorky prettiness that feels as if she wandered straight out of some dreamy slice-of-life movie. Beautiful, but approachable.
But this time she isn't smiling. Her lips are pressed together, not in that cute pout she does when she's pretending to be annoyed with you, but in actual tension. Those big eyes of hers, usually sparkling with whatever emotion is running through her head, look almost worried.
"Hey," you start, your smile faltering just a bit. "You okay?"
But before she can answer, before you can even process what's happening, someone else steps out from behind the wall next to your door. Your entire body goes cold. Sullyoon. Holy shit. Holy actual shit.
She's standing there like some kind of avenging angel, and you're struck again by just how stupidly gorgeous she is. Sullyoon's always been the kind of beautiful that doesn't seem entirely fair to everyone else. Her face is almost ethereal, these delicate features that somehow manage to be both soft and striking at the same time. High cheekbones, a nose that's perfectly straight, lips that are full and naturally pouty even when she's not trying. But it's her eyes that really get you, almond-shaped and intense, currently boring into you with an expression that promises violence. Casual as her outfit is (oversized cream sweater with a pleated skirt and boots that make her legs look endless), she almost always has that expression of someone who is dealing with official business (the business of ending your life, probably).
"We need to talk."
You can barely hear what she said, your ears are ringing, and you realize you're still just standing there in the doorway like an idiot, your brain trying desperately to catch up with this absolute nightmare scenario that's unfolding in real time.
"This is an unexpected surprise," you manage, trying to inject some of your usual easy confidence. You step back, gesturing for them to come in because what else are you going to do, slam the door in their faces? That's not going to make this any better.
They walk in, Haewon first, her steps small and hesitant, followed by Sullyoon who moves like she owns the place. The contrast between them is almost painful to watch. Haewon's shoulders are hunched slightly, her hands fidgeting with the strap of her bag, while Sullyoon stands tall and rigid, her arms crossed over her chest. You close the door behind them.
"Look, I know this seems bad," you start, already shifting into lawyer mode because that's what you do when things get complicated. "But there's a completely plausible justification for this whole thing if you'd just let me explain."
"That's such bullshit."
Sullyoon's words are clipped, precise. She's not yelling, which somehow makes it worse. There's this controlled anger radiating off her that makes you think of a pot about to boil over.
"Sullyoon, come on, just hear me out for a second. I can explain everything if you'd just give me a chance to—"
"Explain?" She cuts you off, taking a step closer. "You're going to explain what, exactly? How you're a worthless scoundrel who's been playing both of us? How you thought you could just keep us both around and we'd never figure it out?"
"That's not what I was thinking." You hold up your hands in a placating gesture, trying to keep your voice level and reasonable even though panic is starting to creep up your spine. "You're jumping to conclusions here."
"I'm jumping to exactly the right conclusion." Her eyes flash. "You've been seeing both of us. Both of us. Like we're just some kind of game to you."
You let out a long breath, running a hand over your face. This is bad. This is really bad. Your mind is racing, trying to figure out the best angle here, the right words to defuse this situation before it completely explodes. You look between them, Sullyoon with her righteous fury and Haewon who looks like she might cry or bolt at any second.
"Okay, first of all," you say, trying to buy yourself some time to think. "How do you two even know each other? I mean, what are the odds that—"
"We're friends."
Haewon's voice is small, almost non-existent, and she won't meet your eyes when she says it. She's looking down at her feet, her fingers still worrying at her bag strap.
"Friends," you repeat. "You're friends. Of course you are. Because why wouldn't you be? That would be too convenient for me, wouldn't it?"
"Don't try to deflect," Sullyoon snaps. "It doesn't matter how we know each other. What matters is that you've been lying to both of us this entire time."
"Lying is a strong word." You're fully in defense mode now, your lawyer brain kicking into high gear even though you know you're standing on pretty shaky ground here. "I prefer to think of it as withholding certain information for an indefinite period of time. Technically speaking, I never actually lied about anything."
"Are you seriously trying to lawyer your way out of this right now?" Sullyoon looks at you with tremendous indignation. "You're not even a real lawyer, you're still in school! And you think semantics are going to save you here?"
"Hey, I'm a law student, which basically makes me a lawyer," you shoot back, unable to help yourself even though you know this is probably not the time for your usual schtick. "It's just a matter of a few exams and a piece of paper at this point. The knowledge is all there."
"Oh my god." Sullyoon actually laughs, but there's no humor in it. "This is unbelievable. You're actually doubling down on being an asshole right now."
Haewon makes this small noise, something between a whimper and a sigh, and you want to go to her, to explain, but Sullyoon is standing between you like a wall. You can see Haewon's eyes getting shiny with unshed tears. She's wearing this expression you've never seen on her before, this combination of hurt and confusion and something that might be hope, like she's still waiting for you to somehow make this okay.
"You're worthless," Sullyoon says. "There's no way you're getting away with this. You know that, right? You can't just charm your way out of what you did."
"But it's true!" you insist, and you can hear the desperation creeping into your own voice now. You hate how it sounds, but fuck it, you're in too deep to care about pride at this point. "Look, I know how this looks, but it just happened. It wasn't some master plan to screw you both over. One thing led to another and suddenly I was in the middle of this mess and I didn't know how to unfuck it."
Sullyoon’s not buying it, you can tell. The skepticism is written all over that perfect face, along with the anger and hurt that she's trying so hard to keep contained. You've seen her like this before, that time some asshole at a bar wouldn't leave her alone and she dressed him down with such cold precision that he practically ran away. But that fury was never directed at you before.
"I've been thinking about telling you both," you continue. "I swear to god, I have. This has been eating at me for weeks now. Every time I was with one of you, I'd think about the other, and I knew I was being a shit, I knew it wasn't fair, but I just kept putting it off because I didn't want to lose either of you."
"So you thought lying was the better option?" Sullyoon's voice rises slightly. "You thought keeping us in the dark was somehow better than being honest?"
"I didn't lie," you argue. "I just didn't tell you the whole truth. There's a difference."
"Oh, for fuck's sake." She throws her hands up. "There you go again with the lawyer bullshit. You didn't tell us you were seeing other people. That's lying by omission, which is still lying, you asshole."
You want to argue, want to find some technical loophole in her logic, but she's right and you know it. So instead you shift tactics, because that's what you do. You pivot. You look at Sullyoon, taking in the way her hands are clenched into fists at her sides.
"What I felt for you or Haewon wasn't fake. Sullyoon, you remember that night two months ago? When you came over after that disaster at work and you just completely broke down? You never let anyone see you like that, but you let me in. You cried on my shoulder for hours and told me everything about how scared you were that you weren't good enough, that you'd fail. And I held you and I listened and I meant every single thing I said to you that night. That wasn't fake. That wasn't some act."
Something flickers across her face and you know you've hit something real. She remembers. Of course she remembers. That was the night things shifted between you two, when it became more than just casual dating and started feeling like something that mattered. Then you turn to Haewon, who's still standing there looking like she wants to disappear into the floor. Her eyes are red now, tears threatening to spill over, and it makes your chest ache. She's chewing on her bottom lip, this nervous habit she has when she's trying not to cry, and you want to go to her, to pull her into your arms like you've done so many times before.
"And Haewon," you say, softer now. "That day you called me at three in the morning because you couldn't sleep, because your anxiety was through the roof and you felt like you were drowning? I drove across town in the middle of the night to be with you. I sat with you until the sun came up, talking about nothing and everything, making stupid jokes until you finally smiled again. I held your hand and told you that you weren't alone, that you were so much stronger than you thought you were. That wasn't fake either. None of it was fake."
Haewon's face crumples and a tear finally escapes, trailing down her cheek. She wipes at it quickly, almost angry at herself for showing that vulnerability in front of Sullyoon, but you saw it. You always see it with her, every little emotion that crosses her face like she's an open book.
"That's exactly why I'm so angry!" Sullyoon exclaims. "That's what makes this so much worse. Because I actually liked you. I really fucking liked you. I thought what we had was real, that it was going somewhere. I don't do this, I don't let people in like that, and you made me feel like maybe I could. Like maybe you were different."
"It IS real," you say, and you mean it with everything in you. "Sullyoon, it is real. What we have, what I have with both of you, it's all real. Maybe this doesn't have to be the end. Maybe we can figure something out."
She stares at you like you've just suggested something completely insane. (Which, fair, you kind of have.) But you're grasping at straws here, trying to find any angle that might save this situation from completely imploding.
"I know I wasn't honest," you continue, taking a step toward them. "I know I should have told you both from the start, or at least earlier than this. And I'm sorry for that, I really am. But I swear on everything that I wanted to tell you. I was working up to it, trying to figure out how to do it without losing you both, because the thought of losing either of you makes me feel sick."
"You should have thought about that before you decided to be a cheating piece of shit," Sullyoon snaps, but she's wavering, you can tell. She wants to stay angry, wants to hold onto that righteous fury, but you're getting through to her. Just a little.
"Please," you say, and you hate how the word sounds, how much you mean it. "Just sit down and talk with me. Give me a chance to explain everything, to lay it all out. If you still want to walk away after that, fine. I won't try to stop you. But at least hear me out first."
Sullyoon shakes her head, her mouth set in a hard line. She's made her decision, and it's written all over her face. This is done. You're done. She turns away from you, heading toward the door.
"Haewon, let's go," she says. "We're leaving." But Haewon doesn't move. She's rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on you with this expression that's equal parts pain and longing. You can see the war happening inside her, the way she's torn between following her friend and staying with you. Her hands are trembling slightly, and she hugs her arms around herself like she's trying to hold herself together.
"Haewon," Sullyoon repeats, sharper this time. She's at the door now, her hand on the knob, waiting. "Come on. We're done here."
"Maybe," Haewon starts, so quiet you almost don't hear it. She clears her throat, speaking a little louder. "Maybe we should listen to what he has to say."
Sullyoon whips around, her eyes wide. "Are you kidding me right now? After everything he just admitted to? After he lied to both of us for months?"
"I know, I know it's bad," Haewon says, and she's wringing her hands now. "I know he messed up. But maybe there's an explanation, maybe if we just talk about it—"
"There's no explanation that makes this okay!" Sullyoon's voice rises, genuine shock coloring her anger now. "Haewon, what are you doing? Don't tell me you're actually considering forgiving him for this."
Haewon's face flushes, embarrassment and frustration mixing together. She looks at you, then at Sullyoon, then back at you again. Her eyes are pleading, desperate, and you can see how much this is costing her to speak up.
"I liked you!" The words burst out of her, louder than you've ever heard her speak. "I liked you so much. I was falling in love with you, okay? I was making plans in my head, stupid plans about the future and what it would be like to actually be with someone who got me. Who made me feel like I wasn't too much or too weird or too anything!"
Her voice cracks on the last word and more tears spill over. She's shaking now, her whole body trembling with everything she's been holding in. You've never seen her like this, so raw and exposed, and it breaks something in you.
"I thought this time it would be real," she continues, her words coming out in this rush like if she doesn't say them now she never will. "I thought you actually cared about me, not just the fun parts but all of me. The anxious mess parts, the parts that wake up at three in the morning convinced everything is falling apart. And you did care, didn't you? That wasn't fake, what you just said about that night. I know it wasn't."
You move before you can think about it, crossing the space between you and taking her hand. Her fingers are cold and she flinches slightly at the contact, but she doesn't pull away. You squeeze gently, trying to convey everything you can't quite put into words yet. "Let me explain," you say, looking into those watery eyes. "Please, Haewon. Let me explain everything.”
"Don't do this, Haewon," Sullyoon says, plea above anger. "You're going to regret it if you listen to him."
"Just listen to what I have to say," you tell Sullyoon, meeting her eyes with as much sincerity as you can muster. Because here's the thing about you that people don't always get: beneath all the smooth talking and the charm, you actually do give a shit. You're not some heartless player, even if you've managed to land yourself in the middle of a situation that makes you look exactly like that. "After that, you can leave. Hell, you can slap me across the face if you want. I'll stand here and take it."
Sullyoon studies you for a long moment. You know her; she's weighing her options, deciding whether giving you this chance is going to be worth it or if it's just going to make everything worse. Finally, she sighs and walks back toward you and Haewon. She leans in close to her, so close that her lips are practically brushing Haewon's ear, and whispers something you can't quite make out. Whatever it is makes Haewon's eyes widen slightly, and she gives this tiny nod. You're dying to know what was said, what agreement they just made without you, but you're smart enough not to push it right now.
"Fine," Sullyoon says, straightening up. "We'll listen. But this better be good."
The three of you move to the couch, and it's awkward as hell trying to figure out the seating arrangement. You end up in the middle because of course you do, with Sullyoon on your right sitting as far away as the cushions will allow, and Haewon on your left close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off her. You're trying to figure out the best way to start this conversation that might just save your ass or completely destroy any remaining goodwill you have left.
"First," you say, ‘cause you need to understand the full scope of what you're dealing with here, "how did you two even figure this out? What gave me away?"
Sullyoon leans back against the couch, crossing her legs and fixing you with that intense stare of hers. Even pissed off and hurt, she's stupidly gorgeous, and you're momentarily distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulder, catching the light. Focus, you tell yourself. This is not the time.
"Cigarette butts," she says simply.
"What?" You didn't get it.
"I was at Haewon's place last week," Sullyoon explains, “helping her clean up after that disaster of a party she threw. And I was taking out the trash when I noticed cigarette butts in the bin. Haewon doesn't smoke. She never has." She pauses, letting that sink in, and you're already seeing where this is going. Fuck. "So I asked her about it," Sullyoon continues. "And she got all flustered and said it was from the guy she was seeing. That he'd been over and smoked on her balcony." She turns to look at Haewon, who's staring down at her hands. "And I thought it was funny because the guy I was seeing smokes too. Which I hate, by the way. It's a disgusting habit and I've told you multiple times you need to quit."
"Noted," you mutter.
"Then Haewon got all excited. She wanted to show me a picture of her boyfriend. Well, not boyfriend exactly, but the guy she was getting serious with. The one who made her smile like an idiot every time her phone went off."
Haewon makes this small wounded sound, and you want to reach for her hand again but you're not sure if that's allowed right now. Instead you just sit there, waiting for Sullyoon to continue, even though you already know how this story ends.
"So she pulled up this photo on her phone," Sullyoon says. "Her and this guy at some coffee shop, his arm around her shoulders, both of them grinning at the camera. And I just froze. Because it was you. This smug asshole sitting right here was the guy Haewon had been gushing about for weeks. The same guy who'd been in my bed three nights before that."
You should have known, honestly. You smoke too much, you're too careless, and you definitely should have been more careful about where you left your cigarette butts. Rookie mistake, really. You're better than this.
"I should have quit smoking," you say, and you're trying for levity here, trying to break some of the tension, but it falls flat.
"It's not the fucking cigarette's fault," Sullyoon snaps. "Don't try to deflect. This is on you."
"I know," you say, and now it's time for you to actually explain, to lay it all out and hope that your natural persuasiveness can work some magic here. "I know it is. Look, when I started seeing you, Sullyoon, Haewon and I weren't serious yet. We'd been on a couple dates, sure, but it was casual. Nothing exclusive had been discussed. So when you and I met at that gallery opening and you gave me your number, there was no reason for us not to hook up."
Sullyoon maintains the same serious expression, but she doesn't interrupt, which you're taking as a good sign.
"And then things just escalated," you continue, spreading your hands in this helpless gesture. "With both of you. Faster than I expected. One week I'm taking Haewon to this indie movie she wanted to see, the next I'm staying up all night talking with you about philosophy and art and everything in between. Both of you just pulled me in, and before I knew it, I was in deep with both of you and I didn't know how to navigate it."
"You could have been honest," Sullyoon says. "That's how you navigate it. You tell the truth."
"I know that now," you say, and it is true. "I know I should have said something earlier. But every time I thought about it, I chickened out because I didn't want to lose either of you. And I know how selfish that sounds, I do. But it's the truth."
Haewon finally looks up at you, her eyes still red and watery, and you can see she's actually listening. She wants to believe you, wants there to be a way through this mess. Sullyoon is harder to read, still guarded, but she hasn't left yet. That's something.
And this is where you're going to either completely fuck this up or pull off something that shouldn't be possible. Because you're about to suggest something that most people would think is insane, but you've always been good at making insane sound reasonable. It's one of your better talents, honestly, even if it does get you into trouble sometimes. Like now.
"What if," you say slowly, carefully, "this doesn't have to be the end? What if it could be the beginning of something different?"
Sullyoon's eyes narrow.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm saying maybe this is actually a good thing," you continue, and you're warming up now, getting into your rhythm. This is what you do, what you're good at. You can talk your way into or out of anything if you just find the right angle. "No more secrets, no more sneaking around. Everything's out in the open now. What if instead of choosing, we just don't? What if I stay with both of you?"
As you expected: Haewon looks confused, like she's not sure she heard you correctly. Sullyoon looks like she's deciding between laughing in your face or actually killing you with her bare hands.
"You cannot be serious right now," Sullyoon says, dangerously quiet. "You actually think we're going to agree to share you? You want to have your cake and eat it too, is that it? You just want to take advantage of this situation so you can have sex with both of us at the same time. You're a damn fetishist. Typical fucking man."
"It's not like that," you argue, (and okay, maybe it is a little bit like that, but it's also more than that). "Look, my heart is just too big, alright? I can love you both equally. I do love you both. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. Why should I have to choose when I care about both of you this much?"
"I should stab you," Sullyoon says flatly. "I should actually just stab you right now and be done with it."
"I always thought you were a pacifist," you reply, and there's that little smirk tugging at your lips because you can't help yourself.
"I'm reconsidering my stance on violence," she shoots back.
But here's the thing, and you know this about yourself: you're annoyingly persistent when you want something. And right now you want this to work, not just because the sex is good with both of them, though let's be real, it definitely is, but because you genuinely care about these two women sitting on either side of you.
You don't want to lose either of them.
"Think about it," you say, leaning forward slightly. "We don't have to be stuck in society's concepts of what a relationship should look like. Why do we have to follow these arbitrary rules that say you can only love one person at a time? Who decided that? Who said that's the only way to do things?"
"Literally everyone," Sullyoon says. "Society. Culture. Common sense."
"Fuck common sense," you counter. "Common sense is boring. Common sense is for people who are afraid to try something different. This could be the beginning of something new and beautiful. Something that actually works for all three of us."
You can see Haewon's expression shifting, this little spark of curiosity lighting up in her eyes. She's actually considering it, turning the idea over in her mind. Sullyoon notices too, and she looks at her friend with something like disbelief.
"The three of us together," you continue, pressing your advantage because you can feel the momentum shifting. "No more lies, no more hiding. Everything out in the open. You two are already friends, you already care about each other. And I care about both of you. Why not make it work?"
"Because it's insane," Sullyoon argues. "Because relationships don't work like that. Someone always gets hurt, someone always ends up feeling left out or jealous or—"
"Not if we communicate," you interrupt. "Not if we're honest with each other from here on out. I know I fucked up by not being upfront from the beginning, but we can start fresh. New rules, new dynamic. All three of us in this together."
Haewon is chewing on her bottom lip again, and you know that look. She's seriously thinking about it. Because for all her insecurity and anxiety, Haewon is also weirdly open-minded about stuff like this.
"I don't know," she says quietly. "It sounds complicated."
"Everything worth doing is complicated," you say, and you finally do reach for her hand this time, lacing your fingers through hers. She doesn't pull away. "But I think we could make it work. I really do."
Sullyoon is watching this exchange with her arms crossed, and you can practically see the war happening behind her eyes. Part of her wants to walk out right now, to tell you both to go to hell and never look back. But another part, the part that actually does care about you despite everything, is intrigued. You know her well enough by now to read the signs.
"You're unbelievable," she says, sighing. "You fuck up spectacularly, and somehow you're trying to spin it into this grand romantic gesture. Like we should be grateful you're graciously allowing us both to date you."
"That's not what I'm saying," you argue. "I'm saying we could all date each other. Equal partnership. No hierarchy, no one person getting more attention than the others. We figure it out together as we go."
"And what happens when it falls apart?" Sullyoon challenges. "When the jealousy kicks in and someone feels neglected? When Haewon and I end up resenting each other because we're competing for your attention?"
"Then we deal with it like adults," you say. "We talk about it. We work through it. The same way any relationship deals with problems.”
Sullyoon turns to Haewon, and she's not just mad at you anymore, she's genuinely worried about her friend, afraid that perhaps you might corrupt Mrs. Sunshine with your diabolical ideas.
"Haewon, please don't tell me you're actually buying this," Sullyoon says, “he's clearly trying to take advantage of both of us. Can't you see that? He's using pretty words and that stupid charming smile to manipulate us into accepting something completely fucked up."
Haewon's hand tightens in yours, and you can feel the tremor running through her fingers. She's scared, you realize, not of you but of making the wrong choice. Of losing something, whether it's you or Sullyoon or maybe both. Her eyes dart between you and her friend, and you can practically see the thoughts racing behind them, trying to process everything that's happening too fast.
"It's easy for you," Haewon says quietly, and you've never heard her talk like that. Not quite bitter, but getting there. "It's easy for you to just walk away from this, from him. You're Sullyoon. You're gorgeous and confident and guys throw themselves at you everywhere you go. You could have anyone you want."
"That's not the point," Sullyoon starts, but Haewon cuts her off.
"I'm not like that," Haewon continues, and her voice is getting stronger now, more certain. "I'm not the girl guys notice first. I'm awkward and I say stupid things and I trip over nothing. Do you know how long it's been since someone actually looked at me the way he does? Like I'm not just some weird girl who laughs too loud at her own jokes?"
You watch this unfold and you know you should probably say something, but you also know that this is between them right now. This is Haewon standing up for herself in a way she usually doesn't, and interrupting would be the worst possible move. So you keep your mouth shut, which is honestly a miracle for you, and you just hold her hand and wait.
"Haewon, don't do this," Sullyoon pleads, and now she's reaching for her friend's other hand, trying to create a physical connection that might counterbalance yours. "Don't humiliate yourself for him. You're worth so much more than being someone's second choice, someone he only keeps around because he can't decide between us."
"I'm not humiliating myself," Haewon says. She's always been so unsure of herself, so quick to apologize for taking up space, and seeing her fight for something she wants is fucking attractive. You would kiss her right now if you could. "I like him. And I think he likes me too. Really likes me, not just because I'm convenient or easy or whatever else you're thinking." She looks at you when she says that last part, and there's a question in her eyes. A plea, maybe, for you to confirm what she's saying, to back her up. And hell yes you're going to back her up because she's absolutely right.
