#sol x reader

friendzoned!sol, who’s more than friends with you for a few hours at a time; that is, when you’re asleep. he’s not just your fucking friend, not when his fingertips are cradling your cheeks as you snore quietly, tracing your jawline like you’re made of porcelain.

sol can’t possibly be just your friend when he’s the one in bed next to you every night — even when you don’t realize it.

even when you’re out cold. he wishes he didn’t have to knock you out to finally be your lover, but again, he’s settling for what he’ll get.

friendzoned!sol, who dreams of being more as he presses his nose into the crook of your neck and inhales. as he listens to the soft sound of your breathing — inhale, exhale — as if it’s gospel. as he presses soft, open-mouthed kisses to the space between your jawline and your neck, gripping your waist tight with his fingertips to ground himself.

“fuck,” sol all but whimpers, engulfed in your aroma. “haah. you smell perfect. my best friend.”

it’s all your fault, really. how could sol just be your friend when you’re everything he’s ever wanted – good enough to eat –always pressed against him so delectably like a missing puzzle piece?

he’s greedy as he tugs your resting frame closer into his chest, unwrapping the sheets gently and revealing your collarbone beneath your blanket. sol’s breath hitches.

his head dips down, tongue licking a steady stripe, tracing the shape of your bones, all the way up to your lips. and then he’s sucking at your mouth, moaning at the way you hum groggily without stirring awake.

would you dream of him? would you make those sounds for him and only him?

fuck.

friendzoned!sol who’ll always be your friend. 

who’ll always be sweet on you, who’ll be at your beck and call as long as you have the ability to tell him. and since he’s just such a good friend, he’ll always be there to tuck you back into your blanket and press soft kisses to your forehead as he lets you drift back into deeper sleep. he’ll always make sure he’s as quiet as possible when he’s climbing back out of your window.

friendzoned!sol, who’s just your friend — until you realize that you always have been and always will be only his.

@ ttakdoll, 2026

After Sol somehow killed that.. murderer in the bathroom, you were shaken up beyond repair. every step you took was like injecting a needle full of adrenaline into your veins—walking further away from the crime scene the man walking you home caused, leaving you with gut wrenching guilt.

It feels like your senses are heightened as you both walk on the side of the road. You can suddenly smell sol's blood stained shirt, along with the subtle warm and gourmand scent of his cologne. You can barely hear the clouds bubbling above you, threatening to spill raindrops and make your already traumatizing day even worse.

You thought this was the worst for you—but it seemed like sol was struggling even more. You look over at the man, noticing the subtle dark streaks painting his face from the tears that ran down it just moments ago, it was comforting in a way, knowing he cares for you so much that he'd cry over the thought of you in danger. You feel tingles spread across the palm of your hand up into your fingers, it feels just how it did earlier; when sol held your hand up to his face, coddling himself and nuzzling against it. He was so warm, and you felt... No—feel—so fucking cold.

"is it gonna rain?..." the words slip out before you can even process them.

He looks over at you morosely, his eyebrows scrunching up and tears beginning to collect at the bottom lids of his eyes. You didn't notice it, but he did; the way your hands clenched at your sides, and how your voice cracked when you made eye contact with him. He couldn't help it, he gets so emotional over you, especially because he can tell youre scared. He feels a sudden pressure against his throat, and it hurts to swallow as he holds back tears. Killing people isn't that traumatizing to him, but having you witness it is a whole different story.

Sol inhales sharply, "Yeah, maybe. You cold?"

You chuckle, trying to laugh out the frog in your throat, "y-yeah." You look him up and down, "you seem cold too, hah. My place isn't too far from here, you should stay over—if you can!"

He stares at you for a moment, almost in disbelief.

"uh–honestly.. i just don't want to go to bed alone tonight."

You two make it back in one piece, clothes slightly damp from the rain. You invite him to sit on your couch as he sits next to you, closer than necessary... You can sense the closeness between you without looking, and it makes your heart race, but sol quickly ruins that mood.

"what if.. i was never there to save you?" He looks over.

you've never seen sol be vulnerable and open with you, so you want to choose your words carefully—but at the same time, seeing his mouth press into a thin line, and his eyes gloss over, makes your stomach churn in a different way.

"i don't know, sol."

Sol's chest aches at the thought of you leaving him forever, what would he do without you? He'd have no purpose, no reason to live, he's convinced that if he saw you lie dead on the ground, he'd take the same knife that killed you and jab it right into his heart, twisting it through the pain, just to make sure he felt what you felt—punishing himself for not being able to save you. a tear drips down his face.

"I..I know I scared you, i'm sorry." his shoulders slump.

"Sol..."

tears continuously roll out of sol's eyes now. You ogle at the sight of him, his hiccups and sobs are so cute—you just want to hold him and keep him like this forever, pathetic and weeping over you. But you know you can't.. so what the hell are you supposed to do? Youre not particularly good at handling these types of situations...

You place your hand on the back of his head, caressing his hair with your thumb, before gently pushing him down, his head coming to rest onto your lap. Your fingers trace his hairline, pushing any unkept hair out of his face. Your gentle touch sends shivers down his spine. He squeezes his eyes shut, he doesn't know if this is a dream, if youre really holding him like this, if he's laying on your lap right now—but this is what he's dreamed of for a long time, and he wants to stay for as long as possible. He hiccups,

"Y-you almost-hic!-died..."

You continue to stroke his hair as you feel sol's tears start to soak through your pants. the cold patches send tingles up your core, he probably looks so cute right now. He continues to sob, and you just watch his shoulders rise and fall with each trembling breath.

"it's okay sol, i wouldn't leave you.." Your hand trails down his head to his shoulder, massaging the tense muscle with your thumb. He inhales sharply at the action, letting out a loud sob—god, hearing that, makes him believe you really love him, and he can't believe what youre saying, all he can do is cry as his dick stirs in his pants.

"[your name]..." he chokes out, trying to repress his boner.

But he can't

his mind swirls with images of you, holding him so sweetly—like how youre doing now—as his hips jerk up into you, or how you'd wipe the tears from his eyes while you edge him until the skin on his dick is red and raw, and each stroke of your hand makes him feel like he's on the verge of death. Fuck, how he wishes he could dig his head deeper into your lap and settle it between your thighs right now, just to show you how much he cares for you; as if him crying isn't enough. His cries get louder as his dick strains painfully against his pants.

You almost let a smile slip, but quickly put a frown on your face once he rolls over to face you, head still on your lap of course, god forbid he leaves the warmth of your legs. You take in the sight of sol's face below you. puffy, bloodshot eyes, the cutest blush tinting his cheeks and nose, his eyebrows curved up and lip quivering as he stares at you lovingly.

Nausea churns in sol's stomach as your eyes trail down towards his boner. He quickly stands up and pulls his shirt over his pants.

"t-thanks for having me.. I have t-to go home now."

You’ve had… better ideas than this.

Much better ideas than this. And regretted a few. But you couldn’t decide if this was a regrettable decision or the best decision you’ve ever made. All you tried to do was to get your two guy best friends to get along, is that too much to ask?

Apparently it is.

That morning, you had texted both of them separately, asking them to come over around noon for a movie you bought the day before. Sure, you didn’t say that the other one was coming as well, but there wasn’t any harm in a surprise, was there? At least you didn’t think so.

Crowe was the first to show up, ten minutes early. Not that it had bothered you. You had told him to wait on the couch while you finish getting everything ready. And he did just that, waiting patiently, thinking that it would be only you two. Until there was another knock on the door five minutes later, and it was none other than Sol. Who else would it have been, really?

But as soon as the two guys saw each other, the room felt… tense. You could probably cut through the air with a knife from how suffocating it was.

You were sitting in between them on your couch, the movie playing in front of you three, but no one was watching it. Sol was busy throwing glares in Crowe’s direction. Crowe was trying to focus on the movie, but obviously couldn’t because of Sol. And you were just.. there. Right in the middle of their… whatever this was they were doing.

This was so bad. You just wanted them to get along for one afternoon.

You reached for the popcorn on the coffee table, picking it up and offering some to Crowe first, being polite, trying to break the very uncomfortable silence.

“Would you like some popcorn?” You gave him a gentle smile that made his heart skip a beat. Of course he took some, because it was you that was offering it to him. But the death glare Sol gave him didn’t go unnoticed from either of you.

You turned and offered some to Sol. “Popcorn?”

He tore his gaze from Crowe to you, a gentle smile on his lips the moment he looked at you. He shook his head, not voicing his answer before going back to glare at Crowe for even existing in your presence.

And with that, the tension is back. You tried to ignore it, eating some popcorn of your own until Sol grabbed your wrist suddenly, making both you and Crowe look at him.

“Pumpkin, your fingers are dirty,” His red-orange eyes flicked to Crowe for a brief moment, as if making sure he was looking before looking back to you. “Let me clean you up.”

You blinked in confusion, unsure of what he meant by that. “Sol, what are you–” Without letting you finish your sentence, he brought your index and middle finger up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the pad of your fingertips, tasting the buttery and salty goodness of the popcorn and you.

Your face burned as he licked and gently sucked on your fingers, his eyes closing as he savored the taste, humming softly around your fingers, the vibrations sending shivers through your nerves. The warm and wet feeling of his mouth making gentle sucks sent a soft yet audible shudder through your body.

Sol finally pulled your fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your wet fingers, breaking as he opened his eyes, his face left flushed. Yet his eyes bore into yours, his pupils dilating the longer he looked at you.

Crowe’s expression was horrified at the sight before him. He couldn’t form a single thought other than the image of Sol’s mouth on your fingers burned into his brain. Was Crowe going to let this stand? No. This was war.

You felt Crowe gently grab your jaw, turning your head to face him. He gave you a gentle smile, his eyes seemingly darker than you remembered them being before.

“Starlight, you have a little something right–” He leaned in, his hand on your jaw tightening slightly, ensuring you wouldn’t pull away. “There.” His tongue licked the corner of your mouth suddenly, making your breath hitched from the contact.

Crowe gazed over to Sol, noticing how very closely Sol was watching. Sol’s eyes narrowed at Crowe, but it didn’t scare him. Not one bit.

As soon as Crowe pulled away, Sol let go of your wrist and took your face in his hand, turning your face to him a little too roughly before his mouth crashed into yours, muffling your gasp. Sol never looked away from Crowe as he kissed you, watching as Crowe’s face crumbled from watching you two.

It was a war. A war of taking turns on kissing them, of who would get your attention more than the other. And the kissing soon turned into groping and grabbing, a race to see who would be able to take your clothes off first. A race to get you into your bedroom while trying to kiss and touch you.

It was happening so fast that you didn’t know how to process everything, didn’t know who to touch first, who to kiss back. You thought you could feel one of them biting your skin, but you couldn’t tell who it was, not with both of their mouths on you.

When you felt them pulling you down on your bed, Sol tried to take over first, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth, letting you feel his pierced tongue exploring yours. Then you felt Crowe’s tongue on your body, his smooth and wet tongue running up your ribcage until his mouth found your nipple—capturing it and giving it a gentle suck, making you cry out against Sol’s mouth from the feeling. It was an intense sensation yet you didn’t want it to stop.

That would be a crime if they stopped now.

Sol’s hand slid down your stomach, then lower, before dipping between your legs, making you gasp as his middle finger rubbed up and down your slit, gathering enough wetness before bringing that finger up to his lips, pulling back from you to lick his finger. The soft hum of approval made your stomach clench from anticipation.

Crowe noticed your attention wasn’t on him, making him gently nip at your wet peak, making it ache more before he soothed it with his tongue. You groaned, tearing your gaze from Sol to Crowe, feeling him dragging his tongue from your hardened nipple and up to your neck, gently starting to suck on the hollow spot near your collar bone.

Sol watched for a moment, watching how the person he hated most left a dark red mark on the person that he loves most. It was unacceptable. 

He moved down on your body, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, moving lower until his head was between your legs. His hands opening your thighs more for him, fingertips digging into your skin as he buried his face into your wet cunt, his tongue licking up your wetness.

“Ah!~” You tilted your head back on your bed, your legs instinctively moving to close around Sol’s head, but he kept them open as he ate you out—licking and swirling his tongue as if trying to taste all of you, inside and out. As if he was eating something for the first time in a long time.

Crowe lifted his head up from your neck, smashing his lips into yours, nipping at your bottom lip before letting his tongue slide into your mouth, muffling the sounds you were making. The sounds you were making because of Sol.

It was so… erotic. How they fight over you, your attention, your lust. You wanted more, to see how far you could take them before they break. Before they tried to tear each other apart before either of them got inside you.

You leaned into the kiss, one hand coming up and into his hair, kissing Crowe back deeply and desperately. He groaned against your mouth, one hand coming up and gently grabbed your hardened nipple in between his index finger and thumb. He gently twisted it, making a moan rip from the back of your throat, arching into his touch.

Sol noticed. Of course he did. You wanted him to notice.

Sol doubled his efforts, moving his tongue inside you, fucking you with it, making you feel the ball on his tongue gently scratching you in the most pleasurable way imaginable.

You tore your lips from Crowe’s, a moan breaking free, a moan that made both Sol and Crowe’s cocks stir in their pants. Crowe gently grabbed your face again, turning you so you could kiss him again.

“Pay attention, my Starlight.” He whispered against your lips, but Sol heard. And he hated it.

Sol got up then, his mouth and tongue no longer giving you the pleasure that you so desperately wanted. He shoved Crowe a little but still hard enough to make him stop kissing you to look at the angry man.

“Hey, be careful.”

“You. Why can’t you just go away? Why are you always around like a damn fly?”

Crowe gave him a confused look, unsure what he meant, but Crowe didn’t really care right now. He turned back to you, seeing the rise and fall of your chest, your flushed and pouty face before looking back at Sol.

“Hate me all you want, but I only care about her.” He gently cupped your chin, squishing your cheeks a little, making you look even more cuter to them. “You can either continue what you were doing or move out of the way and let me do it. I have no doubt that after a few licks from me she’ll cum sooner.”

If Sol didn’t hate Crowe before, he definitely does now.

As if taking his challenge, Sol leaned down and pushed his tongue back into you, making you whimper from the wet sensation again. Crowe went back to what he had been doing; teasing your aching breasts, kissing you breathlessly.

The sensations were too much, too much for your mind to comprehend, too much for your body to adjust and to handle. Especially all at once. But then Sol’s tongue found your clit, using the ball on his tongue to tease it, flicking against it.

It was overstimulating. You didn’t know when or how it happened so quickly; your body became tense, tilting your head back as a hoarse cry came out of you as waves of pleasure crashed into you, seeping deep into your nerves and bones. And the evidence of it was all over Sol’s mouth and face.

Your body went limp on your bed as Sol leaned upwards, licking his lips with another hum of approval. You panted heavily, feeling Crowe’s fingertips dance along your burning hot skin. Teasing your nerves.

“I think that took a lot out of her.” You heard Crowe say, his voice soft and gentle, like a warm blanket after a cold shower.

“It looked like it did… but I think she can handle more.”

You lifted your head when Sol said that, looking at him as if he was crazy. Well, he was insane. For you. They both were.

Crowe looked down at you, gently cupping your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Can you handle more, my Goddess?”

The way he asked that, the way he worded it made you want to submit to whatever they wanted. To anyone else, it may have seemed like he was giving you a choice. But you knew you didn’t, but Crowe wasn’t the type to take like Sol was. He wanted you to say it. To voice that you want more from them, to take whatever they wanted to give to you willingly.

“Y-Yes…” You stuttered out, despite your core aching and your body in bliss. You still wanted more. You wanted all of them.

Crowe’s lips twitched as he tried to conceal his smirk, moving a hand down to undo his dress pants.

“Whatever my sweetheart wants.~”

You felt Sol’s hands running up your thighs, moving to grip your hips and suddenly pulled you down closer to him. You whined at the feeling of his bulge in his jeans pressing against your wet core.

In that moment, you knew that you did indeed have a bad idea making them come over for a movie. But it wasn’t regrettable. No. Far from it.

🌱˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

The library was quiet today, save for the soft rustle of pages from students studying diligently and the occasional creak of the old bookshelves that your university so desperately needed to replace.

You liked it this way, a nice, quiet place far away from everyone, where you could just relax and be alone, and where Solivan’s eyes could follow you without drawing much attention. He was sitting nearby, alone at the end of the big oak table tucked away in one of the library’s four corners.

You had purposefully chosen a spot where he could watch you, presenting yourself out in the open for him. Pretty generous of you, honestly. You could feel it. Sol’s gaze, always lingering on you, his presence a shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision.

Occasionally, you’d glance up on purpose, just to catch a glimpse of his eyes meeting yours before he buried himself back into whatever book he had open, his face flushing that pretty red colour.

It was comforting in a twisted, intoxicating way. You already knew he was infatuated with you. It started off quite tame, to be fair; you hadn’t really noticed him before since he always sat at the back of the class, away from judgmental eyes.

But then the little things started. A shadow following you home, or that burning feeling of being watched.

Then one windy evening, you came back home to your apartment to find your window lock broken, and the place freezing because of it. Naturally, you freaked out. You called Crowe to come assess the damage, check if anything was missing, and to keep you company while you tied a flimsy ribbon around the latch, hoping it would be enough to keep your stalker out.

Unfortunately, Sol needed a lot more than ribbon to deter him.

That same night, he oh so easily undid your makeshift lock and slid right up next to your unconscious sleeping body, stroking your hair and holding your hand as if you were lovers.

Unlucky for him, you were a light sleeper, and the slight brush of his hand woke you. The room was so dark, save for the beams of moonlight streaming through the same window Sol had crept through not too long ago. You could only catch pieces of green and black hair shuffling around as you lay, somewhat petrified, in bed.

Then he spoke.

“My sweet pumpkin… sorry about your lock. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered to you sweetly.

You felt him shift, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before sliding out of your bed, bidding your “sleeping” self goodbye as he slipped back out through your window. By the time you scurried to see his figure outside, he was already gone.

The next day, his actions couldn’t have been more different. You met him face to face in your art class, where you were paired as new partners for the upcoming project.