"I do like you," you say, squeezing her hand. "More than like you, if we're being honest here."
Sullyoon makes this frustrated sound and releases Haewon's hand to run her fingers through her hair. She's agitated now, pacing would probably help but the couch doesn't give her that option, so instead she's just radiating this restless energy like an unstable nuclear reactor.
"This is insane," Sullyoon says again, like if she repeats it enough times it'll somehow make Haewon see reason. "You're really going to tell me you're okay with sharing him? With being part of some weird love triangle arrangement where you never know if you're actually enough for him?"
"No," Haewon says, and for a second your heart drops because you think she's changing her mind. But then she continues. "I'm not trading anyone for anyone. You're still my friend, Sullyoon. You're still my best friend. That doesn't change just because of this."
"And what about him?" Sullyoon gestures at you, and you're trying to look as nonthreatening as possible, which is hard when you're sitting between them like the world's most controversial prize. "He's just the guy you like? The guy who's been lying to you for months?"
"He's the guy who lied, yes," Haewon admits, and you wince because hearing it said so plainly fucking hurts even if it's true. "But he's also the guy who drove across the city at three in the morning because I was having a panic attack. He's the guy who remembered that I hate cilantro and always orders my food without it. He's the guy who listens when I ramble about my day even when it's boring as hell."
She's crying again, you notice, but these tears are different from before. Not devastated, just overwhelmed. Her free hand comes up to wipe at her cheeks, and she lets out this shaky laugh that's so perfectly Haewon.
"Those moments were real," she says, looking at Sullyoon with wet eyes. "I know they were. And I think you know your moments with him were real too. You felt it, didn't you? That connection, that feeling like maybe this person actually gets you in a way most people don't?"
Sullyoon's face twitches, a thousand emotions flickering across it too fast to name. Her mouth opens, closes, opens again. You can see her fighting with herself, trying to hold onto her anger because it's safer than admitting Haewon might be right.
"Maybe I felt it," Sullyoon finally says. "Maybe I did. But that doesn't mean I have to forgive him. That doesn't mean I have to be okay with this completely fucked up situation he's created."
"No one's saying you have to forgive him right now," Haewon says, and she's being so much braver than you've ever seen her. "No one's saying you have to decide anything right this second. I'm just saying maybe we shouldn't make a decision while we're all angry and hurt and confused."
Sullyoon looks at her friend, and you can see the moment something shifts. Not acceptance, not yet, but maybe the beginning of consideration. The rigid set of her shoulders loosens just slightly, and she slumps back against the couch cushions.
"I can't believe you're defending him.”
"I'm not defending what he did," Haewon clarifies. "I'm just saying I understand why he did it. And I think if you're honest with yourself, you understand too."
Ok, this is getting too intense, too sad, and that's never been your style. When things get heavy, you deflect. It's what you do best, honestly. Humor and irreverence are your weapons of choice, even when maybe they shouldn't be.
"You know what the problem is with you, Sullyoon?" you say, and you can't help the little smirk that tugs at your lips even though you know it's probably going to piss her off. "You think too much. You're always so serious about everything. It's exhausting just watching you process all this drama."
Her head snaps toward you so fast you're surprised she doesn't get whiplash. "Excuse me?"
"I'm just saying," you continue, because apparently you have a death wish, "all this heaviness isn't good for you. You're going to give yourself an ulcer with all the overthinking."
"You cheated on me!" Sullyoon's voice rises to an actual scream, and you can see the way her hands clench into fists. If she does decide to hit you, it's going to hurt. "You were seeing me and Haewon at the same time, lying to both of us, and you have the audacity to tell me I'm being too dramatic?"
"Well technically," you say, holding up one finger in that annoying way you know drives people crazy, "you weren't my girlfriend. So the word 'cheating' doesn't really apply here. It's more like I was casually seeing two people who hadn't explicitly asked for exclusivity."
The look on Sullyoon's face is almost comical. Her mouth falls open, and you can practically see the rage and hurt warring behind those stunning eyes. You know that was a low blow, throwing the technicality in her face, but it's also true. And truth, however inconvenient, is your specialty.
"That's..." she starts, and then stops, because what can she say? You're right, even if being right makes you an asshole. "That's such bullshit."
"Is it though?" you challenge. "We never had the 'what are we' conversation. Neither of us put a label on it."
"Because I was waiting for you to bring it up!" Sullyoon's voice cracks, and fuck, that hurts more than you expected. "I was waiting for you to ask me to be your girlfriend because I wanted you to. Because I thought you wanted it too."
And there it is. The real wound beneath all the anger. She wanted to be yours, officially, and you knew that. You could feel it in the way she looked at you, the way she'd linger in the mornings before leaving your apartment, like she was hoping you'd ask her to stay longer. To stay forever, maybe.
"I did want it," you admit, more serious. "I did want you to be my girlfriend, Sullyoon. Just as much as I wanted Haewon to be my girlfriend too."
Sullyoon sighs, overwhelmed, and turns away from you, but you're not done. You're on a roll now, and when you get going there's no stopping you. It's both your best and worst quality, this inability to know when to shut the fuck up.
"You know what's funny?" you say, and you're leaning forward now, your elbows on your knees. "I used to catch myself thinking about how cool it would be if you two met each other. Like, I'd be with Haewon and she'd say something dorky and cute, and I'd think 'God, Sullyoon would love this.' Or I'd be with you, Sullyoon, and you'd make one of your sharp observations about something, and I'd think 'Haewon would crack up at that.'" Both of them are looking at you now, Haewon with curiosity and Sullyoon with suspicion, and you keep going because this is actually true. You really did think about this, more than you probably should have.
"I had this whole fantasy in my head," you continue, gesturing with your hands like you're painting a picture in the air. "The three of us going out together. Getting drinks, going to that art gallery opening Sullyoon loves, or that arcade Haewon's been wanting to check out. I just knew you'd get along. I could feel it. The way you both laugh at stupid shit, the way you're both way smarter than you give yourselves credit for."
You pause, letting that sink in, and then you drop the kicker. "And it turns out I was right. You were already friends. You've been friends this whole time. If that's not fate, I don't know what is."
"Fate?" Sullyoon repeats incredulously. "You think this clusterfuck is fate?"
"I think the universe is trying to tell us something," you say with a shrug. "I'm just asking for a chance here. One chance to see if this could actually work."
"You're asking us to fulfill your depraved fantasy," Sullyoon shoots back. "You want to have two girlfriends because it gets you off, not because you actually care about making this work."
"Is it so bad?" you ask, and you're standing now, unable to sit still anymore. "Is it so terrible to want two girls at the same time? Two girls that I genuinely like and care about? Two girls who, by the way, don't hate each other? Who are actually friends and could potentially be more?"
You're pacing now, back and forth in front of the couch, your hands moving as you talk because you need the physical outlet for all this nervous energy. This is your closing argument, you realize. This is your chance to convince them or lose everything.
"Most guys in this situation would be dealing with two women who want to kill each other," you continue. "But you two? You already have a foundation. You already care about each other. That's not a bug, it's a feature."
"You think you deserve absolution?" Sullyoon asks, and despite herself, you see fascination flicker behind the anger. "You're guilty, and guilty men beg. But you're not begging - you’re bargaining.”
"No," you correct her. "I'm a guy who fucked up and wants to prove to both of you that I'm the right person for you. Both of you. Let me prove it."
Sullyoon crosses her arms, and you can see her defenses going back up. "What makes you think I would ever sleep with my own friend just to be with you? What makes you think I'd compromise our friendship for some guy?"
And here it is. Your finishing move. The ace you've been holding in your back pocket since you remembered that conversation from weeks ago. You try not to smile, you really do, but you can feel the satisfaction creeping across your face.
"You've done something like that before," you say simply.
"W-what?"
"You've been with a girl before," you elaborate, and now you're not even trying to hide the smirk. "You told me that yourself, remember? That night we were drinking wine and playing twenty questions and things got personal?"
"I..." Sullyoon starts, but she's stuttering now, thrown completely off balance. "How did you..."
"You said yes when I asked if you'd ever been with women," you continue, and you're enjoying this way too much. You know you are. But fuck if it doesn't feel good to finally have the upper hand in this conversation. "You said it was at a party. You were drunk. It was with a friend, you said. Before you became great friends, you specifically mentioned that part."
You turn to look at Haewon, whose face has gone bright red. Bingo.
"As soon as I saw you two together, I knew it was Haewon," you say. "The body language, the way you orbit around each other. The way Haewon got all flustered when Sullyoon touched her arm earlier. It's obvious if you know what to look for."
And yes, you're amazing, you know. They don't need to say it. The look on both their faces says it all.
Sullyoon stares at Haewon, and Haewon won't meet her eyes. The silence stretches out, taut and trembling, and for a second you think maybe you pushed too far. Maybe bringing up their past was crossing a line you shouldn't have crossed.
"We should go," Sullyoon murmurs. "Haewon, let's go."
But Haewon doesn't move. She's looking at you now with this expression you can't quite read, like she's seeing something she hadn't considered before. "What if he's right though?" she says quietly.
"What?" Sullyoon turns to stare at her friend.
"What if this actually works?" Haewon continues. "What if we're all sitting here fighting against something that could be good? We've already established that we all care about each other. We know the chemistry is there. Maybe we should at least try?"
"Haewon—" Sullyoon starts, but you cut in.
"Let me propose some rules," you say quickly, sensing an opening. "Ground rules so everyone feels safe and heard. We try this relationship, the three of us. We go out together, we talk about everything, complete transparency from here on out."
"This is insane," Sullyoon mutters, but she's not leaving. That's significant.
"I promise I'll never lie again," you continue, ticking points off on your fingers. "You'll both have access to my phone twenty-four seven. Full transparency on my location, my messages, everything. And if by some chance I fuck up and there's a third girl? Sullyoon can stab me. Multiple times. I'll sign a contract allowing the stabbings. All legal and binding."
Despite herself, despite everything, Sullyoon laughs. It's a short, shocked sound, but it's a laugh. "You'd sign a contract allowing me to stab you?"
"I'd sign it tomorrow," you say seriously. "Hell, I'd sign it right now if I had paper. I'll write it up myself. All within the bounds of the law, of course. I'm not trying to catch a murder charge here."
"Why are you so desperate?" Sullyoon asks, genuinely trying to understand what's going on in your head.
"Because I don't want to lose you," you say simply. "Either of you. You're both incredible. Sullyoon, you're brilliant and sharp and you challenge me in ways no one else does. You make me want to be better, smarter, more honest. And Haewon, you're sweet and funny and you make me feel like I'm not just some asshole with commitment issues. You make me feel like I could actually be someone's person." You look between them, these two beautiful women who somehow ended up in your life at the same time. "If you leave right now, I'm probably going to cry," you admit. "Like actually cry. Ugly cry. The whole thing."
Haewon laughs despite herself, this surprised giggle that breaks through the tension. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm aware," you say. "But I'm ridiculous about both of you, so there's that."
Even Sullyoon is smiling a little now, just this tiny upturn at the corner of her lips that she's trying to hide. You've got them, you realize. You're actually pulling this off.
"Look," you try again, calmer now, “let's just sit down and have dinner. Have a drink. Let's be civilized adults about this and talk it through. No more yelling, no more accusations. Just the three of us figuring out if this crazy thing could actually work."
Sullyoon looks at Haewon, then at you, then back at Haewon. You can see her weighing it all in her mind, every argument for and against. The silence stretches out so long you're starting to sweat.
"Fine," Sullyoon finally says, and you have to stop yourself from fist-pumping the air like an idiot. "Fine, we'll stay for dinner. But I'm not promising anything beyond that."
"That's all I'm asking. Just a chance. That's all.”
The three of you get up from the couch and walk towards the dining table, the girls settle into chairs across from each other, and that's when you remember the slight problem with your dinner plans. You glance at the table, at the two perfectly portioned containers of pasta from that overpriced Italian place, and yeah, this is definitely only enough food for two people. You were expecting a romantic evening with Haewon, not whatever the hell this has turned into.
"So, slight logistical issue," you announce, grabbing the wine bottles from the counter. "The dinner I ordered was actually meant for two people, shockingly enough. Didn't really anticipate having a third party join us tonight."
"Shocking," Sullyoon says dryly.
"Right, so here's what we're going to do," you continue, already moving into problem-solving mode. "Sullyoon, you can have my portion. Haewon keeps hers. I'll just drink and maybe steal some bread if there's any left."
You start serving them, placing the containers in front of each of them with this flourish like you're some fancy waiter at a five-star restaurant instead of a law student who's currently trying to convince two women to date him simultaneously. You're laying it on thick with the charm, pouring their wine with exaggerated care, making sure their napkins are perfectly placed. It's ridiculous and you know it, but it's also working. You can see Haewon's lips twitching with a suppressed smile.
"There you go, ladies," you say with a grin. "Dinner is served. Bon appétit and all that pretentious shit."
Haewon picks up her fork and twirls some pasta around it, taking a tentative bite. Her eyes light up immediately, and she makes this little satisfied sound that does things to you even in the middle of this bizarre situation.
"Oh my god, this is delicious," she says, already going in for another bite. "Where did you get this?"
"That place on Fifth we talked about going to," you reply, settling into the chair at the head of the table with your wine glass. "Figured I'd bring it here instead since they never have reservations available."
Sullyoon is just sitting there staring at her food like it might be poisoned, her fork resting untouched next to the container. You can tell she's still processing everything, still trying to reconcile the anger she came here with and whatever it is she's feeling now. Her jaw is tight, but her shoulders have relaxed just a fraction, and that's progress.
"Why do you want two girls?" she asks suddenly, not looking at you. "Like seriously, why? Isn't that too much work? Too… complicated?"
"I don't want you," you say, pausing for a moment before continuing (purely for dramatic effect), "I need you. Both of you. And you're never too much work."
Sullyoon snorts, finally picking up her fork but still not eating. "That's such a line."
"It's not a line if it's true," you counter. "Look, you both bring different things into my life. Things I didn't even know I needed until I had them."
"Very diplomatic," Sullyoon mutters, but you catch the ghost of a smile. "It's not like you could even handle two girls at once anyway," she adds, hiding a mischievous little smirk.
"You want to bet on that?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Because I will absolutely take that bet and I will absolutely win."
Haewon's eyes go wide, and she nearly chokes on her pasta. "Oh my god," she manages between coughs. "Are we really having this conversation right now?"
“Well, if we keep this going, we'll get there eventually,” you say casually. “Or do you think a threesome is just for playing dominoes?”
"I don't know anyone who's actually been in a threesome before," Haewon comments once she's recovered. "Like, I've heard about it obviously, but I don't know anyone who's actually done it."
"That's because you don't know people stupid enough to agree to something so ridiculous," Sullyoon says, finally taking a bite of her food. She chews slowly, deliberately, like she's using the time to think.
You shrug, pouring yourself more wine. "Or maybe we just don't know people brave enough to try something revolutionary. We could be pioneers here. The first super threesome that actually works long-term."
"We're not a threesome," Sullyoon says firmly.
"Yet," you add with a grin.
She glares at you, but it's not the same furious glare from before. This one has less bite, more exasperation, like you're a particularly annoying puppy she can't quite bring herself to kick.
The conversation continues as they eat and you drink, and slowly, so slowly you almost don't notice it happening, the atmosphere in the room starts to shift. Haewon finishes her pasta and reaches for her wine, taking bigger sips now that the initial shock has worn off. Sullyoon actually compliments the food, though she directs the comment at Haewon instead of you, like acknowledging that you made a good choice would be admitting too much. You're on your second glass when you notice Haewon slipping her shoes off under the table, tucking her feet up under her the way she always does when she's getting comfortable somewhere. It's such a familiar gesture, something you've seen her do a hundred times at your place, and seeing her do it now feels significant somehow. Like she's allowing herself to relax, to be here in this moment despite everything.
Sullyoon notices too, you can tell by the way her eyes track the movement. And then, maybe without even realizing she's doing it, she slides her own heels off, pushing them aside with her toes. Her feet are small and delicate, her toenails painted this deep red that matches the wine in her glass, and you file that detail away in the part of your brain that catalogs everything about her.
"You know, for someone who came here with the express purpose of stabbing me," you say, gesturing at Sullyoon with your wine glass, "you're awfully well dressed. And you smell really good. Is that a new perfume?"
"I didn't dress up for you," Sullyoon says quickly, but the tips of her ears are turning pink. "I just happened to be wearing this already. It has nothing to do with you."
"Uh huh," you say, not believing her for a second. You turn to Haewon. "What about you? Did you get all pretty to come see me tonight?"
Haewon bites her lip, and you can see her fighting back a smile. "Maybe," she admits. "I might have spent an extra twenty minutes on my hair. And I might have changed my outfit three times before leaving."
"Three times?" Sullyoon looks at her friend with something like betrayal. "You got dressed three times to confront the guy who's been lying to both of us?”
You laugh at the qualifier, raising your glass to her. "Usually. I'll take it, babe."
The wine is working its magic now, loosening everyone up, lowering the walls that were sky-high when they first walked in. Sullyoon reaches for the bottle and refills her own glass without asking, and you notice the way she's sitting now, less rigid, more relaxed. Her legs are crossed but her body is angled slightly toward the table instead of away, and that's a good sign. Her face is still that perfect combination of delicate and striking, those high cheekbones catching the light, her eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol.
"This is so weird," Sullyoon says, taking a long sip of wine. "Like, objectively, this entire situation is completely fucking weird."
"Weird doesn't mean bad though," you point out. "Weird can be good. Revolutionary, even."
"You keep using that word," Haewon says. "Revolutionary. Like we're starting some kind of movement instead of just making terrible life choices."
"Potato, potato," you say with a shrug. "Six of one, half dozen of the other."
The conversation continues, flowing more naturally now as the wine does its job. You're all on your third glasses when Haewon starts telling this story about her coworker who keeps stealing her lunch from the office fridge, and Sullyoon chimes in with legal advice about how to handle it, and you add your own commentary about the ethics of food theft in shared spaces. It's absurd and normal and comfortable in a way that shouldn't be possible given what happened an hour ago.
"See?" you say, gesturing between the three of them. "This isn't so bad, is it? We're talking, we're drinking, we're actually enjoying each other's company."
Haewon nods, and there's this soft smile on her face that makes her look even prettier than usual. Her cheeks are flushed from the wine, her eyes bright and happy in a way they weren't when she first arrived. "It is nice," she admits. "Having everyone together like this. I always wanted you two to meet, I just didn't think it would happen like this."
"It's weird," Sullyoon insists, but there's no real conviction behind it anymore. "I still can't look at your face without feeling angry."
"I can't look at your face without feeling in love."
"You two have chemistry," Haewon observes, and she's smiling now, this genuine smile that reaches her eyes. "Like, real chemistry. The kind you can feel from across the room."
"We do," you agree immediately, because it's true.
"We don't," Sullyoon argues. "We have nothing."
"You're such a liar," you say, but you're grinning when you say it. "We have everything and you know it.” You turn to look at Haewon. "Just like you and I have chemistry," you say, reaching across the table to take her hand. Her fingers are warm from holding her wine glass, and they fit perfectly in yours like they always do. "So much chemistry. Undeniable chemistry."
Haewon's eyes drop to where your hands are joined, and then she looks back up at you with this expression that's half nervous and half determined. Before you can say anything else, she's leaning across the table, closing the distance between you, and then her lips are on yours. It's not the first time you've kissed Haewon, obviously. You've kissed her dozens of times at this point, in your apartment and at the cinema and in that coffee shop where you first asked her out. But this feels different. This kiss is charged with everything that's happened tonight, all the tension and fear and hope together. She tastes like wine and pasta sauce, and you're kissing her back without thinking, your free hand coming up to cup her jaw. When she pulls away, both of you slightly breathless, you hear Sullyoon's voice from beside you.
"She's a lost cause," Sullyoon says, and when you turn to look at her, her eyes are huge. She's staring at Haewon like she's just witnessed something she can't quite process, her wine glass frozen halfway to her lips. "Absolutely hopeless. I can't believe you just did that in front of me."
"Your turn," you say, and the grin on your face is probably insufferable but you don't care. You're riding high on the fact that Haewon just kissed you in front of Sullyoon, that she chose you even with her best friend watching. The adrenaline is pumping through your veins, making you bold, making you stupid.
You push your chair back and stand, moving around the table toward Sullyoon. She tracks your movement with her eyes, and you can see the war happening behind them. Want and anger and fear all tangled up together.
"I know you want this too," you say, coming to stand in front of her chair. "You wouldn't still be here if you didn't."
"No," Sullyoon murmurs, "Don't come any closer."
You take another step forward. And another. You're right in front of her now, close enough that you can smell that perfume she insisted she didn't wear for you, something floral and expensive that makes your head fuzzy. She's looking up at you with those stunning eyes, her lips parted slightly, and she's not moving away. She could. But she doesn't.
"I mean it," she says, but there's no force behind the words. She's playing hard to get because that's what Sullyoon does, but you can read the truth in the way her chest is rising and falling faster, the way her pupils are dilated.
"Sure you do," you murmur, and then you're leaning down, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug that she doesn't resist. She's stiff at first, her body holding onto that last bit of pride, but then she softens just slightly. Just enough.
You kiss her cheek, right at the corner of her mouth, and you feel her breath hitch. "I promise," you say against her skin, "I won't make you regret this.” She turns her head, and suddenly you're face to face, her nose nearly touching yours. Her eyes are searching yours for something, some assurance that you're not going to fuck this up again, that you're serious about making this work. And you are serious. You've never been more serious about anything in your life.
"You better not," she whispers.
You kiss her, and it's different from kissing Haewon. Haewon kisses like she's afraid you might disappear if she holds on too tight, all soft and sweet and hesitant. Sullyoon kisses like she's trying to claim you, her lips firm and demanding, one hand coming up to fist in your shirt and pull you closer. There's a hunger in it that makes your knees weak, and you're dimly aware that Haewon is watching from across the table but you can't bring yourself to care. When Sullyoon finally pulls back, there's something vulnerable in her eyes you've only seen a handful of times. Her defenses are down, stripped away by the wine and the emotion and whatever decision she just made to let you in again.
"What you did really hurt me," she says quietly. "I was falling for you. Hard. And finding out about Haewon, realizing you'd been seeing both of us, it made me feel like everything we had was a lie. Like I was just another girl to you."