“My name is Solivan Brugmansia. Sol for short,” he said.

It was the same voice.

At the time, your blood ran cold as you realized the tall, brooding man in front of you was the same one who’d been lying next to you in bed the night before, breaking into your apartment just for a few moments of bliss with you. You.

Were you creeped out? Of course. Scared? Maybe a little. But for some sick reason, you were flattered that he’d taken such a liking to you.

“Sol… like the sun? That’s so cute, considering you’re dressed so… alternatively,” you said, deciding to experiment a little.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against the thick black-and-green choker he wore. Your fingers moved lower to lift the key necklace around his neck, examining it carefully. Hmm. It didn’t look like a key to your apartment, so that was good.

You looked up at him, offering a sweet smile as you stepped back. You noticed how red he’d gotten and how he murmured under his breath about how pretty you were, clearly under the assumption that you hadn’t heard.

Oh, you were going to have fun with this one.

-

Today, you decided to push him further and tease him a little to see how he’d react.

Standing up from your seat, you knew Sol’s eyes would already be on you, watching and studying your every move as you walked over to the English section. To be fair, you actually did need some books for an upcoming research paper but you grabbed one at random in all honesty.

As you scanned the shelves, you found the perfect target: a book just out of reach. You stretched your arm dramatically, fingers brushing the spine but never quite making contact. You let out a dramatic, frustrated sigh, even pouting a little as you looked up at the book, knowing full well Sol was watching.

“Having trouble?” His voice was velvet, smooth and dark, as he appeared from nowhere. His tall figure loomed just behind you, towering over your own, and close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

You turned to him, feigning surprise. “Oh, Sol! I didn’t see you there. Could you help me, please?” You looked up at him with pouty lips and big eyes, clasping your hands together as you played the damsel in distress. And he was eating it up.

His pierced lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes, those intense, bright eyes, burned with something else. “Let me help you.”

He reached over your shorter body, effortlessly pulling the book from its place. His arm brushed yours, and you shivered, allowing the reaction to linger longer than necessary. He noticed. Of course he did.

“Oh, thank you, Sol,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “God, you’re such a lifesaver for me!”

Something flickered in his gaze. Satisfaction? Possessiveness? Maybe it was a bit of both. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

You took the book from his hands, letting your fingers graze his. A deliberate move, subtle but effective. His breath hitched, barely audible, but you caught it.

“Are you studying by yourself?”

Holding the book he’d just grabbed for you close to your chest, an idea popped into your head.

“Yeah, I was uh… sitting over there.”

Sol’s gaze shifted as he gestured to the big oak table he’d been seated at earlier. Thank god he’d picked a more isolated area to reside in.

“Oh my god, perfect! I’ll come sit with you!”

Before he could get an answer in, you zipped back to your study area to gather your bag and papers, carrying it all over to the empty table, save for Sol’s setup, and dropped it all on top.

“You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” he said, glancing at you as he slipped back onto his chair. “I’m fine on my own.”

“I like being with you, though,” you replied, your voice now more quiet since, well, you were in the library. “With you.”

He blinked, his cheeks flushing as he tried to focus back on his book, but you weren’t about to make it that easy for him. You slipped into the chair beside him, leaning slightly over the table as you pretended to skim through the pages of the book he’d grabbed for you.

“Hey, Sol,” you said, your tone sweet but laced with mischief. “Do you think Edgar Allan Poe was really that depressing, or do you think he was just dramatic?”

He looked at you, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “Poe… was a complicated man,” he began. “His life was filled with tragedy, but I think he used his writing as a way to… cope.”

“Hmm,” you mused, tilting your head as if deep in thought. “I don’t know, some of his stuff just seems so… intense. Maybe I’m just not smart enough to get it?” You leaned in closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look.

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, his voice firm. “You’re incredibly intelligent.”

“Aww, you really think so?” you cooed, leaning even closer until your face was mere inches from his. His breath hitched, and you swore you saw his grip tighten on the edge of the table.

Before he could respond, you shifted, swinging a leg over to settle yourself on his lap. His entire body went rigid beneath you, and his face turned a deep, furious red.

“What are you doing?” he stammered, his hands hovering awkwardly near your hips, unsure of where to place them.

“Getting comfortable,” you said simply, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned in close, your lips nearly brushing his ear. “Is that okay?”

He swallowed hard, his hands finally resting on your waist as if he couldn’t help himself. “Y-yeah, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his breaths came out more quickly, staggered, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. The hard press of his cock hidden beneath the layers of clothing between you only confirmed it, and you smiled to yourself, savouring the bit of power you held over him.

You hummed, pretending to be clueless about his… growing problem as you skimmed your books, jotting down notes here and there, while Sol struggled to even get through one paragraph of the book he was reading, your body on top of his becoming too much of a distraction.

The girl of his dreams, the one he snuck out to see every night, the one he studied so closely and had fantasies about, was, right now, in this very moment, sitting on his lap. Her plush ass perfectly slotted against his body. And it was driving him insane.

“Sol?” you asked suddenly, your voice cutting through his haze. “You haven’t turned the page in a while. Is it boring?”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and panicked, as if you’d caught him doing something forbidden. “N-no, it’s fine,” he stammered, his hands flexing against your waist. “Just… distracted.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Distracted? By what?” You leaned in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Is something on your mind? You can talk to me, you know…”

His breath hitched again, and he clutched you tighter as if grounding himself. “No,” he whispered, voice low and strained. “I-I’m okay.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, savoring the way he froze beneath you. “If you’re so sure,” you murmured, your voice laced with a little bit of concern. “Because if you need to talk I’m always here for you sweetness.”

Yeah that did it.

Sol’s pants felt so tight as the curve of your ass shifted on and off his hard, clothed cock, and he bit his lip to try and stifle any noises as you moved around. His hands gripped your waist as he spoke into your ear, low and raspy.

Sol’s hands trembled as they clutched your waist, his knuckles whitening with restraint. “Please… sit still,” he begged, his voice strained and heavy with need.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his plea, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, shifting just slightly, enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. “You seem a little tense, Sol. Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and desperate. “I-I need… I should go.”

Before you could respond, he gently lifted you off his lap and bolted from the table, his long strides carrying him toward the exit of the library and to the left, down the hall to where the bathrooms were tucked away.

You watched him disappear through the library exit, a slow grin spreading across your face. How adorable. He thought he could hide from you.

Leaving your things behind, you followed. The hallway leading to the bathrooms was dimly lit, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above, reminding you for a moment of how shitty this university could be.

You pushed the door open silently, locking it behind you with ease and stepped inside, finding Sol leaning over the sink, his head bowed, gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles were pale. He was panting, looking as if he might pass out from just being teased by you, his hard-on visible to you as it strained against his pants.

“Running away from me, Sol?” you asked, your voice lilting as you closed the distance between you.

He froze, lifting his head up instantly, his reflection in the mirror staring back at you, panic swirling in his bright eyes. “W-What are you doing here?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he turned around to face you.

You stopped just behind him, close enough that your breath brushed along the nape of his neck. “You ran off so suddenly… I got worried,” you murmured, your fingers trailing lightly along the edge of his sleeve, brushing his fingers with yours. “What’s wrong, Sol? Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no,” he choked out, refusing to meet your gaze. His hands flexed against the sink, and you noticed the way his shoulders tensed, his whole body tense with barely-contained frustration.

“You’re lying to me,” you whispered, stepping closer, your chest now pressed flush against his. You slid your hands up his arms slowly, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “You’re so worked up, Sol… what were you planning to do while you're here?”

“I—I wasn’t going to–” he stuttered, but the words died on his lips as your hands moved to his waist, your fingers brushing along the waistband of his pants.

“Shh,” you cooed, standing on the tips of your toes and brushing some of his hair out of the way to press a gentle kiss to his neck. “No need to lie to me sweetness. I already know.”

His breath hitched audibly, and his hands clenched the sink harder as he fought to maintain control. “You can’t just… do this to me,” he rasped, his voice breaking with desperation.

“Do what?” you asked innocently, your lips trailing to his ear. “Help you? Because it seems to me like you need it, Sol.”

You let your fingers dip lower, teasing the button of his pants as you whispered, “So tell me… do you want my help?”

His resolve crumbled in an instant. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whimper. “Please.”

Sol’s hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly, his knuckles were turning white with restraint, but his body was betraying him. He was trembling with need, his chest heaving, every breath shallow and hitched. You could feel his thighs tremble as your hands deftly moved to unzip his pants, undoing some buttons along the way.

You took your time, savoring the moment with this gorgeous man crumbling under your touch and gaze. Slowly, you pressed your body flush against his, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You could feel the stiffness of his arousal, throbbing against the confines of his boxers, and it made your own… area pulsate in response.

“Sol…” you whispered against his ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. So desperate for me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands still resting against the sink, his body shaking as if he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

“I can’t… I can’t take it anymore,” he groaned, his voice cracking. “I need you… now.”

You smiled, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You knew exactly what he wanted, what his body was begging for. You slid your fingers down the waistband of his boxers, barely grazing his skin, and Sol’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward in anticipation.

“Patience, Sol,” you teased, your fingers circling his cock gently, slowly, barely touching but just enough contact to make him shudder. “You’ve been so good for me so far, haven’t you?”

His hands flexed against the sink again, and he let out a low, guttural moan. “I need you,” he whispered again, more urgently now, his voice raw with desperation.

You didn’t make him wait any longer.

With a swift motion, you freed him from the remains of his clothing, your hands finally wrapping around his cock completely. Sol’s body jerked at the contact, his head falling forward onto your shoulder as a sharp gasp left his lips. He was so sensitive, so responsive, and it made your heart race.

“You’re mine now,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding. You began to move your hand slowly, torturously, teasing him just enough to make him squirm, but never enough to let him find release.

Sol’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need, his hands gripping the counter as if it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. “Fuck…” he muttered. “Please… I can’t take it.”

“You can take it, Sol,” you whispered, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve made it this far, haven’t you? You’re going to finish when I tell you to. Understand?”

He nodded his head, never disagreeing with your demands, his eyes were glazed with lust for you, his body twitching with every slow stroke from your hands. “Yes… Yes, I understand.”

Sol whined softly to himself, as you jerked your hand up and down. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, only for you to sweetly tell him to open them back up, of course he obeyed, watching your slow, deliberate movements. The way you were hovering over him right now, your eyes boring into his, as your hands were wrapped around his cock, applying more pressure.

“You’re being so good for me Sol…” you purred, slowly sinking towards the ground, not caring about being in a bathroom, or even caring that you were doing this at your university. You looked up at him sweetly, asking him politely to hold your hair back, and he did it right away, after all how could he refuse?

He gently pulled all your hair back, somewhat neatly wrapping it around his hand, careful to not pull too tightly. He felt your warm hand gently stroke his cock, your lips just inches away, so so close.

Then you started to tease him. Licking up the underside of his length, gently pressing kisses from the base to the tip, your tongue teasing him as he whimpered and started to shake underneath you, completely submitting himself to you.

He could feel your hot breath as you hummed and toyed around with him. You slowly started to take his whole length into your mouth, inch by inch until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. He was in heaven.

Sol gasped at the sensation, his hand tugging at your hair as he watched you bob your head up and down, your hot, wet mouth, and shivered at the way his cock hit the back of your throat.

“P-Please… hah… pumpkin…” Sol called out for you. His legs shook gently as his climax slowly built up, soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips as he bit down on one hand to muffle his noises, your tempo never letting up as you continued to suck on him.

“Can I cum? Please… let me cum for you pumpkin.” He was begging quietly in the bathroom, watching you suck and hearing you make a muffled ‘mhm’ noise with your pretty plump lips wrapped around him, granting him permission without words.

Within seconds, his hands flew to the back of your head, pushing you down as he came into your mouth, moaning softly as he did, and you graciously let him, taking it all as you felt his fingers dig into your scalp. After a few moments he took a deep breath, releasing his grip on you, and falling back against the cool countertop of the bathroom sink.

You looked up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all.

Freak.

Slowly, you started to stand up with a satisfied smile, your eyes meeting Sol’s pretty red-orange ones. He was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling, his skin flushed with heat.

You took a step back, eyes never leaving his, and fixed your own clothes with a bit of deliberate slowness, just to tease him. You tucked your shirt back into your uniform skirt, your fingers trailing over the fabric that dipped between your breasts, noticing that Sol’s gaze followed your every movement, still dazed, and still processing everything that had just happened in the bathroom.

Once you were finished, you stepped closer to him, your body just inches away from his. You tilted your head slightly, studying him with that playful glint in your eyes.

“Guess we’re even now, huh?” you whispered, your lips curling into a sly grin.

Sol’s eyes flickered to yours, his confusion evident even with that lingering haze of pleasure clouding his mind. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I know you’ve been sneaking into my apartment at night, Sol… I can hear you when you’re outside my window, and well… playing with yourself in my bed.”

You pulled back, eyes locking with his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, the sudden panic flashing in his gaze. “I’ll make it easier for you though and leave the window unlocked for you tonight, darling,” you purred, your voice dripping with both sweetness and mischief.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you straightened up, straightening your clothes one last time, watching as Sol stood frozen, his expression a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“Don’t keep me waiting, okay?” you teased, giving him a quick kiss, before turning away and walking towards the door.

You pulled it open, leaving him standing in the bathroom alone to process what had just happened, as you stepped out into the hallway. The last thing you heard before the door clicked shut was his soft mutter, “Damn… she knows?”

You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you walked away, knowing exactly what would happen that night. He was yours from now on.

-`♡´- Usually the big spoon (also confirmed by Fantasia)

I feel like he would love to be the bigger spoon because he wants you to be safe and also feel safe all of the times, you being in his arms, sleeping soundly with him holding you calms him endlessly as he knows nothing can harm you as long as he is there

-`♡´- He would love to caress you

He would caress and massage your back, sides, thighs, arms, hands, face literally whatever. Not only does he want you to feel good he loves to worship your body in every way possible.

-`♡´- Prefers cuddling over sex (unlike some green guy..)

In general I feel like he prefers sweet innocent physical intimacy like holding hands, cuddling, hugging, clinging into each other one way or another any day over sex.

After a long day he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms or even be in your arms, it makes him so happy.

Sometimes he has arguments with his parents or just has a very hard day because of the council so ever since you started cuddling him his stress level dropped significantly. He sleeps so much better now.

Plus whenever you weren't there at night he would, just like Sol, think about you.

-`♡´- Likes to be little spoon too sometimes

Yes he loves to make sure you're safe and that you are snuggled in his side, but honestly he still has some things he needs to discover about himself.

Sometimes he gets overwhelmed because of his responsibilities. His family, family's business, grades, being a class representative and trying to be a good friend for others do catch up to a man eventually so he does burn out.

In those times if you offer him to be the little spoon and nuzzle into your chest, stomach or side he will take it without hesitation. He would love it if you played with his hair and caressed his face, he would absolutely melt under your touch.

-`♡´- Usually falls asleep after you

Making sure you're alright and content, he would almost always wait for you to sleep, also it would give him an opportunity to admire you (not in a creepy way) and think about his life and other things.

If he is the little spoon, though, he will be knocked out in 5 minutes before you even get sleepy.

-`♡´- Very comfortable

I think Crowe would give very good hugs and cuddles. He seems like he is soft and gentle, holding you like you're extremely fragile.

-`♡´- Cuddling as friends?

If he didn't have feelings for you I doubt he would be touchy. If he has a partner/crush he won't be touchy with anyone else, only going for a hug or handshake, so then cuddling or anything beyond friendship is taboo for him.

If he had a crush on you but you were only friends he'd definitely cuddle you any time you asked him!

Solivan Brugmansia

-`♡´- Little spoon but is willing to be the big spoon

I feel like he is both but he does love it when you hold him so much that he can't help but prefer being a little spoon just a little bit more.

He loves it if you cradle him and cup his face, it would overwhelm him with love so much but in the best way possible, he could stay like that all night.

-`♡´- He would always wait for you to fall sleep first

Unlike Crowe that man is taking every chance to stare and focus on you as much as possible, until he is exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open. He would look at you, your eyes, face and body and wonder how did he end up so lucky.

-`♡´- I feel like Sol would take every and any chance to hold you

Now I know it's confirmed he isn't into PDA. And he wouldn't do it in public, but he would need to take you to a private place every couple of hours even if you're out with friends to make out or hold you or just be close to you.

-`♡´- He doesn't sleep much

He definitely sleeps less than you, trust me. He will, however, let you sleep as much as you need and keep watch over you.

-`♡´- Would want you to sleep with him every night

Once he is confident enough, trust me he will invite you over every day, actually you might just spend every day with him, he definitely wouldn't mind.

If you did snuggle up agaisnt him every night, it would become one of the favorite parts of his day.

-`♡´- Would sometimes cry in your arms

I feel like out of all of the men, he would cry in your arms first. Of course he is also trying to hide his sensitive side to an extent but he would get overwhelmed/ upset easily and cry as you hold and comfort him.

He will be very very happy if you comfort him though, his whole day will change for the better.

-`♡´- Cuddling as friends?

If it was anyone else? No.

If it was you? No matter your relationship status he could never deny his soulmate.

Deryl Helianthus

-`♡´- I kind of think he is the little spoon

Honestly he might act confident most of the time but I know he is a softie when it comes to his partner (much like Crowe and Sol!)

He would love to be held, and for any of my Deryl lovers out there please give him many hugs and kisses! Despite his cheerful demeanor, he doesn't feel as loved as he seems, so affection is very important to him.

-`♡´- Instead of being touchy he would be attached (physically and mentally)

He wouldn't caress you too much in my opinion, but he would always have an arm around your waist or shoulder, most of the time bringing you into a crushing hug.

You would get up to go to the bathroom and he would whine not wanting to let you go.

-`♡´- You would have to initiate it most of the times

Eventually he will ask more often, but I do think he gets a little shy at times, so in the beginning you need to go and do it or ask him.

He will always accept your request though, he would have to have a very bad day to not want to cuddle you.