You start kissing her again, soft pecks all over her face. Her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, back to her lips. "I'm sorry," you murmur between kisses. "I'm so fucking sorry, Sullyoon. You were never just another girl. You're everything." She lets you kiss her, her eyes fluttering closed, and you can feel the tension slowly draining out of her body. You kiss along her jaw, down to that spot just below her ear that you know makes her shiver.
"I'll never make you sad again," you promise, and you mean it with everything in you. "I swear. No more lies, no more hiding. Just us. All three of us, completely honest."
"You better keep that promise," Sullyoon says, and when she opens her eyes again, a last note of pride burns behind the brown of her iris. "Because if you hurt me again, I will set you on fire. I'm not joking. I will actually commit arson."
"Noted," you say, grinning against her skin. "I accept the terms of that threat. You have my full permission to burn me alive if I fuck this up."
"I'll hold you to that," she says, and then her hand comes up to cup your face, her thumb brushing across your cheek. She pulls back slightly to look at you, and her eyes narrow. "You have lipstick all over your face."
You glance down and see the smudge of color on her thumb. It's a mix, you realize. The soft pink that Haewon was wearing mixed with Sullyoon's deeper red.
"Occupational hazard of kissing two beautiful women," you say with a shrug, but you're smiling so wide your face hurts. "I'm not complaining."
Sullyoon wipes at another spot on your jaw, shaking her head but there's this tiny smile on her lips now. Not quite forgiveness, not yet, but something close. Something that looks like possibility.
"You are the most scoundrel guy in the world," she points out.
"And yet here you are," you counter. "Still in my apartment. Still letting me kiss you. Almost like you don't actually hate me as much as you're pretending to."
"I do hate you," she argues, but it's half-hearted at best. "I hate how much I don't hate you."
From across the table, Haewon giggles. "That makes no sense," she points out, and when you turn to look at her, she's got this dopey smile on her face, her chin propped in her hand. "But I get it. He has that effect on people."
"He's infuriating," Sullyoon agrees.
"Devastatingly charming," you correct.
"Infuriatingly charming," Haewon compromises, and you'll take it.
"So," you say, returning to your chair, “does this mean we're doing this? All three of us?"
"Don't push your luck,” Sullyoon warns you.
"I'm just trying to clarify the terms of our agreement here," you argue. "As a future lawyer, I believe in clear communication and defined parameters."
"You're not a lawyer yet," Sullyoon reminds you for probably the hundredth time.
"Semantics," you wave a hand dismissively. "The point stands.”
She smiles at you, and it's real this time. Not the bitter angry smile from before, not the skeptical one she's been using all night, but an actual genuine smile that makes her whole face light up. It transforms her from beautiful to absolutely devastating, and you're momentarily stunned by it. This is why you couldn't choose, you think. How could anyone be expected to choose between these two incredible women
The wine keeps flowing as the three of you talk, the conversation moving from serious to silly and back again. You've lost count of how many glasses you've all had at this point, but the bottle on the table is definitely empty and you're pretty sure you opened a second one at some point. Everything has that pleasant fuzzy quality that comes with being just drunk enough that your inhibitions are lowered but not so drunk that you're sloppy.
"We should move to the couch," Haewon suggests, already standing up and wobbling slightly. She giggles at her own unsteadiness, catching herself on the back of her chair. "The chairs are getting uncomfortable."
"Because you're sitting weird," Sullyoon points out, but she's standing too, stretching her arms above her head in a way that makes her sweater ride up slightly. You catch a glimpse of smooth skin and quickly look away before you get caught staring. "You always sit like a pretzel and then wonder why your legs hurt."
"I like sitting like a pretzel," Haewon argues, already making her way to the living room. "It's comfortable."
The three of you migrate to the couch, they end up sitting next to each other on one side of the couch, leaving you on the other end. It's different seeing them together like this, side by side. They're leaning into each other slightly, comfortable in a way that speaks to years of friendship, and you're struck again by how lucky you are that they don't actually hate each other. Most guys in this situation would be dealing with World War Three, but here these two are, best friends who apparently made out at a party once and are now somehow both considering dating the same person.
"You know how lucky you are that we're both still here, right?" Sullyoon says, turning to look at you with those intense eyes. "Like, you understand how easily this could have gone a completely different way?"
"I know," you say seriously, meeting her gaze. "Trust me, I know. I'm not taking this for granted."
"You better not," she says, but there's no threat in it this time. Just statement of fact.
"I promise," you tell her, and then you look at both of them, these two incredible women who somehow ended up in your apartment on what was supposed to be a simple dinner date. "I'm not going to waste this opportunity. Whatever this is, whatever it becomes, I'm all in."
Haewon leans her head on Sullyoon's shoulder, and the sight of it does something to you. They look good together, you think. They fit in a way that's different from how you fit with either of them individually. There's this easy intimacy between them that comes from years of friendship, and you're suddenly very aware that you're the outsider here. They've known each other longer, they have history together, and you're just the guy who somehow stumbled into both their lives at the same time.
"So what happens now?" Haewon asks, her words slightly slurred from the wine. "Like, logistically. Do we all just pretend this is normal? Do we tell people? Do we have scheduled days?"
"Scheduled days sounds so clinical," you say with a laugh. "Like I'm a timeshare or something."
"You kind of are though," Sullyoon points out. "We're literally sharing you."
"I prefer to think of it as you both having full access to me," you counter. "No restrictions, no limitations. I'm yours. Both of yours."
Haewon sits up, suddenly animated despite the alcohol. This is classic drunk Haewon, you realize. She gets passionate and talkative and starts making elaborate plans that may or may not make sense in the morning. "We could go on dates together," she says excitedly. "The three of us. Like to museums and restaurants and stuff. Oh! We should go to that new karaoke place that opened downtown. I've been dying to go but I didn't want to go alone."
"Karaoke?" Sullyoon looks skeptical. "I don't do karaoke."
"Yes you do," Haewon insists. "Remember that time on Lily's birthday when you sang that Ariana Grande song and everyone lost their minds?"
"I was extremely drunk," Sullyoon argues. "That doesn't count."
"Well we're extremely drunk now," you point out. "So technically if we went to karaoke right now, it would count."
"We're not going to karaoke right now," Sullyoon says firmly. "It's like..." she squints at the clock on the wall, "way too late for karaoke."
"It's barely eight," Haewon giggles. "That's not late."
"It's late for me," Sullyoon says, but she's smiling. "I'm old. I need my beauty sleep."
"You’re twenty-one," you say. "That's not old."
"Tell that to my knees," she mutters.
"I have so many ideas," Haewon continues, bouncing slightly in her seat. "We could have movie nights where we all pick a film and then we do a marathon. Oh, and we could cook together! I'm terrible at cooking but you're decent and Sullyoon is actually good, so between the three of us we might be able to make something edible."
"I like how your plan still has you contributing nothing to the cooking," Sullyoon observes.
"I can be moral support!" Haewon protests. "That's important too!"
"What about you?" you ask Sullyoon. "What do you want out of this? Assuming we're really doing this."
Sullyoon considers the question, taking a slow sip of her wine. She's more methodical than Haewon, more careful with her words even when drunk. "I want honesty," she says finally. "Complete transparency. No more surprises, no more finding out about secret other girlfriends."
"There are no other girlfriends," you assure her. "Just you two. That's it. That's all I want."
"Good," she says. "And I want us to actually talk about things. If someone's feeling neglected or jealous or whatever, we deal with it immediately. We don't let it fester."
"That's very mature of you," you observe.
"Someone has to be the adult in this situation," she replies. "God knows it's not going to be you."
"Hey, I can be mature," you argue. "I'm in law school. That's very mature."
"You tried to bribe a professor last semester," Sullyoon reminds you.
"That was a joke," you protest. "Obviously I wasn't actually going to give him concert tickets in exchange for a better grade."
"You absolutely were," Sullyoon says. "You just chickened out at the last second."
Haewon is watching this exchange with delight, her eyes bright with alcohol and happiness. "You two are so cute when you bicker," she says. "It's like watching an old married couple."
"We're not old," you say.
"Or married," Sullyoon adds.
"Yet," Haewon says with a mischievous grin, and both you and Sullyoon look at her with varying degrees of alarm.
"Okay, slow down there," you say. "Let's maybe get through the first date as a throuple before we start planning the wedding."
"Throuple," Haewon repeats, testing out the word. "Is that what we are? A throuple?"
"I don't know what we are," Sullyoon admits. "But I guess we're something."
"We're something," you agree, and you reach out to take both their hands. Haewon's fingers lace through yours immediately, eager and warm. Sullyoon hesitates for just a second before allowing it, her grip more tentative but still there. "We're definitely something."
The conversation continues, meandering from topic to topic the way drunk conversations do. At some point, the conversation turns flirtier. You're not sure who starts it, maybe it's just the natural progression of three people who are attracted to each other getting progressively drunker together. But suddenly Haewon is complimenting your hands, going on about how much she likes the way they look, Sullyoon is cringing hard at how shamelessly Haewon is talking but also agreeing that yes, you do have nice hands.
"It's not just the hands," Haewon says, and she's definitely drunk now. "It's the whole package. The face, the smile, the way you smell."
"The way I smell?" you repeat with a laugh.
"You smell good!" she insists. "Like expensive cologne and cigarettes and something else I can't quite place."
"Bad decisions," Sullyoon supplies. "He smells like bad decisions."
"Hey," you protest. "I'm not a bad decision. I'm a questionable decision that might turn out okay."
"That's worse," Sullyoon says, but she's smiling now, relaxed in a way she hasn't been all night. "You know that's worse, right?"
"I think he's a good decision," Haewon says loyally, snuggling closer to Sullyoon but looking at you. "Maybe not a smart decision, but a good one."
"There's a difference?" you ask.
"Definitely," Sullyoon says. "Smart decisions are boring. Good decisions make you happy even if they're stupid."
"That's surprisingly philosophical for someone who's had almost an entire bottle of wine," you observe.
"I contain multitudes," Sullyoon replies grandly, waving her glass for emphasis and nearly spilling it. "I'm deep."
"You're drunk," you correct with a grin.
"I'm both," she insists. "I can be both."
Haewon suddenly perks up like she's had a brilliant idea. "We should play truth or dare," she announces. "But like, only truth. Because if we do dares right now someone's going to end up in the emergency room."
"Truth or truth?" Sullyoon says. "That's just called a conversation, Haewon."
"But it's more fun with structure," Haewon argues. "Come on, it'll be like we're teenagers again."
"We literally are barely not teenagers," you point out. "We're all in our early twenties."
"Semantics," Haewon says, throwing your own word back at you. "Are we playing or not?"
"Fine," Sullyoon says. "But I'm asking the first question." She turns to look at you. "Truth: When did you know you were in too deep with both of us? When did you realize you couldn't choose?"
It's a loaded question, and you take a moment to really think about your answer. These two deserve honesty, especially now.
"About a month in," you admit. "I was with you, Sullyoon, at that art gallery. And you were talking about this painting, going into all this detail about the brushwork and the composition. And I remember thinking that I could listen to you talk forever. That I wanted to know everything about you." Haewon notices Sullyoon slightly shy, and you continue. "But then two days later I was with Haewon, and we were at that bookstore she loves. And she was showing me all these books she'd read as a kid, getting so animated about these stories. And I realized I felt the exact same way about her. Like I wanted to know every single thing in her head."
Haewon makes a small sound, something between a sigh and a whimper, and you're pretty sure if Sullyoon wasn't between you she'd be kissing you right now.
"That's when I knew I was fucked," you finish. "Because I couldn't imagine giving up either one of you.”
Sullyoon goes quiet for a moment, and you can see her processing everything you just said. Then she turns to Haewon, and suddenly the mood in your living room changes.
"Haewon," Sullyoon sounds sober now despite the wine, focused in a way that makes you sit up straighter. "If I agree to this, if we actually do this, it's going to change our relationship forever. You understand that, right?"
Haewon blinks, seeming to sober up a little too at the gravity in Sullyoon's tone. "What do you mean?"
"I mean this isn't like those times at parties when we were drunk and things got fuzzy," Sullyoon explains, and you're suddenly very aware that you're witnessing something private between them. "This would be different. This would be intentional. The two of us, together, with him. That changes things between us."
"I know," Haewon says quietly.
"Do you?" Sullyoon presses. "Because I need you to really think about this. We've been friends for years. Best friends. And I don't want to lose that because we decided to do something stupid."
Haewon reaches out and takes Sullyoon's hand, lacing their fingers together in a mirror of how she held yours earlier. "I like you," Haewon confesses. "I've always liked you, Sully. And if getting closer to you is part of this, then that's not a problem for me. It's actually kind of perfect."
Sullyoon's breath catches, and you watch as she processes this confession. Her free hand comes up to rest on Haewon's thigh, her fingers splaying across the fabric of her jeans.
"I like you too. A lot. Princess," Sullyoon adds, and the pet name makes Haewon's eyes go wide. "Are you sure about this? Once we cross this line, we can't go back."
Haewon nods, and there are tears gathering in her eyes but she's smiling. "I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything."
"Then kiss me.”
Haewon freezes, her eyes darting to you for a second like she's asking permission. You nod, encouraging her. "Go ahead," you say quietly. "It's okay."
Haewon turns back to Sullyoon, and you can see her gathering her courage. She's nervous, you can tell by the way her hands are shaking slightly, by the way she's biting her lower lip. But she leans in anyway, closing the distance between them, and then her lips are on Sullyoon's.
It's different from how either of them kiss you. Softer, more exploratory, like they're rediscovering something they'd half-forgotten. Sullyoon's hand comes up to cup Haewon's face, her thumb stroking along her cheekbone, and she kisses back with this tenderness that makes your throat tight. There's history here, you realize. This isn't the first time they've done this, but it might be the first time they've done it with intention behind it.
When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing harder. Haewon's face is flushed pink, her lips slightly swollen, and Sullyoon is looking at her with this expression that's equal parts fond and hungry.
"Fuck," Sullyoon breathes out, closing her eyes for a second. "Okay. That's it. There's no turning back now."
"Is that a bad thing?" Haewon asks nervously.
"No," Sullyoon says, opening her eyes to look at her friend. "It's terrifying, but it's not bad."
She turns to look at you then. A decision has been made, some internal battle has been won or lost, and she's committed to this path now. "We should probably figure out logistics," she says, and her voice has that practical edge to it even though her hand is still on Haewon's thigh. "Like, is your bed even big enough for three people?"
"There's only one way to find out," you say, and you're grinning because you can't help it. This is actually happening. They're actually agreeing to this insane thing.
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Sullyoon asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm suggesting we go check out my bedroom," you reply. "For purely practical purposes. We need to assess the sleeping arrangements."
"Sleeping arrangements," Haewon repeats, and she giggles. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"That's what I'm calling it," you say. "What you call it is up to you."
Sullyoon and Haewon look at each other, another one of those silent conversations passing between them. Then Sullyoon nods, just a tiny dip of her chin, and Haewon smiles.
"Okay," Sullyoon says. "Show us this bedroom of yours."
You stand up, offering a hand to each of them. Haewon takes yours immediately, her fingers warm and eager. Sullyoon hesitates for just a heartbeat before placing her hand in your other one, and then you're pulling them both to their feet. They're standing close to you now, close enough that you can smell Haewon's vanilla body spray mixing with Sullyoon's expensive perfume.
"This way.”
The walk from the living room to your bedroom has never felt longer. It's maybe fifteen steps, twenty at most, but each one feels weighted with significance. Haewon is clinging to your hand like you might disappear if she lets go, and Sullyoon is walking with this deliberate grace despite the wine, her fingers laced through yours.
You push open the door to your bedroom, and suddenly you're very aware of the state of it. You'd cleaned up earlier for Haewon, made the bed with fresh sheets and everything, but now you're seeing it through new eyes. The bed is a queen size, definitely big enough for two people, but three? That might be cozy.
"It's nice," Haewon says, looking around with genuine interest. "I always liked your room."
"Thanks," you say, watching as she examines the framed prints you'd hung up last month. "I was going for 'adult who has his shit together' aesthetic."
"You nailed it," she says. "Very adult. Much together."
Sullyoon looks around your room with new eyes, taking in the space she's been in so many times before but never like this. Never with Haewon here too. "This is so weird," she says. "I've slept in this bed so many times, and now..."
"And now it's going to be even better," you interrupt, moving closer to her. "More intimate. More us."
You gesture toward the bed. "Come on, let's all test it out properly."
But before you can take another step, Sullyoon places both hands on your chest and gives you a firm push backward. You stumble and fall back onto the mattress with a surprised laugh, bouncing slightly as you land.
"Patience," she says with a smirk. "Give us some space here. We need room to work."
"Room to work?" you repeat, propping yourself up on your elbows. "What kind of work are we talking about?"
Instead of answering, Sullyoon reaches for the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion. Your breath catches in your throat as she reveals herself, standing there in just her skirt and this black lace bra that does absolutely sinful things to her figure. Her skin is pale and flawless, and the way the lace contrasts against it makes your mouth go dry.
Haewon immediately follows suit, tugging her own cropped cardigan off with less grace but equal enthusiasm. She's wearing this soft pink bra that's so perfectly her, sweet and pretty and feminine. Her cheeks are flushed, whether from the wine or embarrassment or excitement you can't tell, but it makes her look even more beautiful.
"Fuck me," you breathe out, and both girls smile at your reaction.
You sit up quickly, pulling your own shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere across the room. If they're getting undressed, you're not about to be left out. Your pants follow, leaving you in just your boxer briefs, and you catch both of them looking, their eyes tracking over your body with obvious appreciation.
Sullyoon pulls down the zipper of her skirt, sliding the fabric down her long legs with this deliberate slowness that's absolutely torturous to watch. When she kicks them aside, she's left in just her matching black lace set, and Jesus Christ, she's stunning. You never get tired of appreciating her beauty. Perfect proportions, tall and lean with curves in exactly the right places. Her legs seem to go on forever, and her waist is so narrow you could probably span it with your hands. Her stomach is flat and toned, and the way the lace sits on her hips makes you want to trace every edge with your tongue.
Haewon is more hurried with her jeans, eager to catch up, and when she's stripped down to her underwear she's breathtaking in a completely different way. Where Sullyoon is all sharp angles and elegant lines, Haewon is soft curves and inviting warmth. Her thighs are thick and gorgeous, the kind you want to get lost between, and her breasts fill out her bra perfectly, round and full and absolutely perfect. Her toned abdomen makes her look like someone who works out regularly, but it’s pure genetics; at least, you’ve never heard her talk about the gym or anything fitness-related (unless you count eating Doritos and drinking Coke Zero while binge-watching questionable anime as healthy).
"Holy shit… You're both so fucking beautiful."
They climb onto the bed together, and the sight of them moving toward you in just their underwear is almost too much to handle. The mattress dips under their weight as they position themselves on either side of you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off their skin.
"You got what you wanted," Sullyoon says, and there's this intensity in her dark eyes that makes your mind short-circuit. "You better make this count."
Before you can respond, she's leaning over and kissing you, her lips soft and demanding at the same time. Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, holding you exactly where she wants you, and you can taste the wine on her tongue as it slides against yours. It's intoxicating, the way she kisses like she's claiming you, marking her territory.
When she pulls away, Haewon immediately takes her place, pressing her lips to yours with all the enthusiasm you've come to love about her. She kisses differently than Sullyoon, more eager and sweet, her hands tangling in your hair as she pours everything she's feeling into the contact. You can feel her smile against your mouth, this pure joy that's so infectious you can't help but smile back.
Then, before you can fully process what's happening, Sullyoon and Haewon are kissing each other over you, their lips meeting while you're trapped between them. The sight of it, the sound of their soft sighs and the way their hands are all over your chest and shoulders, makes you feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
"Fuck," you groan, and both of them break apart to look at you with matching grins.
"Are we hot together?" Sullyoon asks.
"You're the best duo I've ever seen," you say honestly, reaching up to touch both their faces. "Absolutely incredible."
They both laugh at that, these bright sounds that fill the room, and then they're back to kissing you and each other, their hands roaming over your body, exploring and teasing. Haewon's fingers trail down your chest while Sullyoon's hand slides along your arm and you can feel yourself getting hard, your body responding to the overwhelming sensation of having both of them touching you at once. It's almost too much, the way they're both focused on you, working together in this perfect synchronization that shouldn't be possible but somehow is.
The three of you continue like this for what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, kissing and touching and exploring each other with increasing urgency. Your hands are everywhere, memorizing the feel of Haewon's soft curves and Sullyoon's lean strength, the way they both respond to your touch with these beautiful little sounds that drive you absolutely insane.
Sullyoon shifts her position, climbing on top of you so she's straddling your hips, and the feeling of her weight pressing down on you through the thin layers of fabric separating you is deliciously insane. She's showing off now, you can tell by the smirk on her face, rolling her hips just slightly in a way that makes your eyes nearly roll back in your head.
"Enjoying the view?" she asks, her hands braced on your chest, her hair falling around her face.
"Very much," you manage, but you're not about to let her have all the control here. In one swift motion, you grab her waist and flip her over, reversing your positions so she's beneath you on the mattress. She lets out this surprised laugh that's absolutely delightful, her eyes wide and sparkling.
"Oh, so that's how it's going to be?" she says, but she's grinning.
"That's exactly how it's going to be," you confirm, and then you're kissing down her neck, along her collarbone, making her giggle and squirm beneath you. Her skin tastes faintly of that expensive perfume she wears, and you can feel her pulse racing under your lips.
Haewon shifts on the bed, lying down next to Sullyoon, and you turn your attention to her, giving her the same treatment. She sighs when your lips touch her throat and you can feel the way her breath hitches when you find that sensitive spot just below her ear.
"You're both so perfect," you murmur against Haewon's skin, and she makes this pleased sound that goes straight to your cock.
Your hands move to Sullyoon's back, finding the clasp of her bra. "Can I?" you ask.
"Please," Sullyoon breathes out, arching her back to give you better access.
You unhook it easily, sliding the straps down her arms and tossing the black lace aside. Then you turn to Haewon, your fingers trailing along her sides. "Your turn, baby. Take it off for me."
Haewon's face flushes even deeper, but she reaches back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away.
Sullyoon's breasts are perfect, proportional to her lean frame, with small pink nipples that are already hard from arousal. They're perky and firm, the kind that fit perfectly in your palms, and the way they move when she breathes is mesmerizing. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and you can see the flush spreading down from her neck.