He just feels like he needs to be tough a lot of the times so he needs time to open up.

-`♡´- He could sleep for HOURS

Like I mean 12-14 hours at once if you don't wake him up.

He needs plenty of energy for all that training, gym, classes and being with his friends so whenever he can he sleeps a bunch. He strikes me as the person who sleeps the most in the friend group.

I don't think he is an early bird OR a night owl cause he just goes to sleep at 10-11 pm and wakes up at 10 am to 2 pm whenever his schedule allows him to do so, so mostly on the weekends.

-`♡´- If you hugged him while he was visibly upset he'd be extremely thankful

Well yeah most of us would be, but DERYL would definitely take it to another level. He wouldn't forget it and it would better your bond considerably. He would try to give you the affection back when he could.

-`♡´- Falls asleep first

I just know he would be knocked out in seconds. You can hug him or snuggle up to him, either way he would feel extremely comfortable, becoming very sleepy in a short time.

Hyugo Sugimoto

-`♡´- Would initiate it

I feel like he would become touchy early on, he would love to cuddle as much as possible as it would fill him with energy.

He is a very bubbly and positive person (at least that's the mask he puts on) so he would probably love cuddles a lot.

-`♡´- Little spoon

I feel like he would be the little spoon, honestly. I know he is way tougher than he lets on and he isn't an innocent man at all, but I just feel like with his partner he would still be heartfelt.

I know it's said that Hyugo is crazier than Sol but I feel like that also makes his love or devotion more intense too (maybe not more intense than Sol's)

-`♡´- Early bird AND night owl

He can wake up early and go to sleep sleep late, he is very flexible and can change his schedules easily, a lot of the times he would get up and leave or disappear at random times in the night, leaving you alone.

But don't worry he's not cheating he just has some business to take care of!

-`♡´- He never really cuddled before

He had a past relationship or something with another man I know that, but I think he never got coddled or cuddled growing up or in his life in general so he is kind of new to it.

There’s just something about video games that assurance chaos.

You swear it every time. 

One second, you’re telling yourself, “just a quick match, one round, nothing serious,” and the next thing you know, you’re screaming at your homeboy and your boyfriend for cheating, crumbs of stale chips sliding down your shirt like confetti at a pity parade. Controllers flying, egos bruised, and suddenly a “casual game night” looks like televised war.

For you, Sol, and Hyugo—the two losers you’d wasted most of college with—gaming wasn’t some once-in-a-while bonding activity. No, it was the lifestyle. The religion. The rooftop hangout when classes were boring, the between-class distraction, the after-class cooldown… hell, sometimes the “skip-class-entirely” plan. 

If you weren’t roasting each other through headsets online, you were piled in the same room, yelling at the TV like it personally committed treason.

And tonight? 

The battlefield was Hyugo’s apartment. Again.

At this point, his place had graduated from “apartment” to full-on headquarters: spacious enough for bodies to crash on the floor, stacked with enough consoles to make a gamer jealous, and always stocked with snacks that tasted better just because they weren’t yours. Cozy wasn’t the word. It was the kind of place that swallowed hours whole, the clock jumping from 8 p.m. to 3 a.m. in a blink.

Shoes were already piled at the door, jackets draped carelessly over the couch, soda cans littering the coffee table. The TV’s glow bathed everything in neon light, reflecting off the mess of controllers and half-buzzing phones. 

If someone peeked in from the outside, they’d think it was a chaotic game night with the level of screaming, accusations, and dramatics. But nah—this was way bloodier: a free-for-all tournament.

Hyugo was in first place, smug as ever, the human embodiment of “untouchable.” You were steady in second—your self-proclaimed throne, where you liked to chill and collect wins without sweating too hard. 

And Sol? Dead last. As per usual. 

Which meant Hyugo and Sol were barking at each other like rival dogs fighting over scraps.

Meanwhile, you? You were just vibing. Snacking, crunching loud enough to annoy both of them, watching their dramatics like you paid for front-row seats to a comedy special. Second place didn’t even bother you—you’d mastered the art of staying quiet.

Hyugo had his legs spread wide across the couch like he owned it, leaning back with one arm draped lazily over the cushion and the other casually flicking his joystick. His smirk looked carved in stone, the kind of grin that screamed ‘I don’t even have to try to beat you.’ Every little button-press was punctuated with a satisfied hum, as though he’d choreographed this victory hours ago.

Across from him, Sol was not taking it well.

He was sitting on the floor, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, death-gripping his controller like he was trying to strangle it into submission. Display the clear red flush creeping up his ears. His voice cracked loud enough to rattle the soda cans when Hyugo’s character landed another cheap shot.

“Bro, that was rigged!” Sol yelled, his tone already a perfect mix of betrayal and emo desperation. “You don’t even know how to do that move. You button-mashed—don’t even lie.”

Hyugo tilted his head, cool as ever, eyes still locked on the screen. “Button-mash? Please. That was pure skill. Watch and learn, junior.” He tossed in a lazy shrug for emphasis, like the kill he just landed was a happy accident he’d barely noticed.

You snorted around a mouthful of chips. “Junior? Sol’s literally older than you.”

Hyugo’s grin stretched wider. “Age doesn’t matter when you’re built different.” He tapped his chest with his thumb, as if to say: this is natural-born talent, baby.

“Built different?” Sol’s voice cracked higher, and he threw his controller down onto the carpet with a dramatic thud. “You’re built annoying. That’s it. Nobody’s born with ‘god-tier gamer genetics,’ Hyugo, shut up.”

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” Hyugo fired back instantly, finally glancing over just long enough to give Sol a slow, smug once-over. He even raised his brows like really? that’s the best you got?

Sol grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it straight at him. Hyugo caught it one-handed without looking, set it aside neatly, then went right back to the game.

You nearly choked laughing. “Oh my god, you two are like divorced parents fighting over custody of the console.”

Hyugo leaned back further, smugness practically glowing off him. “Correction: I already won custody. Sol just gets visitation rights.”

Sol groaned so loud it sounded like a dying animal, collapsing backward onto the rug and covering his face with both hands. “I hate it here.”

Hyugo’s grin was pure evil, teeth flashing as he stretched out even more on the couch like he’d just dropped the funniest truth bomb in the room. “You know Sol’s just letting you win, right? Man’s whipped—his pumpkin got him trained by the sound of your voice.”

Sol’s jaw snapped tight. 

You could practically see his vein pulsing, his controller forgotten as his whole soul prepared to clap back.

But you didn’t give him the chance.

You barked out a laugh, wiped chip dust off your hands, and locked eyes with him. “You better not have been letting me win this whole time.”

His eyes went wide, like you’d just betrayed him in the middle of battle. “What?! No! Don’t look at me like that—this clown’s lying!” He shot a finger at Hyugo, who only grinned wider and gave a lazy little shrug, as if to say caught ya, buddy.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, narrowing your eyes with mock suspicion. “Because if you’ve been throwing games out of pity, that makes you the clown.”

“Pity?! Pumpkin, I’d never—” Sol scrambled up to sit properly, dark hair falling into his face as he gestured wildly with his hands, voice cracking like a kettle boiling over. “I don’t take it easy on anyone. You know how many times I’ve smoked Hyugo in ranked? Ask him!”

“Cap,” Hyugo muttered, still lounging like a smug cat in a sunbeam.

“Not cap!” Sol whipped around, eyes wide, “Tell them! Tell them I—”

“Oh, nah,” Hyugo cut in, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Not my business, bro. You already dug the hole. Don’t drag me into your simp grave.”

You snorted so hard you almost choked on air, watching Sol’s face burn with indignation as he whirled back to you.

“I’m not—! This is insane. You believe him over me?!”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “I dunno… Hyugo does look confident. Kinda sus, Sol.”

Sol looked two seconds away from combusting, fists clenching in his lap. “Confident?! He’s confident because he’s a professional troll! That’s all he’s got going for him!”

Hyugo let out a lazy chuckle, finally glancing your way. “Hey, if it works, it works.” He winked. “Besides, if Sol is losing on purpose, maybe it’s just instinct. You say ‘jump,’ he says ‘how high.’ Classic pumpkin behavior.”

“Stop calling me that!” Sol groaned, tossing another pillow his way. Hyugo dodged it with a smug stretch of his arm, shooting you a quick side glance like he’d just scored another kill without lifting a finger.

You pressed your palm to your forehead, torn between laughing harder and defending yourself. “God, I hate you both. Why do I even hang out with clowns like you?”

Hyugo’s grin sharpened. “Because we make your nights interesting.”

Sol threw his hands in the air. “Alright bro, I’m fighting for my life here and you’re just feeding his ego!”

You leaned back, stretching languidly across the couch as Sol huffed beside you, still glaring at Hyugo like he might explode if anyone blinked the wrong way. “Hey,” you murmured, voice softening, tilting your head toward him. “Don’t get so worked up. It’s… cute, but seriously, breathe.”

Sol blinked at you, still defensive, but your hand casually brushed his shoulder. Lazy, teasing, just enough to make him pause. You leaned a little closer, your arm draping lazily over his back as you whispered, “You know… if you calm down, I’ll maybe let you do the thing on me.”