Haewon's breasts are fuller, rounder, spilling slightly to the sides as she lies on her back. They're absolutely gorgeous, larger than Sullyoon's with these soft dusky nipples that you want to taste immediately. They're the kind of breasts that beg to be worshipped, and the way they bounce slightly when she shifts it's mesmerizing enough to make you lose track of time.
"Jesus Christ," you breathe out, just taking them both in. "You're both so fucking gorgeous. I don't even know where to start."
"Start anywhere," Sullyoon says. "Just start."
You lean down and take one of Sullyoon's nipples into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and feeling it harden even more against your tongue. She gasps, her back arching off the bed, and her hand comes up to grip your hair.
"Fuck," she moans, and hearing her swear like that, losing some of that control, is incredibly hot.
Your right hand moves to Haewon's breast, cupping the soft flesh and rolling her nipple between your thumb and forefinger. She whimpers at the contact, her hips shifting restlessly on the bed.
"That feels so good," Haewon sighs, and you can hear the need in her voice.
You lavish attention on Sullyoon's breast, sucking and licking and gently biting until she's squirming beneath you, her nails digging into your scalp. Then you switch, moving your mouth to Haewon's fuller breast while your hand continues to play with Sullyoon.
"Oh god," Haewon moans when your lips close around her nipple, her whole body trembling. Her breast fills your mouth perfectly, and you love the way she tastes, clean and sweet with just a hint of that vanilla body spray she always wears.
You alternate between them, giving each of them equal attention, not wanting either of them to feel neglected. Your mouth on one while your hand works the other, then switching, back and forth until they're both panting and writhing.
"You're so good at that," Sullyoon manages, breathy. "Your mouth is fucking incredible."
"Love how sensitive you both are," you murmur against Haewon's skin, flicking your tongue over her nipple and making her cry out. "Love the sounds you make."
"We love what you're doing to us," Haewon says, and then she and Sullyoon reach for each other, their hands finding each other across your body, fingers intertwining.
You move back to Sullyoon's breast, taking your time now, wanting to prove a point. Your tongue circles her nipple slowly before you take it fully into your mouth, sucking with just enough pressure to make her gasp. Her chest is heaving, her breath coming in these short, sharp bursts that tell you exactly how affected she is.
"Fuck, just like that," Sullyoon moans, and her free hand that isn't holding Haewon's comes up to the back of your head, holding you against her. "Don't stop."
You hum against her skin, the vibration making her whimper, and your hand kneads Haewon's breast, your thumb brushing repeatedly over her sensitive nipple. You can feel how hard it is under your touch, how responsive she is to every single movement.
"You know," you say, pulling back just enough to speak but keeping your lips brushing against Sullyoon's skin, "you said I couldn't handle both of you at once."
"Did I?" Sullyoon's voice is strained, distracted by the way your tongue is now tracing patterns across her chest.
"You did," you confirm, moving to her other breast now, giving it the same thorough attention. You suck hard enough to make her arch up off the bed, her thighs clenching together. "Said it wasn't possible."
"Maybe I was wrong," she admits breathlessly, and you grin against her skin.
"Maybe?" you repeat, switching your attention to Haewon now. You take her fuller breast in your mouth, loving the weight of it, the way it fills your palm perfectly when you cup it. Your tongue swirls around her nipple before you suck it between your lips, and Haewon practically sobs at the sensation.
"Oh my god," Haewon whimpers, her hips rolling up involuntarily. "That's so good, you're so good at this."
Your hand moves to Sullyoon's breast now, making sure she's not neglected for even a second. You pinch her nipple gently, then a bit harder when she moans encouragingly, rolling it between your fingers the way you know she likes.
"I think I'm handling you both pretty well," you say with that smugness creeping into your voice, because you can't help yourself. Both of them are writhing beneath your touch, their bodies responding beautifully to everything you're doing. "In fact, I'd say I'm exceeding expectations."
"Don't get cocky," Sullyoon manages, but her voice lacks any real bite. It's hard to be threatening when you're panting and moaning.
"Too late," you reply, moving back to her breast and biting down gently on her nipple. She cries out, her back arching sharply, and you soothe the sting with your tongue. "I'm absolutely going to handle both of you. All night if that's what it takes to prove my point."
"All night?" Haewon's eyes are wide, her pupils blown with arousal. "You think you can last all night?"
"Baby, I'm going to make you both come so many times you forget your own names," you promise, and it's not an empty boast. You're determined to make this the best decision they've ever made. "I'm going to worship every inch of both of you until you're begging me to stop."
You lavish attention on Haewon's breasts, alternating between them, sucking and licking and kissing every inch of soft skin. One of her hands is in your left bicep, squeezing slightly when you do something she particularly likes, and you're learning fast what makes her gasp versus what makes her moan.
"You taste so fucking good," you murmur against her skin. "Both of you. Could do this for hours."
Then you're back to Sullyoon, your mouth hungry and demanding on her smaller breast. You love the contrast between them, the way Sullyoon's are firm and perky while Haewon's are soft and full. Getting to experience both, to learn what each of them likes, it's better than any fantasy you could have imagined.
"See?" you say, pulling back to look at both of them. "Handling you both just fine. Better than fine. I'm excelling."
"You're so full of yourself," Sullyoon says, but she's smiling, reaching up to pull you down for a kiss.
"Can you blame me?" you ask against her lips. "Look at you both. Absolutely wrecked and we've barely even started."
"Then maybe you should stop talking," Haewon suggests breathlessly, "and show us what else you can do."
You grin at that, moving between them, your hands and mouth working in tandem to keep them both gasping. You take turns, never letting either of them cool down, building them up together. When you're sucking on Sullyoon's nipple, your hand is working Haewon's breast. When you move to taste Haewon, your fingers are teasing Sullyoon.
"This is insane," Sullyoon breathes out. "The way you're touching us both, it's..."
"It's perfect," Haewon finishes for her, and they look at each other across your body, something passing between them.
You continue your worship, your mouth moving from one to the other, learning exactly what makes each of them squirm. Sullyoon likes it when you use your teeth just a little, that edge of pain with the pleasure. Haewon prefers long, slow licks and gentle sucking that builds gradually. And you give them both exactly what they need, proving with every touch that you can absolutely handle them both.
"Told you I could do this," you say smugly, and both of them laugh breathlessly.
"Okay, okay," Sullyoon admits. "You were right. Happy now?"
"Very," you say, grinning up at them. "But we're just getting started.”
You're definitely being cocky now, you know you are, but you can't help yourself. The satisfaction of proving Sullyoon wrong, of having both of them exactly where you want them, it's going to your head almost as much as the wine did.
"I mean, I hate to say I told you so," you start, grinning up at them from where you're positioned between their bodies, "but I definitely told you so. Look at you both, absolutely falling apart and I haven't even—"
Sullyoon cuts you off by grabbing your face and kissing you hard, effectively shutting you up mid-sentence. When she pulls back, there's this dangerous glint in her eyes that you recognize immediately. You've pushed her buttons, and now she's going to push back.
"You talk too much," she says, and before you can respond with something undoubtedly smart-ass, she's flipping you over onto your back with surprising strength. You land with a slight bounce, looking up at her with wide eyes.
"Haewon," Sullyoon says, not taking her eyes off you, "come help me shut him up."
Haewon sits up, looking between you and Sullyoon with confusion. "How?" she asks innocently, and the genuine naivety in her voice makes you want to laugh.
"With your ass," Sullyoon replies matter-of-factly, and you watch Haewon's face go through about five different emotions in rapid succession.
"My—wait, you mean—" Haewon stammers, and her eyes go wide as understanding dawns. "Oh... Oh."
"Exactly," Sullyoon confirms. "Sit on his face. He clearly needs something to occupy that mouth of his."
Your cock twitches hard at those words, at the mental image that's suddenly very vivid in your mind. Haewon straddling your face, Sullyoon between your legs, both of them working you over until you can't think straight. Yeah, you're extremely on board with this plan.
"Is that okay?" Haewon asks, looking down at you with those big expressive eyes, checking for consent even in the middle of all this.
"More than okay, babe," you manage. "Get up here."
Sullyoon's hands are already at the waistband of your boxer briefs, hooking her fingers under the elastic. "These need to go," she announces, and you lift your hips to help her slide them down your legs. Your cock springs free, already hard and leaking, and you hear Sullyoon make this satisfied sound. "Look at you. So hard for us already."
Meanwhile, you're helping Haewon position herself, your hands guiding her thighs as she climbs over your body. She's still wearing those pretty pink panties, and you can already see the wet spot darkening the fabric.
"Come on, baby," you encourage, your hands on her hips. "Just like that."
Haewon's face is flushed as she positions herself over you, her thighs on either side of your head. She hooks her fingers into her panties and pulls them aside, and suddenly you're face to face with her pussy, already glistening with arousal. The scent of her fills your nose, sweet and musky and absolutely intoxicating.
"Sit," Sullyoon commands from between your legs, and you feel her hand wrap around your cock, making you groan.
Haewon lowers herself slowly, tentatively, and you can tell she's nervous about putting her full weight on you. But you're having none of that. Your hands grip her ass firmly, pulling her down the rest of the way until her pussy is pressed fully against your mouth.
"Oh fuck," Haewon gasps at the contact, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.
You don't waste any time, your tongue sliding through her folds, tasting her properly for the first time tonight. She's so wet already, and the flavor of her explodes across your taste buds. You lick from bottom to top, ending at her clit and circling it with the tip of your tongue.
"Oh my god," Haewon moans, her hands flying forward to brace herself against the headboard. "That's—fuck, that's so good."
You can't respond verbally, obviously, your mouth being thoroughly occupied, but you hum in agreement and the vibration makes her whimper. You're holding her in place, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass, keeping her exactly where you want her while you eat her out like a man starving.
Then you feel Sullyoon's mouth on your cock and every muscle in your body tenses. She takes you deep on the first try, her lips sliding down your length until you can feel yourself hitting the back of her throat. The wet heat of her mouth is incredible, and you groan against Haewon's pussy, which makes her grind down on your face.
"Taste good?" Sullyoon asks when she pulls off, her hand stroking you slowly. You can hear the smirk in her voice.
You respond by sucking Haewon's clit into your mouth and flicking your tongue over it rapidly, making her cry out and grab at the headboard harder. Your hands knead her ass, encouraging her to move, to ride your face, and after a moment of hesitation she does, rolling her hips in this beautiful rhythm.
Sullyoon goes back to sucking your cock, and it's absolutely devastating. Her mouth is skilled and demanding, taking you deep before pulling back to swirl her tongue around the head. She alternates between taking you as deep as she can and focusing on the sensitive tip, and combined with Haewon's taste on your tongue and the feeling of her grinding against your face, you're completely overwhelmed in the best possible way.
"He's good with his tongue, isn't he?" Sullyoon says, and you can feel her breath against your cock as she speaks. "I can tell by the way you're shaking."
"So good," Haewon confirms breathlessly. "Oh god, his tongue is... Fuck, I can't think."
"That was the goal," Sullyoon says with satisfaction. "Shut that smart mouth up by giving it something useful to do."
You would laugh if your mouth wasn't otherwise occupied. Instead you just double down on your efforts, your tongue working overtime on Haewon's clit while you slide two fingers into her pussy. She's so tight and wet, clenching around your fingers immediately, and you curl them to find that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Haewon chants, her thighs squeezing against your head. "Right there, don't stop, please don't stop."
You have no intention of stopping. You finger-fuck her while sucking her clit, establishing a rhythm that has her practically sobbing above you. Meanwhile, Sullyoon is absolutely destroying you with her mouth, taking you deep and sucking hard, her hand working what doesn't fit in her mouth.
This is heaven, you think hazily. This is exactly what you imagined when you first thought about having them both, but the reality is so much better than any fantasy. The weight of Haewon on your face, the taste of her on your tongue, the feeling of Sullyoon's mouth on your cock, the sounds they're both making - you are fulfilling a dream you didn't even know you had until a few months ago.
Haewon's grinding down on your face now with more confidence, her initial nervousness giving way to pure need. Her pussy is dripping, coating your chin and jaw with her arousal, and you fucking love it. You love how responsive she is, how every swipe of your tongue makes her gasp and moan.
"God, look at you," Sullyoon says, pulling off your cock. Her hand keeps stroking you slowly, her thumb circling the head and spreading the precum that's been steadily leaking. "So hard for us. You really love this, don't you? Having both of us at once?"
You groan your agreement against Haewon's pussy, the sound muffled but unmistakable. Your free hand reaches down blindly until you find Sullyoon's hair, tangling your fingers in it. Not pushing, just wanting to touch her, to ground yourself in the reality that this is actually happening.
"He's really good at this," Haewon pants. She's looking down at you with those wide eyes, her face flushed and her lips parted. "Like, really, really good. How are you so good at this?"
Sullyoon laughs, the sound vibrating against your thigh where she's pressed close. "Practice makes perfect, I guess. Though I'm curious who he's been practicing on." There's a teasing edge to her voice, but also genuine curiosity.
You pull back just enough from Haewon's pussy to speak, your lips still brushing against her sensitive flesh. "Just you two," you manage. "Only ever been this enthusiastic with you two."
"Liar," Sullyoon accuses, but she sounds pleased. She takes you back into her mouth, deeper this time, and you feel yourself hit the back of her throat. She holds you there for a moment before pulling back, and the sensation is so intense you have to fight to keep your focus.
"Not lying," you insist, going back to licking Haewon with renewed purpose. You spell out words with your tongue against her clit, random things, dirty things, and she writhes above you with each letter.
"What are you doing?" Haewon asks breathlessly, trying to look down at you but her position makes it difficult. "That feels different."
"Writing," you say, pulling back again just to explain. "Spelling words with my tongue."
"That's so nerdy," Haewon says with a giggle that turns into a moan when you demonstrate again, spelling out her name. "Oh fuck, do that more."
Sullyoon's working her mouth up and down your length with this perfect rhythm that's driving you insane. She's taking her time, clearly in no rush, just enjoying having you at her mercy. Every now and then she'll pull off completely to lick you like you're her favorite ice cream, her tongue tracing the vein on the underside before swirling around the head.
"You taste good," Sullyoon comments casually. "Kind of salty but not bad."
"Thanks, I think?" you say against Haewon's pussy, and both girls laugh.
"That was definitely a compliment," Sullyoon assures you. "I wouldn't keep doing this if I didn't like it."
She emphasizes her point by taking you deep again, her throat working around you, and you curse into Haewon's wetness. Your fingers curl inside her harder, finding that spot that makes her whole body jerk, and she cries out above you.
"Oh my god, right there," Haewon gasps, one hand leaving the headboard to tangle in your hair. "Your fingers, your tongue, it's too much but also not enough."
"Greedy," Sullyoon observes, but there's affection in her voice. "I like it. Tell him exactly what you want, Haewon."
"I want—" Haewon starts, then moans when you suck her clit particularly hard. "I want your tongue faster. And your fingers deeper. And I want you to not stop, ever."
You hum your agreement, picking up the pace of both your tongue and fingers. Haewon's thighs are trembling on either side of your head, clenching and unclenching, and you can feel how close she's getting by the way her pussy keeps fluttering around your fingers.
"He's getting harder," Sullyoon notes, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock. "I think he really likes hearing you talk, Haewon. Likes knowing he's making you feel good."
"He's making me feel incredible," Haewon confirms, her hips rolling in time with your tongue. "I've never—god, no one's ever eaten me out like this before."
That makes you feel absurdly proud, and you double your efforts, determined to ruin her for anyone else. Your tongue works her clit relentlessly while your fingers fuck into her, and you can taste how wet she is, feel it coating your whole lower face.
Sullyoon goes back to sucking you, and this time she brings her other hand into play, cupping your balls and rolling them gently. The added sensation makes your hips buck up involuntarily, and she pulls off with a gasp.
"Careful," she warns, but she's smiling. "I know you're enjoying yourself but try to stay still."
"Hard to stay still when you're doing that with your mouth," you point out.
"Good," Sullyoon says smugly. "That's the point."
She licks a long stripe up your length, her eyes locked on what she can see of your face past Haewon's body. "You look good like this," she says. "Covered in Haewon's pussy, your cock in my mouth. This is exactly where you should be."
"Couldn't agree more," you manage, and then you're back to focusing entirely on Haewon, your tongue circling her clit in tight circles while your fingers pump steadily.
"This is so hot," Haewon says, and when you glance up you can see she's watching Sullyoon work your cock. "Watching Sully suck you while you eat me out. I can't believe we're doing this."
"Better get used to it," Sullyoon says before taking you back into her mouth. She hollows her cheeks and sucks hard, and the sensation makes you roll your eyes.
"You two are going to kill me," you say when you pull back for air, your jaw already starting to ache but in the best way. "This is insane."
"You said you could handle us both," Sullyoon reminds you, her hand still stroking your cock slowly. "Don't tell me you're tapping out already."
"Not even close," you shoot back. "I'm just saying you're both incredible and I'm a lucky bastard."
"Damn right you are," Sullyoon agrees, and then she's taking you deep again, her throat working around you in a way that makes your vision blur.
Haewon's getting more vocal now, her breathing coming in short gasps and whimpers. "Don't stop," she keeps repeating. "Please don't stop, feels so good, your mouth is so good."
You have no intention of stopping. You're completely focused on her pleasure, on learning every little thing that makes her moan louder or grip your hair harder. You discover she likes it when you flatten your tongue and press hard against her clit, when you curl your fingers just right inside her.
"Talk to me," you say against her pussy. "Tell me what you need."
"Just—just like that," Haewon gasps. "Exactly like that, don't change anything."
So you maintain that exact rhythm, that exact pressure, giving her exactly what she's asking for. Meanwhile, Sullyoon is being more adventurous with your cock, taking you deep and holding you there until she needs air, then pulling off to lick and suck at just the tip.
"You're so responsive," Sullyoon comments, her lips brushing against your cock as she speaks. "Every time I do this—" she swirls her tongue around the head "—your whole body tenses. It's fun to watch."
"Glad I'm entertaining," you murmurs.
"Very entertaining," Sullyoon confirms. "Both of you are. Haewon's face when you do something she likes, the way you keep making these desperate sounds; it's all very hot."
"You're one to talk," you shoot back. "You're the one who seems to be really enjoying having my cock in your mouth."
"I am," she agrees readily. "It's a nice cock. Good size, good shape. And you taste good, like I said."
This whole conversation is surreal, dirty and casual at the same time, and it's driving you wild. The way they can switch between playful banter and intense sexuality, the way they're both so comfortable with this whole situation now that the initial awkwardness has worn off.
You keep working Haewon with your mouth and fingers, finding that perfect rhythm that has her shaking above you. Your tongue moves in quick, firm strokes against her clit while your fingers pump steadily inside her, curling to hit that spot that makes her whole body jerk. She's so wet now that you can hear it, the obscene sound of your fingers moving in and out of her mixing with her desperate moans.
Sullyoon is getting more aggressive with your cock, taking you deeper and faster, her head bobbing with increasing urgency. She's using both hands now, one wrapped around the base to stroke what doesn't fit in her mouth, the other still playing with your balls. The combination of sensations is overwhelming, making it hard to think, hard to focus on anything except the pleasure coursing through your body.
But you force yourself to stay focused on Haewon, determined to make her fall apart on your face. You can feel her getting closer, the way her thighs are trembling harder, the way her pussy is clenching rhythmically around your fingers. Her movements are getting more erratic, less coordinated, and her moans are higher pitched, more desperate.
"Oh god, oh god," Haewon gasps, her grip on your hair almost painful now. "I'm close, I'm so close."
"Make her cum," Sullyoon orders, pulling off your cock just long enough to speak. "Eat her pussy good. Make her scream."
Fuck, you love when Sullyoon bosses you around like that. There's something about her taking charge, telling you exactly what to do, that makes your cock twitch and your brain go fuzzy. You moan your agreement against Haewon's pussy, the vibration making her cry out.
"Yes," Sullyoon says with satisfaction, and then her mouth is back on your cock, sucking you with renewed intensity.
You redouble your efforts on Haewon, your tongue moving faster, your fingers pumping harder. You suck her clit into your mouth and flick your tongue over it rapidly, exactly the way you've learned she likes. Your other hand grips her ass hard, holding her in place so you can devour her properly.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna—" Haewon's words dissolve into a long, keening moan as her orgasm hits her. Her whole body goes rigid for a moment, every muscle tensing, and then she's shaking violently, her pussy clenching hard around your fingers as she comes.
You don't let up, working her through it, your tongue gentler now but still moving, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible. She's gasping and whimpering above you, her thighs squeezing your head so hard you can barely hear anything except her moans and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Sullyoon's mouth is absolutely relentless on your cock, taking you deep and sucking hard like she's trying to pull your soul out through your dick. The wet sounds she's making are obscene, and combined with the taste of Haewon's release on your tongue and the feeling of her still trembling on top of you, you're getting dangerously close to the edge yourself.
But you hold back, forcing yourself to stay in control, to focus on anything except the incredible sensation of Sullyoon's mouth. You think about your constitutional law homework, about that case you need to read for class, about literally anything that isn't the two gorgeous women currently using your body for their pleasure.
Haewon finally pulls away from your face, her movements shaky and uncoordinated. She practically collapses onto the bed beside you, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Her thighs are still trembling, and there's this dazed, satisfied expression on her face that makes you feel incredibly smug.
"Holy shit," Haewon breathes out, one hand pressed to her chest. "That was—I've never—holy shit."
Sullyoon pulls off your cock, and you can finally see her face properly. Her lips are swollen and slick, her pupils blown wide with arousal, and there's this satisfaction in her expression. She looks at Haewon's wrecked state and then at you, clearly pleased with the results.
"Good job," she says to you, like you're a student who just aced an exam. Then she's moving, crawling up your body with clear intent in her eyes.
Before you can ask what she's doing, Sullyoon's mouth is on yours, kissing you hard and hungry. You can taste yourself on her tongue, salty and bitter, but that's not what she's after. She licks into your mouth, tasting Haewon's release on your lips, on your tongue, moaning at the flavor.
It's so fucking dirty, so raw and filthy that it makes your head spin. Sullyoon's kissing you like she's trying to consume you, her tongue sliding against yours, lapping at the inside of your mouth to taste every trace of Haewon. Your jaw is slick with Haewon's arousal, your chin and cheeks covered in her wetness, and Sullyoon licks at that too, her tongue trailing along your jaw.
"Fuck, you taste like her," Sullyoon moans against your mouth, and then she's kissing you again. "You taste like both of us now."
Your hands come up to grab her waist, pulling her closer, and the kiss gets even messier. Saliva and arousal mixing between you, tongues sliding together without any finesse, just pure need and desire. It's not pretty or romantic, it's raw and absolutely fucking perfect.
"That's so hot," Haewon says from beside you. "You two kissing like that, tasting me on his mouth. God, this whole night is insane."
Sullyoon breaks the kiss to look at Haewon, and there's this wild glint in her eyes. "Come here," she says, reaching for her friend. "You should taste yourself too."
Haewon's eyes go wide but she obeys, crawling over to join you two. Sullyoon kisses her, sharing the taste that's still on her own tongue, and Haewon makes this surprised sound that quickly turns into a moan.
You watch them kiss over you, your cock still achingly hard and pressed against Sullyoon's thigh. The sight of them together is even better than you imagined, the way their lips move against each other, the way Haewon's hand comes up to cup Sullyoon's face.
When they break apart, all three of you are breathing hard. Your face is a mess, covered in Haewon's arousal and now wet from Sullyoon's kisses. Your cock is throbbing, demanding attention, but you're almost glad you didn't finish yet because it means this can keep going.
"Fuck," you say eloquently, because your brain has officially turned to mush. "You two are going to be the death of me."
"Not yet," Sullyoon says with a wicked grin. "We're not nearly done with you.”
You've been letting them take the lead, letting Sullyoon boss you around and control the pace, but now you decide it's time to take some of that control back. Your hands grip Sullyoon's waist firmly, and before she can react you're flipping her over, maneuvering her onto her back on the bed. She lets out this surprised gasp, her eyes going wide as she looks up at you.
"My turn," you say as you position yourself between her legs.
Sullyoon's cheeks are flushed, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, and she looks absolutely stunning like this. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, those perfect small breasts moving with each breath, and when you look down you can see how wet she is. Her black lace panties are completely soaked through, the fabric clinging to her pussy.
"About time," Sullyoon says, trying to maintain that commanding tone even though you can hear the breathlessness in her voice. "I was wondering when you were going to actually fuck me."
"Patience," you tell her, throwing her own word back at her, and you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties. She lifts her hips to help you slide them down her long legs, and then she's completely bare beneath you.
Haewon shifts on the bed, moving to lie down beside Sullyoon, propping herself up on one elbow so she can watch. Her other hand comes up to rest on Sullyoon's stomach, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the smooth skin.
"You're so beautiful, Sully," Haewon says softly. "I don't think I've ever told you that enough."
Sullyoon turns her head to look at her friend, and something tender passes between them. "You're beautiful too," she says, and then gasps when Haewon's hand trails up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple.
You're watching all of this, your cock achingly hard, and you wrap your hand around yourself, stroking slowly. You position yourself at Sullyoon's entrance, the head of your cock just barely touching her pussy, and you can feel how wet she is even without pushing inside yet.
"Please," Sullyoon says, and her hips lift slightly, trying to take you in, but you pull back just enough to keep her wanting.
"Please what?" you ask, because you want to hear her say it. You want this woman who's been so commanding all night to beg for your cock.
"Please fuck me," she says, and there's no hesitation, no embarrassment. Just pure need. "I need you inside me. Now."
"Not yet," you say, and you rub your cock along her slit, coating yourself in her wetness. The head bumps against her clit and she whimpers, her thighs falling open wider. "Tell me how bad you want it."
"I want it so bad," Sullyoon moans, and one of her hands comes down to grip your forearm, her nails digging in. "I've been wet since you started kissing me. I need to feel you stretching me open. Please."
You continue teasing her, sliding your cock through her folds, getting yourself slick with her arousal. Every time the head catches at her entrance, she tenses up in anticipation, and every time you pull away she makes this frustrated sound that goes straight to your ego.
"You're being cruel," Sullyoon accuses.
"You like it," you counter, and you're not wrong. You can feel how much wetter she's getting, can see the way her pupils are blown wide.
Haewon's hand is still on Sullyoon's breast, kneading and playing with her nipple, and her eyes are fixed on where your cock is teasing Sullyoon's entrance. "This is so hot," she breathes out. "Watching you tease her. She looks like she's about to lose her mind."
"I am losing my mind," Sullyoon confirms. "Please, please, I'm begging you. Fuck me. I need it."
The sound of Sullyoon begging, this strong, commanding woman reduced to pleading for your cock, is doing amazing things for your ego. You can't hold back anymore. You line yourself up properly and then you're pushing inside, sliding into her tight, wet heat in one long, slow thrust.
"Oh fuck," Sullyoon gasps, her back arching off the bed. Her pussy clenches around you, so tight and hot that it takes all your self-control not to start pounding into her immediately. "Yes, yes, finally."
You bottom out inside her, your hips flush against hers, and you both just stay there for a moment. You're buried as deep as you can go, and you can feel every flutter of her inner walls around you. She's so wet that you slid in easily despite how tight she is, and the sensation is overwhelming.
"You feel so good," you groan, your hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. "So fucking tight and wet for me."
"All for you," Sullyoon confirms, and then her legs wrap around your waist, her heels digging into your lower back. "Now move. Fuck me properly."
You start to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip is inside, and then sliding back in. You establish a steady rhythm, not too fast yet, wanting to savor this. Every thrust punches a little gasp out of Sullyoon, and you can feel her nails scratching down your back.
"Look at you," you say, looking down at where you're joined, watching your cock disappear into her pussy over and over. "Taking my cock so well. You look so beautiful like this, Sullyoon."
"She does," Haewon agrees, and her hand trails down Sullyoon's stomach to where you're fucking into her. "You both look beautiful. This is so perfect."
Haewon's fingers find Sullyoon's clit, rubbing it in small circles, and Sullyoon cries out at the added stimulation. "Oh god, Haewon, yes, just like that."
You pick up the pace, fucking into her harder now, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Sullyoon's breasts bounce with each thrust, and you can't help but lean down to capture one nipple in your mouth, sucking hard.
"Fuck, don't stop," Sullyoon moans. "Both of you, don't stop."
You fuck into her steadily, angling your hips to hit that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk, while Haewon continues working her clit. The combined stimulation has Sullyoon writhing beneath you, her moans getting louder and more desperate.
"You're so gorgeous," you tell her again, pulling back to look at her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her mouth open, and there's a light sheen of sweat making her skin glow. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
You start pounding into Sullyoon with deep, powerful strokes that have her gasping and moaning beneath you. Her pussy is gripping you so tight, clenching around your cock with each thrust. Haewon is watching everything with wide, fascinated eyes, her hand still working Sullyoon's clit in those perfect circles.
"You know what's funny?" you say to Haewon. "Your friend here, she loves to act all tough and commanding. Always bossing people around, always in control."
Sullyoon opens her eyes to glare at you, but it's half-hearted at best. She's too far gone to maintain that icy composure, too lost in the pleasure of your cock stretching her open.
"But when I'm fucking her like this," you continue, punctuating your words with a particularly hard thrust that makes Sullyoon cry out, "she turns into a needy little slut. And she fucking loves it."
"I—" Sullyoon starts to protest, but then you bring your hand up to wrap around her throat. Not squeezing yet, just resting there, and you watch as her eyes roll back slightly.
"See?" you say to Haewon with a grin. "Watch what happens."
You apply just the lightest pressure to Sullyoon's throat, your fingers pressing against the sides where you know it restricts blood flow without cutting off her air. It's a careful balance, something you've learned with her over the past few months, and the effect is immediate. Sullyoon's whole body melts beneath you, her legs falling open even wider, a long moan escaping her lips.
"Oh my god," Haewon breathes out, her eyes fixed on your hand around Sullyoon's throat. "She really does like that."
"She loves it," you confirm, fucking into her harder. "Don't you, Sullyoon? You love it when I choke you while I'm buried deep in your pussy. Love being my little whore."
"Yes," Sullyoon gasps out, and her voice is slightly strained from the pressure on her throat. "Fuck yes, I love it."
"Tell Haewon," you command, squeezing just a bit tighter. "Tell your best friend how much you love being used like this."
Sullyoon's eyes find Haewon's, and there's something vulnerable in her expression that you've rarely seen. "I love it," she moans. "I love when he chokes me. When he calls me names. When he fucks me like I'm nothing but a hole for his cock."
"Holy shit," Haewon whispers, and you can see her thighs pressing together, clearly turned on by watching her friend fall apart. "I've never seen you like this, Sully. You're always so in control."
"Not with him," Sullyoon admits, and her hands come up to grip your wrist, not to pull you away but to hold you there. "Tighter. Squeeze tighter."
You oblige, increasing the pressure on her throat while maintaining that punishing pace with your hips. Sullyoon's mouth falls open in a silent scream, her eyes glazing over with pleasure. Her pussy is absolutely drenched now, making obscene wet sounds every time you thrust into her. "That's it," you growl, leaning down so your face is close to hers. "Take my cock like a good little slut. Show Haewon how much you need this."
"I need it so bad," Sullyoon gasps. "Need you to fuck me harder. Use me. Ruin me."
Haewon's fingers are still on Sullyoon's clit, rubbing faster now, clearly inspired by what she's witnessing. "This is so hot," she says. "You're both so hot. The way you're fucking her, the way she's taking it. God, Sully, you look so beautiful like this."
"She does, doesn't she?" you agree, releasing Sullyoon's throat just enough to let blood rush back, making her gasp and shudder. "Beautiful and desperate and absolutely wrecked. This is what she needs. To be held down and fucked hard and told what a perfect little whore she is."
"Yes, yes," Sullyoon chants, her hips rising to meet your thrusts. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
You start fucking her even faster, your hand tightening on her throat again. The combination of the choking and the relentless pounding has Sullyoon absolutely losing her mind. Her nails are digging into your forearm hard enough to draw blood, and her whole body is trembling beneath you.
"Look at how well she takes it," you say to Haewon, who can't seem to tear her eyes away from the scene. "How her pussy just swallows my cock. She's made for this. Made to be fucked rough and used."
"I've never heard her talk like this," Haewon says in wonder. "Never seen her be so... submissive. She's always the one in charge of everything."
"Not in bed," you tell her, your grip on Sullyoon's throat firm. "In bed, she's mine. Aren't you, Sullyoon? Tell Haewon who you belong to."
"Yours," Sullyoon gasps out, and there's no hesitation. "I'm yours. Your whore. Your slut. Whatever you want me to be."
"Fuck," Haewon breathes, and her hand on Sullyoon's clit is moving frantically now. "This is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."
You can feel yourself getting close again, the pressure building at the base of your spine, but you force it back. Not yet. Not until Sullyoon falls apart completely. You adjust your angle slightly, making sure you're hitting that spot deep inside her with every thrust, and the change makes her cry out.
"Right there," Sullyoon moans, her eyes rolling back. "Oh fuck, right there, don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it," you say, and you squeeze her throat tighter while pounding into her with everything you have.
Haewon is completely transfixed, watching where you're joined, watching your hand on Sullyoon's throat, watching the way her friend's face is contorted in pleasure. "You're taking him so well, Sully," she says encouragingly. "Look how good you look getting fucked like this. So pretty and desperate."
"She's perfect," you agree. "Perfect little slut. Taking my cock exactly how she's supposed to."
Sullyoon's whole body is taut, every muscle tensed, and you can tell she's close. Her pussy is fluttering around your cock, clenching and releasing rhythmically, and her breathing is coming in short, desperate gasps.
"Beg for it," you order, releasing her throat just enough for her to speak clearly. "Beg me to let you cum."
"Please," Sullyoon gasps immediately. "Please let me cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything. Please."
"Anything?" you repeat, slowing your thrusts just slightly to torture her.
"Anything," she confirms desperately. "Whatever you want. Just please let me cum. I can't hold it much longer."
"I love seeing you like this," Haewon says. "So needy. So beautiful. Please let her cum, she looks like she's about to explode."
You look down at Sullyoon, at this gorgeous woman who's usually so composed and in control, now completely undone beneath you. Her makeup is smudged, her hair is a mess, her skin is flushed and sweaty, and she's never looked more beautiful.
"Not yet," you say, and Sullyoon actually whimpers at your denial. "I want to feel you desperate for it a little longer. Haewon, keep rubbing her clit. Don't stop no matter what happens."
"Okay," Haewon agrees immediately, her fingers working Sullyoon's swollen clit with renewed focus.
You start fucking Sullyoon even harder, your hips snapping forward with brutal force. The bed is creaking beneath you, the headboard starting to bang against the wall, and Sullyoon is crying out with each thrust. Your hand is still on her throat, squeezing just right, and you can feel her pulse racing beneath your fingers.
"You're about to see something beautiful," you tell Haewon, grinning through the exertion. "Watch closely."
"Don't stop," Sullyoon gasps, her hands clutching at anything she can reach. One grabs your shoulder, nails digging in, the other grips the sheets hard. "Please, both of you, don't fucking stop."
Haewon leans down and takes one of Sullyoon's nipples into her mouth, sucking hard while her fingers continue their relentless assault on her clit. The dual stimulation makes Sullyoon's whole body jerk, and you can feel her pussy starting to spasm around your cock.
"That's it," you growl, pounding into her without mercy. "Take it like the desperate little slut you are. Show Haewon how you fall apart on my cock. Show her what a needy whore you become."
"Yes, yes, I'm your whore," Sullyoon moans. "Your dirty little slut. Please, I need to cum so bad."
You can feel it building in her, the way her whole body is trembling, the way her pussy is clenching around you in increasingly rapid pulses. She's right on the edge, teetering, and you know exactly what's about to happen.
"Haewon," you say, keeping your rhythm steady and hard. "Have you ever seen a girl squirt before?"
Haewon pulls off Sullyoon's breast, her eyes wide. "No," she says breathlessly. "Never. Is she going to—"
"Watch," you tell her. "It's fucking beautiful."
"I want to see," Haewon says eagerly, her fingers rubbing Sullyoon's clit even faster. "Come on, Sully. Let go. Show me. I want to see you cum so bad."
The encouragement from both of you is clearly pushing Sullyoon over the edge. Her breathing is ragged, her moans turning into these high-pitched whimpers, and you can feel the tension in her entire body reaching its breaking point.
"Cum for us," Haewon urges, switching to Sullyoon's other breast, sucking and biting at the sensitive flesh. "Cum all over his cock. Please, Sully, I want to see you lose it."
"That's it," you say, your hand tightening on her throat one more time. "Be a good little slut and cum. Soak my cock. Make a fucking mess."
"Oh god, oh god, I'm—" Sullyoon's words cut off in a scream as her orgasm crashes over her. Her whole body goes rigid for a moment, every muscle locked tight, and then she's convulsing beneath you.
And then she's squirting, exactly like you knew she would. Fluid gushes from her pussy, spraying onto your stomach and abs, coating Haewon's hand that's still working her clit. It's not just a little bit either - it's a lot, more than you've ever seen from her before, soaking the sheets beneath her and splashing across both of you.
"Holy shit," Haewon gasps, but she doesn't stop rubbing. She keeps her fingers moving on Sullyoon's clit, and it makes her squirt even more, another wave of fluid spurting out to coat your lower stomach and drip down your thighs.
"Don't stop touching her," you order Haewon, still buried deep inside Sullyoon's spasming pussy. "Keep going. Make her keep cumming."
Haewon obeys, her fingers relentless, and Sullyoon is sobbing now with the intensity of it. Her body can't stop shaking, can't stop releasing, and you can feel her pussy clenching around your cock in waves. More fluid gushes out, running down to soak the bed, getting all over Haewon's hand and wrist.
"That's my good girl," you praise, looking down at Sullyoon's wrecked face. "Look how beautifully you're falling apart. Squirting all over us like the perfect little slut you are."
"Can't—too much—" Sullyoon gasps, but her body keeps responding, keeps cumming, keeps squirting with each stroke of Haewon's fingers.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the spasms start to subside. Sullyoon collapses back onto the bed, completely boneless, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Her thighs are trembling uncontrollably, and there's a huge wet spot on the sheets beneath her.
Haewon pulls her hand away, staring at it in wonder. It's completely soaked, dripping with Sullyoon's release, and her eyes are huge. "Oh my god," she breathes out. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life. Sully, that was incredible."
You slowly pull out of Sullyoon, and she whimpers at the loss. Your stomach and thighs are covered in her cum, and you look down at the mess with satisfaction. Sullyoon's pussy is still twitching, still clenching around nothing, and you can see how swollen and red she is from being fucked so thoroughly.
"Look at the mess she made," you say to Haewon. "All over me, all over you, all over the bed. Such a good girl."
Haewon is still staring at Sullyoon with this symbiosis of awe and arousal. "I didn't know that was real," she says. "I thought it was just something in porn."
"Very real," you confirm. "And she's so fucking good at it."
Sullyoon is still panting, her eyes closed, completely spent. She's never looked more beautiful than she does right now, thoroughly used and satisfied, her skin glowing with sweat.
"Haewon," you say slowly, “clean her up."
Haewon's eyes snap to yours, questioning. "What?"
"You heard me," you say. "Clean up the mess. Lick her thighs, her stomach. Taste what you helped make happen."
For a moment, Haewon hesitates, but then you see the decision form in her eyes. She wants this. She's curious. And fuck if that isn't the hottest thing.
"Okay," Haewon agrees.
You move aside to give her room, positioning yourself at the edge of the bed so you can watch. Your cock is still hard, still aching, covered in Sullyoon's cream, but you ignore it for now. This is more important.
Haewon leans down, starting at Sullyoon's inner thigh. Her tongue comes out, pink and tentative, and she licks a slow stripe up the soft skin. Sullyoon shivers at the contact, and Haewon makes this small sound of surprise.
"How does she taste?" you ask.
"Good," Haewon says, sounding almost surprised. "Really good. Sweet and kind of musky."
She continues her task, licking up Sullyoon's thigh, moving to clean her hip bone, then her lower stomach where some of her release had splashed. She's thorough, her tongue following every trail, and Sullyoon is watching now, her eyes half-lidded with the last traces of arousal despite being completely wrecked.
"That's my good girl," you praise Haewon, and she actually shivers at the words, a pleased smile crossing her face.
She moves lower, licking around Sullyoon's pubic area, getting close to her pussy but not quite touching it yet. Her tongue traces patterns on the smooth skin, cleaning up every drop she can find. Then she moves back to Sullyoon's thighs, spreading them wider to get every bit.
"Such a good girl," you repeat, reaching out to stroke Haewon's hair. "Doing exactly what you're told. Cleaning up your friend so well."
Haewon practically glows at the praise, and she redoubles her efforts. She's more confident now, less hesitant, and the sight of her tongue on Sullyoon's skin is absolutely mesmerizing.
When she's finally done, she sits up and looks at you, her lips wet and shiny. There's this proud expression on her face, like she's waiting for your approval.
"Good girl," you say again, and then you're pulling her in for a kiss. You can taste Sullyoon on her lips, on her tongue, and it makes your cock throb with need. The kiss is deep and thorough, and Haewon melts into it, her hands coming up to grip your shoulders.
When you break apart, all three of you are breathing hard again. Sullyoon is still sprawled on the bed, watching you and Haewon kiss with this satisfied smirk on her face.
"That was perfect," Sullyoon says. "Both of you. That was fucking perfect.”
Sullyoon lets out this breathy laugh from where she's still lying on the bed, her body slowly recovering from that devastating orgasm. "That was fucking amazing," she says. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."
"Told you I could handle both of you," you say with a smug grin, unable to resist the opportunity to gloat. "I'm basically a genius."
"I'm not admitting shit," Sullyoon shoots back, but she's smiling. "Your ego is already big enough without me feeding it."
"That pride won't get you anywhere," you tease, leaning down to kiss her. She meets you halfway, her lips soft and pliant against yours, and the kiss is sweet and affectionate. When you pull back, she's looking at you with this tender expression that she rarely shows anyone.
Haewon shifts closer, wanting in on the moment, and she leans in to kiss Sullyoon too. Their lips meet gently, a contrast to the filthy things that just happened, and you watch with appreciation as they share this soft moment.
When they break apart, Sullyoon's eyes find yours, and there's something serious in her gaze now. "Don't ruin this," she says quietly. "Please. I'm taking a huge leap of faith here. We both are."
"I won't," you promise, and you mean it with everything in you. "I swear, Sullyoon. I'm not going to fuck this up."
She searches your face for a moment, then seems satisfied with what she finds. She turns to Haewon, her hand coming up to cup her friend's cheek. "Are you enjoying this?" she asks. "Really? Because if you're not, if this is too much or too weird—"
"I'm enjoying it," Haewon interrupts. "So much. I've never felt this turned on in my entire life. This is… God, this is perfect."
You and Sullyoon exchange a look, and there's this unspoken agreement that passes between you. Haewon needs attention now. She's been so good, so patient, helping you make Sullyoon fall apart, and now it's her turn to be taken care of.
"Get on all fours, baby," you tell Haewon.
Haewon's eyes go wide, but she obeys immediately, scrambling into position. She's on her hands and knees in the middle of the bed, her back arched beautifully, and the sight of her like this makes your cock throb.
Sullyoon climbs off the bed, still a bit unsteady on her feet, and starts rummaging through your dresser drawers. You watch with interest as she pushes aside clothes and random shit until she finds what she's looking for. She pulls out one of your leather belts with this triumphant smile.
"I'm guessing you haven't used this on her yet?" Sullyoon asks, holding up the belt and running it through her fingers.
"Haven't had the opportunity," you admit, your eyes fixed on where the leather dangles from her hand. "But I've thought about it."
"Of course you have," Sullyoon says with a knowing smirk. "Well, let's give her the full experience."
You move to stand behind Haewon, your hands immediately going to her ass. It's absolutely perfect, round and firm with just enough softness to make you want to sink your teeth into it. Her thick thighs are spread just enough that you can see her pussy, already wet and swollen, and above that her pink asshole is peeking out, winking slightly as she breathes.
"Fuck, look at this ass," you say, squeezing both cheeks appreciatively. "Haewon, you've been hiding this from me under all those baggy clothes."
"It's not that special," Haewon mumbles, her face pressed into the pillow, and you can hear the embarrassment in her voice.
"It's fucking spectacular," Sullyoon corrects, moving to stand beside you. She reaches out to run her hand over Haewon's ass, her fingers tracing the curve. "Your thighs too. God, Haewon, you're so gorgeous."
Haewon makes this pleased sound, and you can see her relaxing under the praise, her body settling into the position more comfortably.
"Get her dripping for me," you tell Sullyoon, stepping back to give her room. "Make her so desperate for my cock that she can't think straight."
"With pleasure," Sullyoon says with this wicked gleam in her eyes.