His jaw slackened, a flush red appears. “Wait—what? Are you… serious?”

You smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal, letting your hair fall over your shoulder in a careless sweep. “Depends. You can calm down first, or we’ll just laugh at you while you stew. Your choice, babe.”

Sol groaned, letting a shaky laugh escape despite himself. “Ugh… fine, I’ll… I’ll chill. But this doesn’t erase—”

“Shh,” you whispered, leaning your forehead briefly against his shoulder, fingers lingering at the edge of his shirt. “Just relax. I got ya’.”

Nearby, Hyugo froze mid-gesture, controller hovering uselessly in his hands. Cheeks flushed, chest tightening, and suddenly the grin that usually kept him untouchable felt brittle. 

And that’s when the twist hit him like a punch to the gut.

He was supposed to be smug, supposed to be part of the chaos—but here you were, leaning into Sol, whispering, smirking, fingers grazing, and the way he laughed at your teasing like you were some effortless magician conjuring obedience…

Wait… why am I feeling left out?

Because that’s exactly what he was: The Constant Third Wheel. Always had been, probably always would be.

You and Sol had this… magnetic pull, the kind of energy that made him both laugh and groan simultaneously. 

You were the mischief-maker, dragging them into pranks, setting up traps for professors or random strangers on campus. Sol, of course, couldn’t resist taking the bait—jumping, shouting, throwing hands when things escalated, getting into fights over stupid pretty shit or arcade bragging rights. 

And Hyugo? 

He was supposed to be the “balance” of it all.  Except somehow, he always ended up missing the chaos or sticking behind to clean up the wreckage you and sol left behind. And yet, here he was, watching this little bubble form between you two. Silent words in your eyes, laughter tangled with breath, tiny sparks of intimacy that made his chest ache.

You handled Sol with the effortless ease of a general commanding a puppy battalion: sharp commands softened by playful authority, teasing without cruelty, and somehow Sol obeyed, leaned in, blushed, laughed, melted—perfectly and utterly yours.

Hyugo’s throat went dry. 

Was it wrong to like that? To like the way you moved through chaos like it was a second skin, commanding Sol’s attention and affection so naturally, while he… watched?

He shoved a hand through his teal hair, brushing strands behind his ear, pretending to check his phone while his gaze lingered far too long. His stomach twisted with a familiar ache—a mix of envy, longing, and guilt.

Because he knew. He knew exactly who you loved, and it wasn’t him. 

It’s Sol. 

And yet, being here, being allowed this close to your world, even as the ever-reliable third wheel, was both torture and the only thing keeping him tethered to nights like this.

He’d carried it since that night—the Discord call.

A night filled with laughter, of cheap jump scares, of physics-defying monster chases. The horror game had started the way it always did: loud, stupid, full of cheap jump scares and you roasting him every time he shrieked in proximity chat. You’d both been laughing so hard at one point he almost dropped his controller. 

Just Classic. Easy. Harmless. Except he’d left halfway through. Just ten minutes—bathroom, water, whatever excuse. He came back, headset sliding on, only to realize he’d walked into something else entirely.

You. Different.

Not the usual you who dominated every argument, who shoved him around with that smug grin and sharp tongue. No—this was a quieter kind of control. Your voice was low, steady, coaxing. Still dominant, but patient. Dangerous. And Sol—poor, flustered Sol—was eating it up, stammering into his mic like you’d stolen the air out of his lungs.

Hyugo froze. He’d expected more screaming, more of your usual biting jokes.

Instead, his headset was filled with your voice—a smooth, teasing cadence that wrapped around him, controlled and utterly maddening. It did something to his gut, something hot and tight. He stared at his screen, fingers slack on the controller, completely paralyzed.

He’d never admit it, not even under torture, but the sound of you taking charge short-circuited something fundamental in him. 

Watching you lead, your confidence a quiet force that had both him and Sol unconsciously falling in line, was a different kind of aphrodisiac. It was the way you dressed, the way your body moved when you were focused, the effortless command in your tone—it all conspired to send blood rushing south, making his cock twitch insistently against his jeans.

This had been happening too often. 

After the incident, he’d lost count of the times he’d had to mute his mic and turn off his camera, just to grip his own throbbing cock through his pants, desperate for relief before he made a mess of himself. 

There were even times you’d asked, during other gaming sessions at his place or sol’s place, or simply hanging out, genuine concern in your voice, "You okay, Hyuhyu? You keep zoning out." He’d had to excuse himself so fast, scrambling to the restroom before the image of you looking at him like that pushed him over the edge.

And it wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that Sol got the softness, the playful attention. It wasn't fair that Hyugo was the one in solitude,palm pressed hard over his mouth to stifle his groans as he pictured it was his name you were cooing, his performance you were praising, his cock you were—

No stop! 

Hyugo shakes his head, just by sitting beside you on the couch, the memory hit him with the force of a physical blow. That night had been a tipping point. The carefully constructed dynamic—you, the smug menace who bossed him around; him, the defiant rival—had shattered.

Because the truth was, hearing you like that—coaxing instead of mocking, giving instead of taking—had utterly ruined him. His stupid, traitorous brain kept replaying it, twisting the memory into something horny, something that had him lying awake at night with his fists clenched, fighting the vivid image of you leaning in close, your voice like smoke, telling him exactly what to do.

The worst part?

He couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted it. He didn't just want you to look at him. He wanted you to use that voice on him—be cold but intimate, uncaring but utterly focused, as if he were the only person in your world. He wanted to feel the weight of your command.

The realization was a punch to the chest, leaving him breathless.

Maybe he didn't just have a crush.

Maybe he was completely, desperately fucked.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, leaning back as the menu loop droned on. Totally impossible. And yet, when you nudged his shoulder with yours, eyes half-lidded, voice lazy as you teased, “Already sulking for the next game?” his whole chest clenched like you’d caught him mid-confession.

Pathetic. That’s what it was. Hyugo was pathetic. Because one Discord call, one slip of your voice, had him spiraling. And now, every laugh, every brush of your arm, every stupid inside joke between you just cemented the fact:

He was in deep. Way too deep. 

And you didn’t even know about it.

And now, as you leaned back, smirk tugging at your lips while Sol fumed and fumbled below you, sitting on the floor, Hyugo realized something else: no matter how many pranks you pulled, how many fights Sol started, how many games you dominated, he’d never be just a friend in the way you were to each other. He was the observer, the cleanup crew, the spectator of chaos, always caught between laughter and longing.

Yet even so, when you flashed that grin, the one that had Sol melting, he couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop tracing the easy rhythm between you two. Couldn’t stop the quiet, burning thought that maybe—just maybe—he wanted it too.

Even if it was wrong. 

Even if it was never his to have.

He coughed, cleared his throat, forcing a laugh as he nudged the controller. “Uh… you two done plotting world domination over me yet?”

You glanced over your shoulder, smirk tugging at your lips. “Don’t worry, Hyugo. I’ll save you a front-row seat—”

He blinked. No, no, this is wrong.

But the corner of your mouth twitched, and Hyugo knew, deep down, that maybe, just maybe… he didn’t want to leave that front-row seat. The spell of the moment broke when Sol cleared his throat, voice still pink around the edges from your earlier stare. “Alright, alright. Can we start playing again before I lose my mind?”

You leaned back, crunching on what little remained of your snacks, and smirked. “Yeah, but lowkey… we’re running dry in here. We need more fuel. I swear the three of us eat like a pack of raccoons.”

Hyugo stood up almost instantly, brushing teal strands back from his face. “Then let’s go to the store.”

You groaned, dramatic, sinking into the couch cushions. “Mmm… don’t really feel like going outside right now. Hair a mess right now.”

Sol shot you a look, lips quirking. “Lazy.”

Then, with a grin, he jabbed a thumb at Hyugo. “Hyugo can go. He knows what we like anyway.”

Hyugo froze, shoulders stiff. Go alone? 

And leave you here—with Sol—in his apartment, surrounded by his things? No. Absolutely not. He pictured it already: you and Sol sprawled on his couch, laughter echoing in his space, your voice soft in ways he’d never hear for himself. Forty-five minutes at least. An eternity. 

He wouldn’t risk it.

“Yeah, no,” Hyugo cut in quickly, shaking his head. “Not happening. You think I’m leaving my place with you two unsupervised? Not a chance.” His tone was playful, but his chest felt hot, heavy. “You’d burn the place down—or worse.”

“Worse?” you mocked, raising a brow.

Hyugo’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away, hiding behind a hand raking through his hair. “You know what I mean.”

“Fine,” you said, standing suddenly, a sly grin tugging at your lips, energy shifting like a tide. “Sol can go. He came in last place, didn’t he? Punishment.”

Sol blinked, caught off guard, “Wait, what—no, that’s not—”

But you were already nudging him toward the door, laughter dancing in your voice. “C’mon, loser. Go fetch. You owe us snacks.”

“That’s not fair!” Sol protested, half stumbling, half laughing as you shepherded him forward. But he melted under your attention, defenses crumbling as soon as your voice softened, just enough praise in your tone to make him sigh and tug on his jacket. Sneakers on, laces tied, hair mussed from the rush—but he was obedient. Always.