She drops to her knees behind Haewon, the belt still in one hand, and uses her other hand to spread Haewon's ass cheeks wider. Haewon gasps at the exposure, her whole body tensing for a moment before Sullyoon's tongue makes contact.
"Oh fuck," Haewon moans, her fingers clutching at the sheets. "Sully—"
Sullyoon doesn't waste time with teasing. She dives in, her tongue licking a long stripe from Haewon's clit all the way up through her folds. Haewon's hips jerk back automatically, trying to get more contact, and Sullyoon hums approvingly against her pussy.
You're watching this with rapt attention, your hand wrapped around your cock, stroking slowly. The sight of Sullyoon's face buried between Haewon's ass cheeks, her tongue working Haewon's pussy with obvious enthusiasm - you're so drunk and horny that you don't even remember how things escalated to this point (but you love that it did).
"How does she taste?" you ask.
Sullyoon pulls back just enough to answer, her lips shiny with Haewon's arousal. "Fucking delicious," she says. "Sweet and so wet already."
Then she's back to it, her tongue working Haewon over with clear expertise. She licks and sucks at Haewon's pussy, occasionally moving higher to circle around her asshole, which makes Haewon cry out and press back for more.
"Oh my god, Sullyoon," Haewon gasps, her arms starting to shake. "That feels so good. Your tongue is perfect. Don't stop."
Sullyoon has no intention of stopping. She eats Haewon out with enthusiasm, her free hand coming up to slide two fingers into Haewon's pussy while her tongue focuses on her clit. The dual stimulation has Haewon absolutely losing it, her moans getting louder and more desperate.
"Look at your asshole," Sullyoon says, pulling back slightly. "It keeps winking at me. Have you ever had anything in here?"
"No," Haewon admits breathlessly. "Never."
"We should change that sometime," Sullyoon muses, and then her tongue is circling Haewon's rim, teasing it.
"Oh fuck," Haewon practically screams, her whole body jerking. "That's—I've never—"
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Sullyoon asks, and then she's pressing the tip of her tongue against the tight ring of muscle, not penetrating but applying pressure.
Haewon's response is completely incoherent, just a string of moans and gasps as Sullyoon continues to work her over. Her fingers are pumping steadily in and out of Haewon's pussy, and every time she circles her asshole with her tongue, Haewon's whole body shudders.
"She's getting so wet," Sullyoon observes, pulling her fingers out to show you. They're absolutely coated in Haewon's arousal, strings of it connecting them. "Look at this. She's fucking drenched."
"Perfect," you say, stroking yourself faster. "Get her ready for me. I want her begging for my cock."
Sullyoon goes back to work on Haewon with this intensity that's absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Her face is buried between those thick thighs, and you can see her tongue working, alternating between licking Haewon's pussy and paying attention to that tight pink asshole that keeps clenching and unclenching with each wave of pleasure.
"Oh god, oh god," Haewon moans. "I've never—no one's ever touched me there before."
"Is your tight little asshole virgin, princess?" Sullyoon asks, teasing, pulling back just enough to speak before diving right back in. Her tongue circles Haewon's rim again, slower this time, more deliberate, and Haewon's whole body shudders. “How does it feel to have my warm, wet tongue playing with it for the first time?”
"Yes," Haewon confirms breathlessly. "It's so… It's so weird but it feels so good."
You're standing there stroking your cock, watching Sullyoon eat Haewon's ass like it's her favorite meal. Haewon's pussy is getting impossibly wetter, arousal literally dripping down her inner thighs, and you can see how swollen and flushed she is. Every time Sullyoon's tongue presses against her asshole, more wetness leaks from her pussy, coating everything.
"Look at how much you're dripping," you say, moving closer. "Your pussy is fucking soaked, baby. All from having your ass eaten."
"Can't help it," Haewon whimpers. "It feels too good. Her tongue is—oh fuck—"
Sullyoon's tongue is pressing more firmly against Haewon's asshole now, the tip actually breaching that tight ring of muscle just slightly. Not enough to really penetrate, but enough to make Haewon's legs start shaking. Sullyoon's face is a mess too, covered in Haewon's arousal, her chin and cheeks shiny with it, but she doesn't seem to care at all. If anything, she seems to be enjoying it as much as Haewon is.
"You taste so good here," Sullyoon murmurs against Haewon's skin. "So clean and tight. I could eat your ass for hours."
"Oh my god," Haewon gasps, her hands clutching the sheets. "Sully, that's so dirty."
"You love it though," Sullyoon says, and she brings her fingers back into play, sliding three of them into Haewon's pussy while her tongue continues working her asshole. "I can feel how much you love it. Your pussy just clenched around my fingers so hard."
Haewon can only moan in response, completely lost in the sensations. Her asshole is getting drooly too now, relaxing under Sullyoon's attention, and you can see it glistening with Sullyoon's saliva mixed with Haewon's own wetness that's been dripping down.
"Fuck, look at that," you breathe out, your hand working your cock faster. "Your asshole looks so good like this, Haewon. All wet and pink and begging for attention."
"Maybe one day we should try putting something in here," Sullyoon suggests casually, like she's not currently tongue-fucking Haewon's ass. "Start small, work our way up. Eventually get you ready to take his cock."
"Oh fuck," Haewon moans at just the thought, her hips pushing back against Sullyoon's face. "I don't know if I could—"
"You could," Sullyoon assures her, punctuating her words with long, slow licks. "We'd take our time. Make sure you're ready. And then he'd fuck your ass while I play with your pussy. Would you like that?"
"Yes," Haewon admits. "Fuck yes, I think I'd like that a lot."
"Good girl," Sullyoon praises, and she redoubles her efforts. Her tongue is working Haewon's asshole with this perfect rhythm, circling and pressing and occasionally pushing just slightly inside, while her fingers continue to pump into her pussy.
You can see Haewon's thighs trembling, can hear how her breathing is getting more erratic. The combination of Sullyoon's tongue on her ass and fingers in her pussy is clearly driving her insane, building her up to something intense.
"She's so responsive here," Sullyoon says with this note of wonder in her voice. "Every time I lick her asshole, her pussy clenches around my fingers. It's fucking beautiful."
"Keep going," you encourage, still stroking yourself. "Make her a mess. I want her desperate for my cock."
Sullyoon takes that as a challenge, and her tongue gets more aggressive. She's really eating Haewon's ass now, her tongue pressing firmly against the tight muscle, working to relax it further. Haewon's asshole is so slick with saliva now, and every time Sullyoon's tongue breaches it just slightly, Haewon lets out these high-pitched whimpers that go straight to your cock.
"Please," Haewon starts begging. "Please, I need more. I need to be filled. My pussy is so empty."
"But we're not done with your ass yet," Sullyoon teases, and she actually pushes her tongue inside, just the tip, and Haewon nearly screams.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, that's—" Haewon can't even finish her sentence, too overwhelmed by the sensation.
Sullyoon continues like this for several more minutes, alternating between eating Haewon's pussy and paying attention to her ass, until Haewon is literally a trembling, begging mess. Her arousal has soaked the sheets beneath her, her thighs are shaking uncontrollably, and she's making these desperate sounds that are barely human.
Finally, Sullyoon pulls back, and you can see how wrecked she looks. Her face is absolutely covered in Haewon's wetness, her lips swollen and red, and there's this satisfied smirk on her face.
"She's all yours," Sullyoon says, moving aside to give you space. "I got her nice and ready for you."
You don't waste any time moving into position behind Haewon. Your cock is achingly hard, and you rub it through her folds, coating yourself in her arousal. The head bumps against her clit and she cries out, her hips pushing back desperately.
"Please," Haewon begs. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad."
"Beg better than that," you say, continuing to tease her entrance. "Tell me exactly what you want."
"I want your cock inside me," Haewon gasps. "I want you to fill my pussy up and fuck me hard. Please, I've been so good, I've been patient. I need it so bad it hurts."
Sullyoon moves to stand beside you, the belt still in her hand. She's watching Haewon with this predatory expression, clearly enjoying seeing her friend so desperate.
"I think she's earned it," Sullyoon says. "She's been such a good girl. Look how wet she is for you."
You line yourself up properly and then you're pushing inside, sliding into Haewon's tight, wet heat in one long thrust. She's even tighter than Sullyoon, gripping your cock like a vice, and the sensation makes your eyes roll back.
"Oh fuck," Haewon cries out, her back arching beautifully. "Yes, yes, finally. You feel so good inside me.”
You start fucking Haewon with deep, powerful strokes, your hands gripping her hips so hard you know you're leaving marks. But she doesn't seem to mind at all; if anything, she pushes back to meet your thrusts, taking you as deep as she can. This position is absolutely perfect for her, the arch of her back making her ass look even more incredible, and the way her pussy grips your cock with each thrust is driving you insane.
"Fuck, you feel so good," you groan, watching your cock disappear into her over and over. "So tight and wet. You were made for this, weren't you?"
"Yes," Haewon moans. "Made for your cock. It feels so good, so full."
Sullyoon is standing beside you, watching with that calculating expression, the belt dangling from her hand. You can see the wheels turning in her head, and then without any warning at all, she brings the belt down across Haewon's ass with a sharp crack. The sound echoes through the room, and Haewon's whole body jerks forward with the impact. For a second you think maybe it was too much, but then Haewon lets out this long, drawn-out moan that's pure pleasure.
"Oh fuck," Haewon gasps, and you can feel her pussy clench around your cock. "Do that again."
Sullyoon grins wickedly, clearly pleased with the reaction. "You like that?" she asks, running her hand over the red mark that's already forming on Haewon's pale skin. "You like being spanked?"
"Yes," Haewon admits breathlessly. "I love it."
"Good," Sullyoon says, and she brings the belt down again, this time on the other cheek. Another sharp crack, another red mark blooming across that perfect ass, and another desperate moan from Haewon.
You keep fucking her through it, maintaining that steady, hard rhythm, and every time the belt connects with her skin, her pussy clenches around you impossibly tight.
"I think our little girl needs some structure," Sullyoon comments, "don't you think?"
"Definitely," you agree, catching on to what she's doing. "She's been such a needy little thing all night."
"That's because she needs a mommy and a daddy to take care of her," Sullyoon continues, bringing the belt down again. The crack is louder this time, and Haewon's arms nearly give out. "Isn't that right, baby?"
"Yes," Haewon whimpers. "I need you both. Need mommy and daddy."
Sullyoon catches your eye and there's this shared understanding between you - you're going to absolutely wreck Haewon together, give her everything she needs and more.
"That's my good girl," Sullyoon coos, even as she brings the belt down again. "Admitting what you need. Now, are you going to be obedient? Are you going to take what we give you?"
"Yes, mommy," Haewon gasps. "I'll be good. I promise I'll be so good."
"That's what I like to hear," Sullyoon says approvingly. She spanks Haewon again, and the red marks are really starting to show now, bright against her pale skin. "Look at how pretty your ass looks all marked up. Daddy's cock stretching your pussy, mommy's belt marking your ass. This is exactly where you belong."
"Yes," Haewon agrees, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "This is where I belong. With both of you. Using me however you want."
You adjust your angle slightly, making sure you're hitting that spot deep inside her that makes her see stars, and the change in position makes Haewon cry out. "That's it, baby," you encourage. "Take daddy's cock like a good girl."
Sullyoon brings the belt down in a series of quick strikes, alternating between cheeks, and each one makes Haewon's pussy clench around you. The combination of pain and pleasure is clearly overwhelming her, and you can feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating your cock and dripping down her thighs.
"Count them," Sullyoon orders suddenly. "Count each one and thank mommy for it."
The next strike comes down and Haewon gasps out, "One! Thank you, mommy!"
"Good girl," Sullyoon praises, and delivers another.
"Two! Thank you, mommy!"
You're fucking her harder now, timing your thrusts with the strikes of the belt, creating this perfect rhythm that has Haewon absolutely losing her mind. Every time the belt connects, you're buried deep inside her, and the dual sensation is clearly pushing her toward something intense.
"Three! Thank you, mommy!" Haewon's voice is getting higher with each count.
"Look at how well she's taking it," Sullyoon observes, running her free hand over the red marks. "Such a perfect little slut for us. Both holes used, her ass all marked up. You're doing so well, princess. Now pick up where you left off," Sullyoon orders, slamming the belt against Haewon's ass once more.
"Four! Thank you, mommy!" Another strike, harder this time. "Five! Thank you, mommy!"
Haewon's whole body is trembling now, caught between your relentless fucking and Sullyoon's spanking. Her ass is beautifully red, the marks standing out stark against her pale skin, and you can feel her pussy starting to flutter around your cock in that telltale way.
"She's getting close," you tell Sullyoon. "I can feel it."
"Not yet," Sullyoon says firmly, bringing the belt down again. "You don't get to cum until we say so. Understand?"
"Six! Thank you, mommy!" Haewon sobs out. "Please, I need—"
"You need what we give you," Sullyoon interrupts, another sharp strike. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"Seven! Thank you, mommy!" She's so wet that you can hear it, the obscene sound of your fucking mixing with the crack of the belt and Haewon's increasingly desperate moans. "Eight! Thank you, mommy!"
"That's my good girl," Sullyoon praises, and her free hand comes around to find Haewon's clit, rubbing it in quick circles. "Taking everything we give you so perfectly. Daddy's big cock filling your pussy, mommy's belt making your ass nice and red. You love this, don't you?" Before Haewon can even open her mouth, the belt lands on her ass in the spot that's already starting to bruise purple from so many hits in the same place.
"Nine! Thank you, mommy! Yes, I love it so much!"
Another strike, the hardest yet.
"Ten! Thank you, mommy!"
"I think that's enough for now," Sullyoon decides, tossing the belt aside and moving to kneel beside the bed so she's face level with Haewon. "You've been such a good girl. Such an obedient little thing. Now daddy's going to fuck you until you can't think anymore, and mommy's going to watch and tell you how pretty you look taking it."
You grab Haewon's hair, wrapping it around your fist and pulling her head back as you thrust deep inside her. The angle makes her back arch even more dramatically, and you can see the way her body trembles with each powerful stroke. Your other hand grips her hip bruisingly tight, using the leverage to fuck her harder, faster, giving her exactly what she needs.
"Yes, yes, daddy!" Haewon cries out. "Fuck me harder! Please!"
Sullyoon picks up the belt again, clearly not done yet, and brings it down across Haewon's already reddened ass with a loud crack. The impact makes Haewon's whole body jolt forward, taking your cock even deeper, and the sound that comes out of her mouth is pure ecstasy.
"Such a greedy little slut," Sullyoon says. "Always wanting more. Never satisfied."
"I can't help it," Haewon sobs, and there are actual tears streaming down her face now, but they're tears of overwhelming pleasure. "I've never felt anything like this before. It's so much. Too much. But I don't want it to stop."
You yank her hair harder, forcing her to look at Sullyoon who's moved back to stand beside you. "Tell mommy what you need," you order, your hips never stopping their relentless rhythm.
"I need mommy to keep spanking me," Haewon gasps out. "Need daddy's cock so deep I can't think. Need both of you to use me. I'm yours. Completely yours."
"Fuck," Sullyoon breathes. She brings the belt down again, and again, creating a rhythm that matches your thrusts. Every time you bottom out inside Haewon, the belt connects with her ass, and the synchronized sensation has Haewon absolutely losing her mind.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy," Haewon chants. "So deep. You're so deep inside me. I can feel you everywhere."
"Good," you growl, pulling her hair so hard her back is nearly vertical. "Want you to feel me for days. Every time you sit down, you'll remember how I fucked you. How we both used you."
"Yes," Haewon agrees desperately. "Want to remember. Want to feel it forever."
Sullyoon is watching Haewon's face with rapt attention. "Look at her," she says to you, bringing the belt down particularly hard. "She's completely gone. Never seen her like this before. So desperate and needy."
"I am," Haewon admits shamelessly. "I'm so desperate for you both. For mommy and daddy. Never want this to end."
"Tell us more," Sullyoon demands, her free hand coming up to grab Haewon's jaw, forcing her to maintain eye contact. "Tell us exactly how it feels."
"It feels like I'm being split open," Haewon gasps, her words punctuated by your thrusts. "Like daddy's cock is reaching places no one's ever touched. And when mommy spanks me, it hurts so good. The pain just makes everything else feel better. I'm so full and so empty at the same time. I need more. Always more."
You release her hair only to wrap your hand around her throat instead, pulling her upper body back against your chest while you continue to fuck her. The new angle lets you go even deeper, and Haewon's scream is muffled by Sullyoon's hand clamping over her mouth.
"Shhh," Sullyoon warns, though she's grinning. "The neighbors will hear what a desperate little slut you are." Haewon whimpers against Sullyoon's palm, and you can feel her pussy clenching rhythmically around your cock. She's so close, you can tell, teetering right on that edge, but you're not ready to let her fall yet.
"Not yet," you remind her, your hand on her throat tightening just slightly. "You don't cum until we say so."
Sullyoon removes her hand from Haewon's mouth, and the sounds that pour out are absolutely filthy. "Please, please, mommy, daddy, I need to cum so bad. I'll do anything. Anything you want. Just please let me cum."
"Anything?" Sullyoon repeats, bringing the belt down hard enough to make Haewon yelp. "That's a dangerous promise, baby girl."
"I mean it," Haewon insists, her whole body shaking. "I'm yours. Both of yours. Whatever you want from me, it's yours. My mouth, my pussy, my ass. Everything. Just please, please let me cum."
"She's begging so pretty," you observe, your grip on her throat loosening just enough to let her breathe easier. "What do you think, mommy? Has she earned it yet?"
"Not quite," Sullyoon answers. "I want to see her really desperate first. Want to watch her completely fall apart."
"No," Haewon whines. "Please, I'm already falling apart. Can't take much more."
"You can take what we give you," Sullyoon says firmly, and she brings the belt down in a series of rapid strikes that have Haewon sobbing and writhing. "You can take it because you're our good girl. Because this is what you were made for. To be used by both of us."
"Yes, yes, I was made for this," Haewon agrees frantically. "Made to be yours. To take whatever you give me. I love it. I love you both. Love being your good girl."
"We love you too," you tell her. "Our perfect little girl. Taking everything so well."
"Love you so much," Sullyoon adds, softer now even as she continues with the belt. "You're doing so good, princess. Making mommy so proud."
Haewon is a mess now, tears and drool running down her face, her makeup completely ruined, her hair wild from your grip. Her ass is bright red, covered in marks from the belt, and her pussy is absolutely drenched, coating your cock and dripping onto the already soaked sheets. She's never looked more beautiful.
"More," she begs, even though you can tell she's barely holding on. "Need more. Harder, daddy. Spank me harder, mommy. Use me. Ruin me. Make me yours forever."
"Already ours," you remind her, your hips snapping forward with brutal force. "Always been ours. From the moment we both met you."
"Say it again," Sullyoon demands, bringing the belt down hard. "Tell us who you belong to."
"Yours!" Haewon practically screams. "I belong to mommy and daddy! Only you two! Forever!"
Sullyoon's eyes meet yours over Haewon's trembling body, and there's this moment of perfect understanding. This beautiful, desperate woman between you is yours. Completely, utterly yours. And you're never letting her go.
"Keep fucking her," Sullyoon says to you. "I want to see how much more she can take before she breaks."
You're happy to oblige. Each thrust punches sounds out of her that are barely human, and you can feel her whole body starting to tense up in that way that means she's getting dangerously close despite your orders.
"Hold it," you command. "Don't you dare cum yet."
"Can't," Haewon sobs. "Can't hold it. Too much. Please let me cum. Please, daddy, mommy, please."
"Not yet," Sullyoon says mercilessly, and brings the belt down again. "You can hold it. You're strong. You can do this for us."
Sullyoon drops the belt and grabs Haewon's face with both hands, forcing her to look up and you watch with fascination as she leans in close, her lips parting. She lets saliva pool in her mouth and then slowly, deliberately, she spits directly into Haewon's open mouth.
"Swallow," Sullyoon commands, and Haewon obeys immediately, her throat working as she takes it down. "Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for mommy."
You can feel Haewon's pussy clenching around you even tighter after that, and you know she's right on the absolute edge. There's no way she can hold back much longer, and honestly, you don't want her to. You want to see her completely shatter. You grab both her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning her wrists together with one hand. The position forces her chest down into the mattress and her ass up even higher, and the leverage it gives you is incredible. You start fucking her with absolutely everything you have, your hips pistoning forward with brutal force.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!" Haewon screams. The sound is so loud you're definitely going to get noise complaints, but none of you care. "I can't! I'm going to—please, I need to cum!"
"Cum for us," Sullyoon says. "Be a good girl and cum all over daddy's cock. Show us how good we make you feel."
With permission given, Haewon's orgasm hits her like an avalanche, her whole body convulsing as she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your cock so tight it's almost painful, pulsing and milking you, and you can feel her release gushing out around your cock, soaking everything.
"That's it, that's it," Sullyoon encourages, watching. "Look at you, princess. So beautiful when you cum. Keep going. Let it all out."
Haewon is sobbing through her orgasm, completely lost in it, and the sensation of her pussy spasming around you combined with her desperate sounds pushes you right to your own edge. You fuck her through it, prolonging her pleasure, and you can feel your own release building at the base of your spine.
"Fuck, I'm close," you warn, your rhythm getting erratic. "Gonna cum."
"Pull out," Sullyoon says quickly. "I want to see it."
You give Haewon a few more brutal thrusts, drawing out every last bit of her orgasm, and then you pull out. Your cock is absolutely drenched with her arousal, and it's throbbing with the need to release. You quickly flip Haewon over onto her back (she's completely boneless, barely able to help, her limbs shaking) and you position yourself over her face.
"Open your mouth," you order and Haewon obeys, her tongue lolling out, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
You stroke yourself fast and hard, and it only takes a few pumps before you're cumming. The first rope of cum shoots out and lands across Haewon's face, painting a line from her forehead down across her nose. The second hits her cheek, and the third lands directly in her open mouth.
"Holy shit," Sullyoon breathes, eyes wide as she watches. "Look at all that cum."
And there is a lot. More than you've cum in a long time, probably built up from all the teasing and edging throughout the night. You keep stroking, milking every last drop out, and it just keeps coming. Thick ropes of white coating Haewon's face, getting in her hair, dripping down her cheeks, covering her lips and chin.
"Fuck," you groan, your whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. "Take it all, baby. Every fucking drop."
Haewon's tongue comes out to lick at what landed near her mouth, and the sight of her tasting your cum while her face is completely painted with it is almost enough to get you hard again immediately.
When you're finally done, completely spent, you sit back on your heels to admire your work. Haewon's face is absolutely covered, cum dripping down onto the pillow beneath her head. Her eyes are still glazed, a satisfied smile on her face despite the mess.
"You were such a good girl," you tell her, reaching down to stroke her cheek with your thumb. "Took everything we gave you so perfectly."
"Such a good girl," Sullyoon echoes. "I've never seen you like this, Haewon. Never seen you so thoroughly used. You look beautiful."
"Feel beautiful," Haewon manages to mumble. "Feel perfect. That was… I've never… nothing's ever been that intense."
You collapse beside her on the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Your whole body feels like jelly, completely wrung out, and you can feel sweat cooling on your skin. Sullyoon climbs onto the bed on Haewon's other side, sandwiching her between you. Sullyoon looks down at Haewon's cum-covered face, and there's this hungry glint in her eyes that makes your spent cock twitch despite being completely drained. "Can't let all that go to waste," she murmurs, and before you can fully process what she's about to do, she's leaning down.
Her tongue comes out and she starts at Haewon's forehead. She licks a long, slow stripe down, collecting the cum that's painted across her friend's skin. Haewon's eyes flutter open in surprise, but she doesn't protest. She actually tilts her head back slightly to give Sullyoon better access.
“This is so dirty," you breathe out, watching transfixed as Sullyoon continues her work.
Sullyoon's tongue traces along Haewon's temple, then down her cheek, lapping up every drop of your release. She's thorough and deliberate, clearly savoring the taste.
"Tastes different on her skin," Sullyoon observes, pulling back for a moment before diving back in. "Still good though. Salty and warm."
"Oh my god, Sully," Haewon giggles breathlessly, her hands coming up to rest on Sullyoon's shoulders. "You're insane."
"I know you're enjoying it, though," Sullyoon counters, and she licks across Haewon's nose, cleaning the cum that had landed there. "Besides, we're way past the point of being shy about this stuff." She moves to Haewon's other cheek, her tongue working meticulously to clean every trace. When she reaches Haewon's lips, she pauses, her eyes meeting her friend's. There's this moment of tension, of anticipation, and then Sullyoon is kissing her.
It's absolutely filthy, all tongue and no finesse, Sullyoon licking into Haewon's mouth to share the taste of your cum. Their tongues slide together messily, saliva and cum mixing between them, and you can hear the wet sounds of the kiss from where you're lying beside them. Haewon moans into Sullyoon's mouth, her hands sliding up to tangle in her friend's hair. They're making out like they're starving for each other, desperate and sloppy. Your cum is smeared between both their faces now, transferred by the kiss, and neither of them seems to care at all.
"Fuck, that's hot," you manage. "You two are so fucking hot together."
Sullyoon breaks the kiss long enough to glance at you with a smirk. "Enjoying the show?"
"Very much," you confirm. "Please don't stop on my account."
"Wasn't planning to," Sullyoon says, and then she's back to kissing Haewon, this time slower but no less intense. Her tongue traces Haewon's bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth, and Haewon whimpers at the sensation.
When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing hard. Haewon's face is much cleaner now, most of your cum either licked up by Sullyoon or transferred to her own face through the kissing. They're both flushed and glowing, looking thoroughly debauched and absolutely satisfied.
"That was amazing," Haewon says. "Everything about tonight was amazing."
"It really was," Sullyoon agrees. "I can't believe we actually did this."
"Alright, the chat here is cool but I don't think we can continue like this," you say eventually, forcing yourself to sit up despite your body's protests. "We really should shower. We're all disgusting."
"Speak for yourself," Sullyoon says, but she's sitting up too, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm glowing."
"You're covered in various bodily fluids," you point out. "All of us are."
"Fine," Haewon concedes with a yawn. "Shower sounds good. But I don't think I can stand up."
"Come on," you say, climbing off the bed and offering her your hand. "I'll help you."
The three of you make your way to the bathroom, Haewon wobbling slightly between you and Sullyoon. Your shower is decent sized, big enough for two people comfortably, and with some strategic positioning, three people can fit if they don't mind being close. Which, after everything that just happened, none of you do. The hot water feels incredible against your skin, washing away the sweat and everything else. You help wash Haewon's hair while Sullyoon soaps up her body, all three of you taking care of each other with this new intimacy that feels natural now. There's some playful touching and a few kisses exchanged, but mostly it's just comfortable and warm.
When you're all clean and dried off, you realize the next problem. "You both need something to sleep in," you say, wrapping a towel around your waist. "Let me grab you some shirts."
You head to your dresser and pull open the drawer where you keep your old t-shirts, the comfortable worn ones that are perfect for sleeping. But before you can pick anything out, both Sullyoon and Haewon have crowded in beside you, reaching for the same shirt simultaneously. It's this faded blue one, soft from years of washing, and they each grab a side of it at the exact same moment. They freeze, looking at each other, and then at the shirt, and then at you.
"This is my shirt," Haewon says.
"No, it's mine," Sullyoon argues. "I always wear this one when I sleep over."
"I wore it last time I was here," Haewon insists.
The situation is so unlikely that it is comical. They've both been sleeping over, both wearing your shirts, both making themselves at home in your space without knowing about each other. It's complicated, but it's also kind of perfect.
"Okay, new solution," you say, reaching past them to grab a different shirt. "Sullyoon, this one is officially yours now. Your designated sleepover shirt. And Haewon can keep the blue one."
You hand Sullyoon a gray shirt that's equally soft and worn, and she examines it critically for a moment before nodding. "Fine. But this better be comfortable."
"It is," you assure her. "Trust me."
Both girls pull on the shirts, and they hit them mid-thigh, just long enough to be decent but short enough to be enticing. They're not wearing anything underneath, and you can see the outline of their bodies through the thin fabric. It's innocent and sexy at the same time, and you have to force yourself not to get distracted again.
"Ow," Haewon suddenly says, reaching back to touch her ass. "It's burning."
"Let me see," Sullyoon says immediately.
Haewon lifts the hem of her shirt, revealing her ass, and both you and Sullyoon wince. The skin is bright red with clear marks from the belt, and there are even some purple-ish spots where the strikes were particularly hard. It looks painful, and you feel a twinge of guilt with pride at having marked her so thoroughly.
"Fuck, baby, I'm sorry," Sullyoon says, and she actually drops to her knees, pressing gentle kisses to the marked skin. "I got carried away. Does it hurt bad?"
"It's not terrible," Haewon assures her, though she's clearly feeling it. "Just stings. But in a good way, kind of."
You move closer and press a soft kiss to her unmarked lower back. "You'll get used to it," you tell her. "The soreness fades pretty quick, and then you just have the memories."
"I think I'd like to get used to it," Haewon says with a shy smile. "It was intense but I loved it."
She yawns then, huge and jaw-cracking, and Sullyoon laughs as she stands back up. "Someone's tired," she observes.
"Someone just had the most intense sexual experience of her life," Haewon counters. "I think I'm allowed to be tired."
"Fair point," you concede. "Let's get the bed ready."
The sheets are absolutely destroyed, so you strip them off and grab fresh ones from the closet. The three of you work together to make the bed, and there's something domestic and comfortable about it. When it's done, you all climb in, and there's a brief moment of awkwardness as you figure out the sleeping arrangement. You end up in the middle again, because apparently that's just your permanent position now, with Haewon on your left and Sullyoon on your right. They both immediately curl into you, their heads on your chest, and you wrap your arms around both of them.
"Today was amazing," Haewon says sleepily, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your stomach. "So intense. So good. I loved every second of it."
"Even the spanking?" Sullyoon teases.
"Especially the spanking," Haewon confirms. "I loved calling you mommy and him daddy. Made everything feel even better. Can we keep doing that?"
"If that's what you want," Sullyoon says softly. "We can definitely keep doing that."
"I want to be your good girl," Haewon continues, her words getting slightly slurred as sleep pulls at her. "For both of you. Want to make you proud."
"You already do," you tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You're perfect, baby."
You settle back into the pillows with a contented sigh, both girls pressed against your sides, and you can't help but smile. "I was right all along," you say. "This was always going to work."
"Don't get cocky," Sullyoon warns. "You got lucky that we're both apparently insane enough to agree to this."
"Not insane," you correct. "Brave. Revolutionary. Pioneers of modern relationships."
"You're such an idiot," Sullyoon says fondly.
Haewon shifts slightly. "So we're officially your girlfriends now? Both of us?"
"Yes," you confirm without hesitation. "Both of you. My girlfriends. If you'll have me."
"We'll have you," Sullyoon says. "God help us, but we'll have you."
There's a moment of silence, and then Sullyoon lets out this long-suffering sigh. "When my friends find out about this, I'm going to be so embarrassed. They're never going to let me live it down."
"I can't wait to post a picture of both of you on Instagram," you say, just teasing. "Show everyone how lucky I am."
"You just want to show off," Sullyoon accuses. "We're not objects for you to parade around."
"I know that.” You lean down to kiss Sullyoon, and then turn to kiss Haewon. "I'm kidding about the Instagram thing. Well, mostly kidding. But I promise I'm going to take good care of both of you. No more lies, no more games. Just us, being honest and figuring this out together."
"You better," Sullyoon warns. "Because if you fuck this up—"
"I know, I know," you interrupt. "You'll stab me. Or set me on fire. Or both."
"Both," Sullyoon confirms. "Definitely both."
"Noted," you say, and you pull them both closer. "Now can we please go to sleep? I'm exhausted."
"Fine," Sullyoon concedes. "But we're talking logistics in the morning. Ground rules, schedules, all of it."
"Whatever you want," you promise. "We'll figure it all out. Together."
—
The morning light, soft and golden through the crack in the curtain, it's what eventually pulls Sullyoon from sleep. She blinks slowly, her head immediately protesting the movement with a dull throb. Too much wine last night, she thinks, groaning quietly as she presses a hand to her forehead. Then the memories come flooding back - everything that happened, every kiss and touch and filthy word - and her eyes snap fully open. She turns her head to find Haewon still curled up beside her, sleeping peacefully with her face buried in the pillow. The bed is noticeably empty on the other side where you should be, and Sullyoon can hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen. You're already up, apparently, which is surprising given how late you all stayed up and how thoroughly exhausted everyone was.
"Haewon," Sullyoon says softly, reaching over to shake her friend's shoulder. "Wake up." Haewon makes this protesting sound and tries to burrow deeper into the pillow, but Sullyoon is persistent. After a moment, Haewon's eyes flutter open, unfocused and sleepy. She looks at Sullyoon with confusion for a second, like she can't quite remember where she is, and then awareness dawns and a slow smile spreads across her face.
"Morning," Haewon mumbles.
"How do you feel?" Sullyoon asks, studying her friend's face carefully. In the morning light, with no makeup and bedhead, Haewon looks soft and young and vulnerable, and Sullyoon feels this protective surge in her chest.
"Great," Haewon says, stretching like a cat. Then she winces slightly and reaches back to touch her ass. "Okay, mostly great. My butt is still a bit sore, but otherwise I feel amazing. Yesterday was really, really good."
"You don't regret it?" Sullyoon presses, because she needs to hear it clearly, needs to know that her best friend isn't going to wake up and realize they made a terrible mistake.
Instead of answering with words, Haewon leans in and kisses her. It's soft and sweet and completely different from the desperate kissing of last night, and when she pulls back, she's smiling. "No," she says firmly. "I don't regret anything. What about you?"
Sullyoon considers the question, taking stock of her feelings. Her head hurts, her body is sore in places she forgot could be sore, and she's lying in bed with her best friend after having the most intense sexual experience of her life with said best friend and the guy they're apparently both dating now. It's insane. It's complicated. It's—
"Not yet," Sullyoon says with a small smile. "Ask me again in a week."
They get out of bed, both of them still wearing your shirts and nothing else, and pad out to the main area of your apartment. You're sitting at the small dining table with a cup of coffee and a book, looking relaxed and domestic in just sweatpants and a t-shirt. When you look up and see them, your whole face lights up with this genuine smile that makes Sullyoon blush, even though she tries to hide it by turning her face to the side.
"Morning, sleepyheads," you say, closing your book. "I was starting to think you'd sleep all day."
Haewon immediately walks over to you, and without any hesitation she leans down to kiss you. "Morning, daddy," she says against your lips.
"I made breakfast," you announce, gesturing to the counter where there are plates of eggs and toast and fruit. "Nothing fancy, but I figured you'd both be hungry."
"You made breakfast?" Haewon's eyes go wide with delight. "That's so sweet!"
"Don't be fooled," Sullyoon says, moving to examine the food critically. "These good boyfriend deeds will only last the first week. Then it's back to takeout and frozen pizza."
You stand up and move to wrap your arms around Sullyoon from behind, pulling her back against your chest. "You're always so grumpy when you wake up," you murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple, then her cheek. "It's kind of cute."
"I'm not grumpy," Sullyoon protests, but she's leaning back into your embrace despite herself. "I'm realistic."
"Grumpy," you repeat with a grin, kissing her neck.
Haewon has already moved to sit at the table, but as soon as she lowers herself onto the chair, she lets out this pained sound. "Ow, fuck," she mutters, quickly adjusting her position and shifting her weight. She finally finds an angle that works, sitting slightly to one side, and looks over at Sullyoon. "Mommy, come eat too."
Sullyoon extricates herself from your arms and moves to sit across from Haewon, her eyebrows raised. "It's a bit weird for you to call me mommy when you're older than me," she points out. "Like, factually incorrect."
Haewon just shrugs, already digging into her breakfast. "It's just a detail. Age is just a number. Besides, you're the one who started it last night."
"That was different," Sullyoon argues. "That was in the heat of the moment."
"And this is the warm afterglow of the moment," Haewon counters. "Same thing."
You move to sit with them, bringing your coffee with you, and you reach into your pocket to pull out your cigarettes. Sullyoon watches as you pull one out and bring it to your lips, reaching for the lighter that's sitting on the table. But before you can flick it, Sullyoon reaches out and plucks the cigarette right from between your lips.
"Hey," you protest. "I was about to smoke that."
"No, you weren't," Sullyoon says calmly, holding the cigarette out of your reach. "You're not smoking anymore."
"What? Since when?"
"Since now," Sullyoon informs you. "From now on, Haewon and I are in charge of this relationship. And we say no more cigarettes."
"We are?" Haewon asks, looking delighted by this information.
"We are," Sullyoon confirms, not taking her eyes off you. "You do what we tell you. That's how this is going to work."
You lean back in your chair, studying Sullyoon. "That's kind of a toxic trait," you point out. "Taking control like that. And that's definitely not how you deal with addiction. It takes support, respect, and acceptance to deal with this delicate matter. You can't just order someone to quit cold turkey."
"I don't give a fuck," Sullyoon says bluntly. "You want this relationship to work? You want us both to stick around? Then you quit smoking. It's disgusting, it's bad for your health, and I hate it. Haewon hates it too."
"I do hate it," Haewon agrees, nodding enthusiastically. "It makes your breath taste bad when we kiss."
"Fine," you sigh. "You win. You're both in charge of the relationship. I'll do what you tell me."
"Good boy," Sullyoon says, then she leans across the table and kisses you, slow and sweet, and when she pulls back she's smiling. "See? That wasn't so hard."
"Don't get used to me being this agreeable," you warn, but you're smiling too. "I'm only doing this because I like you both way too much."
"Love," Haewon corrects. "You love us. You said so last night."
"I did," you admit. "And I meant it. I love you both."
"We love you too," Haewon says immediately, and she looks at Sullyoon. "Right, mommy?"
Sullyoon rolls her eyes at the title but nods. "Yeah," she says. "We love you. Just a little. Even when you're being an idiot."
"Especially when I'm being an idiot," you correct with your smug smile.
After breakfast and some more lazy kissing on the couch, reality starts to creep back in. Both girls have to go home eventually, have to get back to their lives, and as much as you'd love to keep them here in this perfect bubble forever, you know that's not how this works. Sullyoon and Haewon disappear into your bedroom to get changed back into the clothes they wore last night. You can hear them talking and laughing, and the sound makes you smile unconsciously. When they emerge, Sullyoon is back in her skirt and sweater, looking put-together despite the slightly mussed hair and the faint hickey you can see peeking out from her collar. Haewon is in her outfit from yesterday too, and she's walking a bit gingerly, still feeling the effects of last night's activities.
You walk them to the door, and there's this moment where none of you quite know what to say. This is new territory, uncharted waters, and the reality of what happens next is suddenly very present. "So," you start, leaning against the doorframe. "Tonight? Movie night? I was thinking we could order pizza, watch something terrible, just hang out."
"Are you asking us both on a date?" Sullyoon asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I guess I am," you confirm. "Our first official date as... whatever we are."
"A throuple," Haewon supplies helpfully.
"Right. Our first official throuple date," you say, testing out the word. "So, are you both in?"
"Yes," Haewon says immediately, bouncing slightly on her toes before wincing and remembering her sore ass. "Definitely yes. I want to come over tonight."
"I'll be here too," Sullyoon agrees, and then her expression turns more serious. She steps closer to you. "I'm happy we decided to give this a try. With you. Both of us. I know it's unconventional and probably insane, but I think it could be good. We could be good."
"We will be good," you promise, reaching out to cup her face. "I know I fucked up by not being honest from the start, but I swear I'm going to make this work. I'm going to be the boyfriend you both deserve."
"Just don't make me regret this," Sullyoon warns you. It's not really a threat, just vulnerability, this fear that you'll hurt her again. "Please. I'm trusting you with a lot here. We both are."
"I know," you say seriously. "And I won't let you down. I promise."
Haewon moves to stand beside Sullyoon, and she takes your other hand, squeezing it gently. "I believe in you," she says with that sweet optimism that's so characteristically her. "I think you're going to do great. We all are."
Sullyoon reaches down and takes your hand, lacing her fingers through yours. Haewon does the same with your other hand, and the three of you stand there connected, forming this little triangle of intertwined hands. "Two girlfriends," Sullyoon muses. "I still can't quite believe this is happening. I don't know if you're incredibly lucky or completely insane."
"Little bit of both," you admit. "Mostly lucky though."
"Very lucky," Haewon agrees, and then she and Sullyoon both lean in at the same time, sandwiching you between them for a kiss. It's sweet and chaste, nothing like the desperate kisses from last night, but it feels significant somehow.
When they pull back, you're smiling so wide your face hurts. "You know," Sullyoon says thoughtfully, "if you keep using that silver tongue of yours to talk your way out of situations, you really will make a great lawyer one day."
"I already am a lawyer," you argue immediately.
"You're a law student," Sullyoon corrects. "There's a difference."
"A law student is basically a lawyer," you insist. "I have all the knowledge, I just need the piece of paper."
"The piece of paper is the important part," Sullyoon shoots back. "That's literally what makes you a lawyer. The bar exam, the certification—"
"The knowledge is what matters," you argue. "Everything else is just bureaucracy."
"Oh my god, you two," Haewon interrupts with a laugh. "Does it really matter? The point is his tongue is already very good at a lot of things." There's a beat of silence as both you and Sullyoon process what she just said. Then Sullyoon is laughing, this genuine surprised laugh that makes her whole face light up, and you're joining in because leave it to Haewon to cut through your bickering with a perfectly timed dirty joke.
"What?" Haewon says innocently, but she's grinning. "I'm just saying. His tongue is talented. Very talented."
"You're not wrong," Sullyoon agrees, still laughing. "God, I can't believe you just said that."
"Someone had to," Haewon says with a shrug. "You two could argue about the lawyer thing for hours."
"Fair point," you concede, pulling both of them in for one more quick kiss. "Alright, you two should probably go before you're even later getting home. But I'll see you tonight?"
"Tonight," they both confirm.
You open the door for them, and they step out into the hallway. Haewon blows you a kiss, and Sullyoon just shakes her head with a fond smile. As they start walking toward the elevator, you can hear their voices continuing the conversation.
"So about the whole 'mommy' thing," Sullyoon is saying. "We need to establish some ground rules."
"Like what?" Haewon asks.
"Like you can only call me that when we're in bed," Sullyoon says firmly. "Not in public, not around other people. Only in private."
"But I like calling you mommy," Haewon protests. "It's cute."
"It's weird if you do it in front of other people," Sullyoon argues. "Especially since you're technically older than me."
"Only by a few months," Haewon says. "That barely counts."
"It counts," Sullyoon insists. "And I mean it, Haewon. You cannot call me mommy in front of our other friends. They'll never let me live it down."
"Fine, fine," Haewon agrees. "Only in private. Got it."
Their voices fade as they turn the corner toward the elevator, still bickering good-naturedly, and you stand there in your doorway with this stupid grin on your face. You did it. You actually fucking did it. Made your case, presented your evidence, cross-examined every doubt. Against all odds and conventional wisdom, through silver-tongued persuasion, audacity (and probably more luck than you deserve), you convinced the jury of two to acquit. Not just to forgive the crime, but to rewrite the law entirely. To say that loving them both wasn't wrong - it was just ahead of its time.
The verdict is in. Guilty of deception, yes. But worthy of something better than punishment.
Tags: Confusion, Jealousy, held in emotions, Love, Overstimulation.
TW: anticipation, Sex, orgasm, p in v, and other sexual orientation.
Requested: No/ Yes
Word count: Idk
________________________________
We’d been talking for five months.
Not dating.
Not nothing either.
That weird in-between stage—half friendship, half “what are we doing,” full of late-night texts, soft looks across rooms, phone calls that last too long, and moments that feel like they should mean more… but no one says it.
I liked him. A lot more than I meant to.
And maybe that was the problem.
Talking makes you close—but not safe.
Talking makes you want things no one’s promised.
⸻
The night of the gathering was chill. One of Michael’s friends was throwing something low-key—just music, drinks, and a bunch of people who knew each other well enough to pretend they didn’t care who was watching.
Michael picked me up just after seven. He wore this black tee that hugged his shoulders a little too perfectly, curls still a little wet like he’d showered last minute. When he smiled at me through the open car window, my stomach pulled tight in that dumb way it always did.
“Hey, you,” he said.
“Hey, yourself.”
He smelled like cedarwood and mint. He always did.
⸻
At the party, I drifted. Talked to a few people I didn’t expect to talk to—some guy who produced something for somebody famous, a girl who ran a wellness brand I’d actually followed for a while. Michael introduced me around, then got swept up in conversation across the room.
I wasn’t mad. It was his crowd.