Hyugo sank back into the couch, eyes flicking away, jaw tight. It wasn’t impressive anymore, watching Sol fold so easily for you. 

A few words. One look. That’s all it took.

You leaned close as Sol paused at the threshold, tilting your head just so, and whispered something into his ear—soft, teasing, almost intimate. It made him freeze for a heartbeat, cheeks heating, lips quirking into a tiny, nervous grin. Then he mumbled, “…okay,” before stepping toward the door.

Hyugo’s chest ached in quiet, torturous waves. 

He still lowkey hated how easily you commanded Sol, the way your laughter wrapped around him, the subtle, effortless way you drew him in without even touching. Sol adored you, clearly loved the little jabs and teasing, the dominance that wasn’t cruel—just playful. And you handled it like it was nothing, as though guiding him, coaxing him, bending him to your rhythm was the most natural thing in the world.

Hyugo watched, pink creeping into his cheeks, fingers brushing through his long teal hair, jaw clenched, eyes flicking away like a guilty child caught staring at something he shouldn’t. He couldn’t tear his gaze from you, not really, even as he told himself to look away.

And yet…

Every little glance, every whispered word, every shared smirk between you two felt like it carved its way into him. The way Sol’s face lit up under your attention. The way you could make him laugh, fluster, and obey—all without even trying. 

Hyugo envied him. Desperately.

The second Sol left, the door clicked shut behind him—lock sliding into place like punctuation. You turned, back against the wood for a beat, listening to the sound fade down the hall before pushing off and heading back toward the living room.

You made your way back to the living room, just the low hum of the console menu looping through the speakers and the faint creak of the couch when you sat back down.

Unaware of Hyugo’s pulse thudded in his ears, his knee bouncing as he stared down at his hands. He didn’t look up, couldn’t. His mind just kept running the same line on repeat like a broken record:

Don’t look. Don’t want. Don’t ruin this.

He already knew how this went. You and Sol—there was a thing there, something unspoken but obvious. Hyugo had made his peace with that months ago. He was the sidekick, the best friend, the comic relief. Not competition. Definitely not the guy who got to sit here wondering what your laugh would sound like if it was only meant for him.

So he did what he always did—slapped on the playful grin. 

That easy, smug expression that made him look untouchable.  “Alright,” he said suddenly, voice cutting through the quiet as he straightened up. He clapped his hands once, loud and sharp. “Since Sol’s off doing his little snack pilgrimage, we might as well play something that doesn’t tank my IQ. You in?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Something that doesn’t tank your IQ? Hyugo, the last three times I wasn’t here, Sol literally beat your ass.”

“Glitch,” Hyugo deadpanned, snatching a case from the shelf. “Obviously.” He popped it open and slid the disc in with practiced ease. “Anyway, this one’s just a warm-up. For fun. I’ll even let you play this time.”

You snorted, leaning against the armrest. “How generous. So I can carry you again?”

He flashed that grin, sharp enough to cut. “Cute. Keep talking. You’ll see who’s carrying who in about five minutes.”

Then he dropped back onto the couch, sprawling like he owned the place—arms stretched over the backrest, legs wide, posture loud and cocky. But even with all that exaggerated confidence, there was space left open beside him.

Yet, you ignored the open space next to him—completely, shamelessly, like it wasn’t even there.

Instead, you slid onto the couch behind Hyugo. Not beside. Not across. Behind. Moving with that lazy, confident ease that said you’d already decided this was happening. You tucked your legs under yourself and settled in, knees pressing lightly against his sides like a human frontrest.

Hyugo froze mid-breath.

You leaned forward a little, your chest pressing against his back, casual like it was nothing, and suddenly his entire nervous system decided to stage a rebellion. 

His grip on the controller tightened; his eyes widened a fraction. The man was malfunctioning. “…Uh,” he croaked, voice breaking halfway through, “What—what are you doing?”

“Better view,” you said smoothly, your breath grazing his ear as you peeked over his shoulder at the screen. “I can see your hand movements this way.”

Hyugo blinked once. Then twice. Slowly turned his head toward the camera like this was a live recording of his suffering. “What?”

You just hummed, perfectly content. “Makes more sense. I like seeing how you play.”

Hyugo stared straight ahead, jaw tight. “You know… most people sit next to their friends. Like normal human beings.”

You rested your chin on his shoulder, the picture of innocence. “Relax. You’re not just a friend, and also, I do this to Sol all the time.”

That did it.

Hyugo’s whole expression moved. “You— you what?”

“Yeah,” you said lightly, shifting to get more comfortable—which, by the way, only made it worse. “He doesn’t mind. Says it keeps me from yelling at his terrible aim.”

Hyugo made a strangled noise in the back of his throat—half laugh, half internal screaming. “Oh, sure, yeah, great. No big deal. Totally fine. I’m just— a chair now. That’s cool. Everyone needs a… human gaming chair.”

You snorted softly against his shoulder. “Exactly. You’re getting it.”

He stared at the screen, deadpan, trying to pretend like his pulse wasn’t about to start Morse coding distress signals through his neck. “Yeah. Totally normal. This is… fine.”

It wasn’t fine.

Inside, his brain was doing donuts in the parking lot. 

You were in soft, loose loungewear, the fabric whispering against him every time you shifted. The warmth of you pressed close— comfortable, familiar, but far too charged for his nervous system to survive intact. Your knees framed his sides, your breath touched the back of his neck, and he swore he could feel the pulse at your throat through the air between you.

Every inch of him was aware of you—the faint scent of you, the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet hum that lived in the space where your bodies nearly met. He could feel it, that gravity, dragging him in. No big deal, you’d said. 

No. Big. Deal.

He laughed, the sound thin and too bright. “Yep. No big deal,” he muttered, mashing buttons on the controller like the screen could save him. Spoiler: it definitely did. 

Because this was not no big deal. This was a crisis. A full-blown, emotional, cardiac event disguised as ‘friendly gaming.’ And when you murmured, all casual, “You’re tensing up, Hyugo. You okay?”

He nearly dropped the controller. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m chiling,” he said quickly, voice cracking halfway through. He coughed, as if that would erase the evidence.

You tilted your head, grinning. “What, nervous? Afraid I’ll distract you?”

He didn’t—couldn’t—look at you. “Nah. You could sit upside-down and I’d still win.”

Lie. He was already losing, completely derailed by the heat coming off you. His heart was beating like the game’s soundtrack, thudding too loud in his chest. Every small laugh that brushed his ear, every shift of the couch cushions, made it harder to think.

Then the match loaded in. Music kicked up. Armor on.

“Ready to lose?” he shot back, grin sliding into place like nothing had happened.

You smirked, leaning closer again. “You’re about to eat dirt.”

Five minutes later—

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Hyugo stretched like he’d just won a championship, arms up, controller dangling loosely from his hand. “First round goes to me,” he announced, grin pure smugness. He leaned back a little, just enough that his shoulder brushed you. You could practically feel the satisfaction radiating off him.

You squinted at the screen. Then at him. “Cheating. I’m calling it.”

He didn’t even look away from the scoreboard. “Or maybe,” he said, tone infuriatingly casual, “you’re just bad.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, it’s on.”

Before he could blink, you shifted position—quick, decisive, and absolutely personal. You slid closer, knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him, and reached around so your controller hovered just above his. Your arms boxed him in, your hands working over the same airspace as his, and the second match began like a scene from an overly dramatic esports documentary.

Hyugo’s whole body went rigid.

You? Completely oblivious. Locked in.

The second the match started again, your focus tunneled straight to the screen. Your face nearly brushed his as you leaned forward, fingers flying. “C’mon, c’mon—no way you’re getting another one—”

Meanwhile, Hyugo’s entire nervous system was malfunctioning. His brain screamed to move, but his body refused. He was suddenly hyperaware of every small thing—your laugh just beside his ear, the way your sleeve brushed his arm, the faint sound of you breathing when the game got quiet.

And somehow, despite all that, he still won.

“HYU!” you barked, tossing your head back in frustration. “Way to go. Fucking Hyugo. You’ve definitely played this way too much, huh?” Sarcasm sharp, tone dripping with frustration.

Hyugo snorted, trying to look cool even though his face was betraying him. “Natural talent,” he said, voice half a pitch higher than usual.

“Sure,” you muttered, crossing your arms and glaring at the respawn screen.

“Or maybe,” he said lightly, fingers still idly tapping the controller, “you’re just bad.”

“Oh, it’s on.”

Before he could blink, you slid your arms under his, controller locking right over his. Your torso pressed against his back, thighs snug on either side. Hyugo went completely still—like his soul just blue-screened.

You leaned forward, forehead nearly bumping his shoulder, muttering, “C’mon, c’mon, try me now, let’s see how cocky you are—”

Hyugo’s entire body heat up. Every breath came shallow, stuttering, his pulse crawling up the side of his neck. He could feel you move—everywhere. The faint brush of your knee, your arm sliding just slightly against his, the warmth of your voice rumbling against his back. His hands tightened around the controller like it was a lifeline.

And somehow, he still won.