After a while, I excused myself to the bathroom. On the way back, I slowed when I caught sight of him in the hallway—smiling, arms wrapped around a girl. She was petite, pretty. He kissed her cheek. She laughed, touching his chest like they’d done that a hundred times before.
And it wasn’t a thing. I knew that.
But it felt like a thing.
I didn’t stop walking. Didn’t ask. Didn’t flinch. Just kept it moving.
⸻
The car ride back to his place was quiet.
Not heavy. Not tense. Just… quiet.
I stared out the window. The rain had started again, light and steady. I watched the water slide down the glass like it had something to say.
Michael didn’t push. He drove with one hand on the wheel, one arm resting out the window. His profile looked calm, but I could feel him glancing over every so often.
When we pulled into his driveway, the sky was dark. The house was quiet. Familiar.
Inside, I sat down on the couch and kicked off my shoes. He dropped his keys on the table and stood there for a second, watching me.
“You alright?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
But I didn’t look at him. And I didn’t smile.
He paused. Then came closer. Quiet footsteps. Then he knelt in front of me, gently, like I might flinch. He sat back on his heels, hands on his knees, looking right at me.
“Okay,” he said, softly. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
I stared at the wall for a second. Tried to swallow it. Then looked at him—at those deep brown eyes, at that face I’d memorized too well. Something cracked a little.
“I like you,” I said. “A lot. And I’ve been trying not to say it because we’re not… you know. We’re not anything. But tonight, when I saw you hug that girl… and kiss her cheek… I don’t know. It just made me feel stupid.”
He blinked.
“Kiss her cheek?” he repeated, like I’d told him the sky was green.
“Yeah. In the hallway. You were laughing. You looked happy.”
There was a pause.
And then—he laughed.
Not mean. Not mocking. Just surprised. Soft.
“That was Janet,” he said, sitting up straighter.
I stared at him. “Janet?”
“My sister.”
My whole body went still.
“I—” I blinked. “That was your sister?”
“Yeah. I invited her last minute. She lives nearby.”
I put a hand over my face. “Oh my God.”
Michael grinned. A slow, knowing grin. That perfect white smile. That amused sparkle in his eyes.
“You thought I was—?” he started.
“Don’t,” I groaned, laughing into my palms. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”
“You really thought I’d bring another girl and kiss her in front of you?”
I dropped my hands, cheeks hot. “I don’t know! We’re not together, Michael.”
He tilted his head. “Maybe not officially. But… do you really think I’ve been talking to you every day for five months because I don’t feel something?”
My breath caught.
He leaned in then, slow. His hand came up, fingers resting under my chin, guiding my face to his.
“I like you,” he said. Simple. Sure. No hesitation. “I’ve been trying to be patient. Respect your space. But I like you.”
His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, and then—he kissed me.
Soft at first. Still testing. Still asking.
Then deeper. Warmer. His lips full and careful, like he was trying not to break the moment. One hand stayed under my chin, holding me steady. The other slid behind my neck, his fingers slipping into my hair.
I kissed him back like I’d been waiting five months. Because I had.
And when he pulled back, just barely, he smiled again.
“You still feel stupid?” he asked gently.
I shook my head. “Only a little.”
He laughed and pulled me into his arms.
His arms wrapped around you like it was the easiest thing in the world — like your body fit against his without effort, like he’d done it a hundred times in dreams he never said out loud.
Your face rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, warm. You felt the rise and fall of his breath in your hair. Slow. Safe. Close.
You didn’t want to move.
Didn’t want to lose the quiet electricity between you.
But his hands were moving. Soft, slow. Not rushed — just familiar. One hand skimmed the curve of your back. The other settled on your hip, then slid lower. It wasn’t a demand. Just presence. Weight. A quiet claim.
You shifted, just enough to see his face.
His lips brushed your forehead.
Then your cheek.
Then hovered just near the corner of your mouth.
“Still thinking?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
You swallowed. “Trying not to.”
He smiled — that quiet, knowing smile that always made your stomach flip — and leaned in again. This time, the kiss was deeper. Warm, parted lips and slow breath. You melted into it.
His hand slid along your thigh, fingers grazing just beneath the hem of your dress. Not groping. Just… asking. Waiting.
Your breath caught.
You kissed him again, and your hands moved on instinct — under his shirt, across smooth skin, tracing the lean muscle he always kept hidden beneath quiet clothes and quiet control. He inhaled sharply when your fingertips brushed his ribs, and the small sound from him made something pulse between your legs.
Five months of holding back unraveled, one heartbeat at a time.
He pulled you gently into his lap. His grip on your hips was strong, sure. You straddled him, breath heavy, dress slipping higher, exposing soft skin beneath. His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, then paused — not pushing, just holding. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with something he wasn’t hiding anymore.
He kissed you harder.
Your bodies pressed flush, heat rising between you.
You gasped into his mouth, and he stilled.
“You sure?” he asked, voice rough now.
You nodded. “I’m sure.”
That was all he needed.
He lifted you effortlessly — like carrying you was second nature — and walked you to the bedroom. You clung to him, fingers in his curls, heart thudding as he laid you back against the sheets.
His eyes searched yours one last time.
Then he kissed you. Again and again.
His hands slid up your thighs, under your dress, then eased it over your head. You didn’t resist. You wanted him to see. All of you.
His eyes roamed slowly — not greedy, but deliberate. Admiring.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice low and reverent.
You gave him a half-smile. “You’re just now figuring that out?”
“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” he admitted, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. “Trying too hard.”
His mouth moved lower — to your chest, the soft curve of your stomach, every kiss slower than the last. He traced your skin like a map he didn’t want to rush. Your back arched. You couldn’t stay still.
You undressed him, too — peeled away his shirt, ran your hands across his chest, down his abdomen. His skin was hot under your touch. Firm, but not rigid. Real. Alive.
He didn’t say much.
He didn’t have to.
You opened your legs for him and he settled between them like it was the only place he belonged. His mouth met you there, soft tongue tracing slow circles around your clit, his fingers parting you, exploring you, then easing inside — deep, curling just right.
He took his time.
Listened to the way you gasped, adjusted when your hips twitched, stayed there until your thighs trembled and your voice broke into a desperate, helpless cry.
He kissed up your body again, and you reached for him, panting. “Please…”
He didn’t tease.
Didn’t hesitate.
You felt him press against you — thick and hard — and your legs wrapped around his hips automatically. The first thrust was slow. Careful. Deep.
You both exhaled.
“God,” you whispered.
He didn’t rush. He set a rhythm. Smooth, rocking, so deep you swore he was in your chest. His hands held your hips, guided your body, his mouth brushing yours with every breath.
You felt every inch.
Every pulse.
Every quiet gasp against your skin.
When you moaned his name, it broke something in him. He moved faster — not frantic, just needier, more raw. He kissed your throat, your cheek, your mouth again like he needed to feel every part of you from the inside out.
You clenched around him, breath hitching.
“I’m close,” you choked out.
He didn’t let go.
Didn’t change a thing.
“Let it happen,” he whispered. “I got you. I’m right here.”
And you fell apart — body tightening, back arching, breath caught in your throat as wave after wave hit you, loud and messy and real.
He followed seconds after, groaning your name, burying his face in your neck as he spilled inside you — deep, full, no barrier, no hesitation. It was raw. Intimate. Final.
He didn’t move right away.
Didn’t say anything.
Just held you.
Your bodies pressed together, slick with sweat, skin buzzing. His hand ran slowly up your side. Your fingers stayed in his curls.
After a while, he spoke — voice hoarse and soft.
“You really thought I’d kiss someone else in front of you?”
You groaned. “Let me have my meltdown in peace.”
He laughed — chest shaking, lips brushing your cheek. “Next time, just talk to me.”
Summary: An annoying midnight visit from your boyfriend was supposed to end with a sandwich, but he had a completely different craving in mind.
Author's Notes: Seems like Enjin won the polls. MDNI.
18+ oral (f. receiving)
You were sitting inside, minding your own business, when this massive thump rattled your ceiling.
As you stepped into the light of the streetlamp, you found Enjin dangling from your gutter. He’s hanging by the hooked handle of Umbreaker, swaying slightly in the humid breeze, looking remarkably relaxed.
"Enjin," you said, crossing your arms. "Explain. Now."
"Oh, hey," he said, doesn't even look startled. He gave you a little two-finger salute from the gutter. "Wanted to give you a little surprise visit. Since your window latch has been busted anyway, I figured I’d save you the walk to the front door."
"You were trying to peer into my room, weren't you?"
"Peer? Wow, okay, that's a strong word," he chuckled, though the sound is cut short when the gutter groans under his weight. He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting toward your front door. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a ladder? Or a sandwich?"
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. For someone who fights Trashbeasts for a living, there is absolutely no way he’s actually stuck; he could easily drop down on his own if he wanted to. He’s staying up there entirely to bug you and drag this bit out.
But as much as you'd love to just walk back inside and lock the door, he’ll probably end up tearing the entire gutter system right off the house.
"Just come inside here before the neighbors call the cops," you muttered as you trudged over to the garage, dragging out the heavy metal ladder.
Honestly, you have an agenda here. You will slap some turkey and mayo between two slices of bread, hand it over, and politely point him back toward the sidewalk so you can get back to your peaceful night.
But of course, things went entirely sideways.
"E... Enjin, slow down! This is too much..."
The sandwich never got finished. It sat half-assembled on a plate behind you, abandoned and forgotten, condiments pooling together in a mess. You were halfway through spreading the mayo when a warm, heavy weight pressed flush against your back. Then one thing led to another — his hands led to pulling, pulling led to pushing, pushing led to your back hitting the couch cushions. Clothes scattered across the floor as your shirt crumpled near the door, his jacket hanging off the desk chair, and everything else tangled together on the hardwood.
His hand gripped your thigh, hitching it higher, changing the angle to drag a sound out of you. He knew exactly how to drive you up, how to make your breath catch and your toes curl. He pulls out just enough to use his thumb to grind mercilessly against your clit.
"Too much, yeah? ...I'll slow down."
A beat.
"Eventually."
That cocky bastard. Still smirking even now, even with sweat rolling down his temple and his composure cracking at the edges. His hair had fallen loose from its usual slicked-back arrangement, strands of it curtaining his face as he dipped down.
You let out a choked, desperate sound as your fingers clenched into the sweat-dampened cushion as his tongue worked up all your sensitive spots, making your body jerk and convulse uncontrollably.
"You... you're a liar. You said you were hungry... for actual food."
"Both. Turns out I was hungry for both." A breathless laugh broke out of him. "Can you blame me?" The noises extended beyond obscene. There was never a steady rhythm, the motion of his mouth and tongue going either too fast or too slow and never really giving you a precise pattern that you could hold onto.
"You're absolutely destroying that poor cushion. If that were my shoulder, you’d have clawed me to shreds by now, hm?"
"Mm... I-I don't know..."
"Might have even torn right through my tattoos, for all I know."
His fingers curled around the backs of your knees, spreading you wider. Looking up at you through dark lashes with an expression caught somewhere between reverence and lust.
Your head thrashed back against the couch, your spine arching so violently your heels dig into his shoulders for leverage. The wet warmth kept going, lapping and lapping, making all of your nerves go haywire. A broken, high-pitched keening sound escapes you.
"Enjin—god, Enjin, please... I’m going to—"
"Please, what? Finish that sentence." His name in your mouth like that — did something irreversible to him. His fingers dug bruises into the soft flesh of your thighs as he held you steady through it.
You choked on the rest of the sentence, your eyes rolling back as the first wave of a shattering climax ripples through you, your thighs trembling uncontrollably against his ears.
Only when the shaking subsided to something manageable did he pull back. Chin slick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lifted his weight moving off you just enough to let you breathe, though he didn’t go far.
"Ah... look at that. You’re my absolute world, you know that?" he murmured, his voice thick with affection. He leaned down to pressed a firm kiss right to your earlobe, letting his breath warm your skin. "You have this hold on me, babe. I’m just so damn proud that you’re mine."
"Stop saying such embarrassing things, I hate you, Enjin!"
You groaned, your muscles feeling completely like jelly. The ceiling was still there, but your racing heart was finally starting to slow down.
Enjin just laughed, as he nipped gently at the skin he’d just kissed to catch you off guard. "Yeah, yeah. You hate me, breaking my heart here, babe."
He finally rolled off you and somehow — God knows how, given you'd stripped each other down to almost nothing — his cigarette pack was still in his back pocket. He fished it out, shook one loose with practiced ease, and lit it off the dying pilot light of your stove. Because apparently, using a lighter like a normal person was beneath him.
He took a slow drag, the orange glow illuminating the sharp lines of his face for a brief second before he exhaled the smoke away from you, watching the gray wisps drift toward the ceiling.
You threw up a weak hand to shove at his chest as he settled back down, but he didn't even budge. Instead, he caught your wrist mid-air. He just watched you through half-closed eyes, the cigarette dangling precariously between his fingers, completely silent. Which, for Enjin, was a miracle.
"Still hate me?" he teased.
Before you could snap back, he took another drag and reached over, gently tugging the mangled cushion out from under your head. He tossed it aside and replaced it with his own thigh, cradling you against him. He smoothed a few stray hairs away from your forehead.
"Oh, and the window latch thing," he added, tapping your nose playfully. "Seriously. Fix it."
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Henry doesn’t know how to be gentle. He grew up around violence, so when things get physical, it’s instinctively aggressive — grabbing, pinning, biting. It’s not about cruelty, but dominance. Unless someone teaches him different, that’s just his baseline.
2. Possessive as Hell
He doesn’t share. Ever. If he’s sleeping with you, you’re his — full stop. He gets off on ownership, saying things like “mine” while pulling your hair, leaving hickeys, or marking your thighs with his fingers.
3. Jealous = Horny
Even a look from someone else sets him off. He won’t yell — he’ll drag you somewhere private and take it out on you physically: demanding kisses, forced eye contact, rough sex meant to prove a point. You don’t belong to anyone else.
4. Control Kink / Dom Top Energy
He needs to feel in charge. Whether it’s telling you to beg, holding you down, or making you wait until he says, control turns him on more than anything else. Sex isn’t just about pleasure — it’s about power.
5. Frustration = Sex Drive
Anger and lust are practically the same thing to Henry. If he’s pissed off — especially after a fight — expect quick, harsh, desperate sex. It’s how he calms the storm inside him.
6. Low Experience, High Obsession
Henry acts like he’s a pro, but truthfully? He’s not that experienced. But when he wants you, he’ll study every reaction, every noise you make. He learns fast and throws everything into it like he’s trying to break you in the best way.
7. Not Big on Dirty Talk (At First)
He’s more likely to curse under his breath or grunt your name than give you a full sentence. But once he gets comfortable, he’ll whisper filthy, possessive things between kisses — “You like that, huh? You like it when I ruin you?”
8. Vulnerability He Hides
There’s a softer side buried deep. You’ll see it when he brushes your hair off your face, or when he pulls you closer after sex without saying anything. He doesn’t know how to ask for affection, but he needs it.
9. Praise Unlocks Him
Say he’s good — or tell him how much you want him — and he’ll lose control. His whole personality craves approval, and in bed, it shows. A simple “you feel so good” makes him go harder, deeper, needier.
10. Post-Sex Silence (His Version of Intimacy)
He won’t talk much after. But he’ll light you a cigarette, tug you into his chest, or quietly trace your skin with his fingers. He won’t say “I love you,” but his body language screams it.
11. Kinks & Interests
• Hair pulling
• Neck grabbing (with care if you trust him)
• Biting/scratching/marking
• Power play (being in control, taking what he wants)
• Rough oral (giving and receiving)
• Clothing stays on halfway (he likes the tension)
• Secret touches in public
12. Sex Is Emotional — Even When He Pretends It’s Not
Every time Henry has sex, some part of him is trying to feel wanted. He doesn’t know how to say it, but sex is the only way he feels close, known, and safe. Under the roughness is a scared boy who just wants to matter to someone.
Patrick
🖤 Patrick Hockstetter – Sexual Headcanons 🖤
1. Power and Control
Patrick is obsessed with control. Sex, for him, is just another way to dominate. He gets off on having complete power over his partner—emotionally, mentally, and physically.
2. Into Taboo and Shock Value
He likes things that are “wrong” or forbidden. The more taboo, the more it excites him. He thrives on reactions—fear, surprise, discomfort. He finds pleasure in testing limits.
3. Rough and Unapologetic
Patrick doesn’t do slow or romantic. His style is aggressive, rough, and raw. He’s into scratching, biting, hair-pulling—the kind of stuff that leaves marks.
4. Dark Voyeurism
Patrick likes to watch. Not just porn—real people. He’d hide and watch couples in secret, or even take pictures when no one’s looking. The idea of being caught just turns him on more.
5. Sexual Identity = Chaotic
Patrick doesn’t label himself. He’ll sleep with whoever intrigues or excites him, regardless of gender. He’s not interested in love or connection, just control and curiosity.
6. Twisted Curiosity
He views sex almost like an experiment. He’d try weird, dangerous, or painful things just to see what happens, or how someone reacts. Pleasure is just one possible outcome—fear is just as good.
7. Silent but Intense
He’s not big on moaning or dirty talk. Most of his communication is through looks, body language, or subtle commands. But when he does talk, it’s dark, intense, and sometimes cruel.
8. Possessive as Hell
If Patrick becomes fixated on someone, he doesn’t like to share. Even if he’s not “dating” them, he’ll act jealous and territorial—like they’re his plaything and no one else’s.
Kinks & Interests:
•Pain & Sadism (Consensual or Not)
•Fear = Arousal
•Power Play / Predator-Prey Dynamics
•Voyeurism + Exhibitionism
•Unpredictability = Edgeplay
•Degradation & Filthy Talk
•Blood + Messy Fetish
•Control Through Pleasure
•Mirror Kink
•Unspoken Need for Chaos Sex
🔥 Bonus Kink Triggers:
• Knife play
• Light bloodletting (on himself or you)
• Spit kink
• Choking / breath control (with dark care)
• Belt use (restraining, hitting, tugging)
• Marking your body — bruises, hickeys, scratches
• Risk of being caught
• Mutual corruption: he wants to drag you down with him
Victor
🔥 Victor Criss Sexual Headcanons (Aged-up Version)
1. Lowkey Sensual, Highkey Respectful:
Victor gives off laid-back energy, but he’s way more thoughtful and attentive than people expect. He doesn’t rush things—he’s slow and steady, reading your reactions and giving you control.
2. Likes It Rough… But Only If You Do:
He’s into some rougher stuff—biting, hair-pulling, leaving marks—but only if you’re enthusiastically into it. He always checks first and makes sure you’re safe and into everything happening.
3. Big on Aftercare:
Even if things get intense, he’s super soft after. Running his fingers through your hair, cleaning you up, giving you his hoodie—he acts tough in public, but in private he’s surprisingly sweet.
4. Loves Praise More Than He’ll Admit:
He doesn’t seem like the type, but if you tell him how good he is, how much you want him, or how he makes you feel? His ego eats it up. He’ll smirk like he’s cocky, but it gets to him.
5. Enjoys Taking His Time:
Foreplay is a huge thing for him. Neck kisses, teasing touches, whispered dirty talk. He likes building tension until you’re practically begging—he wants to drive you wild slowly.
6. Experimentally Queer:
Victor is quietly fluid and down to explore. He doesn’t label himself, but if he’s into you, gender doesn’t stop him. He goes off chemistry, trust, and that raw connection.
7. Public vs. Private Switch:
In public, he might act detached or cool about you—but behind closed doors? He’s obsessive, passionate, and way more vocal and needy than you’d think.
8. Kink-wise:
He’s into light bondage, dominance/submission play, biting/marking, and watching your expressions. If you’re into it, he’ll be down to explore toys, roleplay, or power dynamics.
9. He’s Obsessed With Your Reactions:
Whether it’s soft moans, whimpers, or calling out his name, he feeds off it. He wants to know exactly how he’s making you feel.
10. Needs to Feel Wanted:
Beneath it all, he craves intimacy. Sex with Victor always has some emotional undercurrent—even if it starts casual, he wants that deep connection.
Kinks and interest
•🖤 Teasing and denial
• 🖤 Subtle dominance
• 🖤 Oral (giving & receiving)
• 🖤 Mirror sex
• 🖤 Dirty talk / praise kink
• 🖤 Light restraint / tying you up
• 🖤 Neck kissing & biting (but cleaner than Henry)
• 🖤 Obsession with how you react — eye contact, breath, whimpers
Belch
🔥 Belch Huggins – Sexual Headcanons
1. Late Bloomer, Quiet Curiosity
Belch is slower to act on sexual urges than some of his friends, especially Henry. But he thinks about it a lot — usually quietly, privately, and with a sense of nervous wonder more than boldness. He’s not super experienced early on but wants to be.
2. More Submissive Than You’d Expect
Despite being big and tough on the outside, Belch tends to take a more passive or submissive role in intimacy. He enjoys being told what to do — whether it’s gentle guidance or something more dominant — especially if he trusts you.
3. Soft Touch, Surprisingly Gentle
He has big hands and a rough look, but he’s very careful during sex. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, so he’s slow, focused, and checks in constantly. He really listens to your reactions.
4. Big into Praise Kink
Belch responds really well to compliments. If you tell him he’s doing a good job — especially if he’s insecure — he’ll get flustered and even more eager to please. It builds his confidence and turns him on fast.
5. Lowkey Body Worship Vibes
He’s the type to be completely mesmerized by your body — touching, kissing, even just looking. He gets obsessed with the feeling of skin, stretch marks, softness, shape — especially if you’re curvy. He thinks you’re art.
6. Easily Aroused by Affection
Sex isn’t just sex to Belch. He connects it with cuddling, closeness, and emotional comfort. Kissing deeply, slow grinding, and holding hands during everything? Yes. That’s his jam.
7. Not Super Vocal, but Expressive
He doesn’t talk much during sex, but you’ll hear low groans, gasps, and shaky breathing. His eyes say a lot, and he’ll watch you with a soft, intense gaze the whole time.
8. Surprisingly Good With Aftercare
He loves to clean you up, cuddle close, and kiss your shoulder or chest while calming down. He’s all about making sure you feel good after — emotionally and physically.
9. Turned On by Sincerity
Belch doesn’t like faking or acting tough in bed. What really gets him going is emotional honesty: someone moaning his name, asking for more, or whispering how much they love him.
10. Protective but Not Possessive
He doesn’t get jealous easily, but he does get fiercely protective — if he thinks someone is treating you badly or disrespecting your body, he’ll step in. But he trusts you and doesn’t try to control you.