“Hyugo!” you groaned, smacking your head lightly against his back. “No way. No way. You’re cheating. You’ve definitely played this too much, huh?”

Hyugo laughed—too loud, too sharp, like he was trying to drown out his own heartbeat. “Guess some of us are naturals.”

“Another round,” you said, chin practically bumping his shoulder. He froze. Controller still in hand, eyes glued to the screen. Then, slowly, subtly, he leaned forward—away from you.

“Uh-huh.” You tilted your head, watching him like a cat watching a bug. “Why’re you moving away like that?”

“No reason,” he said too fast, voice cracking a little at the end. “Just—next round, yeah?”

You leaned in closer, voice dripping with teasing sugar. “Hyuuuugo,” you sang out, dragging the name like you were tasting it. “Your pale ass is glowing. You’re redder than Sol after one shot. You overheating, or you catching feelings?”

He froze, and the look on his face should’ve told you everything.

But you didn’t catch it. Not at first.

Hyugo muttered something strangled, almost unintelligible, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you sound fine,” you teased, poking his side with the controller, “Just admit you’re embarrassed I almost beat you.”

“You didn’t,” he grumbled.

“Almost,” you said, grinning against his shoulder like you knew it would annoy him.

He didn’t look at you. Not once. His teal hair fell forward, shadowing half his face, and that alone should’ve been your first clue. The air felt heavier now—warm, static, charged in ways you didn’t mean for it to be. Every time you leaned in, the couch dipped slightly, pulling you closer. Every movement, every breath felt exaggerated in the silence between button clicks.

And then it hit you. The realization. 

How close you really were.

How your chest was pressed against his back. How your knees bracketed his sides. How your breath brushed the back of his neck when you leaned in too far, and how he—quiet, stiff, too still—wasn’t teasing you back. Not laughing, not pushing, not doing anything.

He wasn’t playing along.

You swallowed, guilt crawling hot up your spine.

God, how hadn’t you noticed? How could you have been that oblivious? You’d been all over him—touching him, crowding him—without even asking if he was okay with it. 

And he just sat there, allowing it.

You pulled back like you’d been burned, heat rushing to your own cheeks. “...Hyugo.” Your voice came out softer than you meant it to, threaded with something raw. “Shit—hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—uh—get all up in your space like that. I wasn’t thinking.”

He didn’t turn right away. His fingers stilled on the controller, and for a second, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the console. Then he exhaled, slow, measured, setting the controller down on his thigh.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” you added quickly, eyes flicking away. “You can just say if I’m too close or—whatever. I’ll move.”

Hyugo’s head snapped toward you so fast his hair shifted over his shoulder. His lips parted, like he wanted to say ‘no, it’s fine,’ but the words got tangled somewhere between his throat and pride. He blinked once, twice, then shook his head, a little too quickly.

“It’s not that,” he muttered.

You frowned, still hesitant. “Then what is it?”

He didn’t answer right away—his jaw flexed, gaze fixed on the glowing screen like he was trying to anchor himself to something that wasn’t you. “Don’t… don’t act different just because I’m acting weird,” he said finally, quiet but firm.

You blinked, unsure what to do with that. “I’m not acting different, I just—” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, Hyu. That’s all.”

He laughed, low and forced, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t,” he said—too fast, too defensive. His ears betrayed him, though—still pink, still burning.

“Okay,” you murmured, suspicious, “if that’s the case… spill, Hyu.”

The couch dipped as you turned to face him properly. You weren’t touching him anymore—not really—but your knees still brushed when you shifted, that small, barely contact grounding you both in the thick quiet between you.

Hyugo didn’t pull away this time. If anything, he leaned the tiniest bit closer, like his body hadn’t gotten the memo that his brain was currently waving a thousand red flags. His eyes stayed glued to the controller in his lap, thumb fidgeting with the joystick like it was the only thing keeping him from self-destructing.

Silence. Then a sharp sigh. His shoulders sagged.

“If I tell you…” he muttered, voice low, strained, “you’re not gonna judge me?”

You blinked. That tone—half serious, half oh god, he’s actually stressed. “Whatever it is,” you said, matching his quiet, “I’m not gonna judge you.”

He didn’t believe that for a second. You could see it in the way his jaw worked, in the way he kept inhaling like he was about to say something but then stopped, like the words were traitors he couldn’t risk setting free.

Inside, Hyugo’s brain was an absolute war zone.

Okay. You can’t tell them you like them. That’s insane. You’ve known them for—what—months? Weeks? Long enough to know they sit way too close and smell good but not long enough to say, hey, you’re short-circuiting my nervous system.

He was practically vibrating with contained panic, staring at the screen like the gaming console menu would suddenly offer emotional support. The music looped again—just repetitive and taunting. Every time that cheerful tune restarted, it felt like the universe was mocking him.

You watched him quietly, brow furrowed. “You look like you’re debating whether to confess a crime.”

That got a reaction—barely. The corner of his mouth twitched, but the smile never quite made it. His eyes darted to you and back again, quick, like he’d looked directly into the sun.

You tilted your head, unimpressed. “Alright, what is this, huh? You—what—steal my snack stash? Read my texts? Accidentally order ten pounds of detective comics off my Amazon?”

He didn’t move nor blink. Just stared at the controller like it personally offended him.

“…Wait a sec.” You gasp, leaning closer like you’ve just uncovered a scandal. “Don’t tell me this is about the Discord call the other night.”

That’s the kill shot.

Hyugo freezes mid-breath—controller half-raised, shoulders locking up like his soul just blue-screened. His head whips toward you so fast you swear you hear his neck pop. “What—no—why would it be about that?” he blurts out, voice pitching halfway through like he’s sixteen and lying to his mom.

You blink at him, then grin slow and wicked. “Oh my god.” The grin breaks into full-blown laughter. “It is about that!”

“Stop—” he tries, but it’s too late.

You lean back, waving a hand. “Hyugo, relax. If you’re embarrassed ‘cause you breathed too hard into your mic, you’re fine. Half the people in that call sounded like Darth Vader with asthma.”

He drags a hand down his face, muffling what sounds like a growl—or maybe a dying prayer. His teal hair slips through his fingers as he groans, “You’re so wrong but so right at the same time…”

You pause. Normally, this is where he’d smack your knee with the controller, toss some sarcastic jab your way, call you “annoying” in that lazy, affectionate way he does. But this time? Nothing.

He just… shuts down.

Hyugo leans back against the couch, body turned away, shoulders rigid. The flickering screenlight cuts across his face—tense, jaw flexing, knuckles white around the controller. You can feel him closing himself off like slamming a door.

The laughter drains out of you. “...Hyu.” Your voice drops soft, careful now. “Whatever this is—it’s eating you alive. If you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna keep guessing until you do.”

The game menu loops again. Fifth time. Sixth. You swear you can hear the faint static hum of his thoughts frying themselves. Then—he laughs. Not the normal one, not that cocky chuckle. This one’s cracked and breathless, like it’s been fighting to escape.

“Look,” he mutters finally, shutting his eyes like if he can’t see you, maybe the confession won’t count. “It wasn’t the mic, okay?” His voice catches—almost a whisper. “It was you. That night. During the call.”

Your brows lift, somewhat pointing at yourself “...Me?”

He exhales, long and ragged, still not looking at you. “That night. During the the co-op horror game. The one where I left so abruptly. You think it was the jump scares? It wasn’t.” He swallowed, the motion painful and obvious, a flush of scarlet burning its way up his neck. 

“You leaned into your mic. Your voice dropped to that… that whisper.” His tone wavered, rough and uneven. “Like, I know It was meant for Sol, just a bit of roleplay to mess with him, but it wasn’t him who fucking short-circuited. It was me.”

You stare at him, a few blinks behind his meaning. “…Ohhh,” you said at last, nodding slowly as if the pieces had finally clicked. “Right. Yeah. Okay. I get it now.”

Hyugo looks… hopeful? Cautious? He leans forward slightly, like you’re about to say something profound.

You ruin it instantly.

“Yeah, no, I totally get it. That night was wild, Sol was being such a horndog. I’d be embarrassed too if I had to witness that.” You laugh under your breath, waving it off. “Seriously, don’t even worry about it. He’s always like that—one flirty tone and he’s ready to combust. Man needs holy water.”

Hyugo just stares at you, face blanking in disbelief before contorting into something like visible pain.

“That’s—no—that’s not—” He’s sputtering, red to the ears. “I wasn’t talking about Sol!”

You freeze mid-gesture, your hand still half-raised. “…You weren’t?”

He looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His voice comes out half-strangled. “No! Not him!”

You squint, baffled, tilting your head. “Then what are you—wait—what the hell are you embarrassed about, then?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You can practically hear the moment his last thread of patience snaps—his chest rising with a shaky inhale, eyes darting anywhere but your face, like he’s seconds away from combusting.

You, of course, are still blissfully clueless.

For a moment, the only sound is thata damn game menu music looping, an absurdly cheerful little tune undercutting the gravity of the room. Hyugo drags in a sharp breath through his nose, shoulders quaking like he’s holding himself together by sheer force of will. When he finally speaks again, his voice has dropped low—hoarse and dangerous in its honesty.

“You.”

The word isn’t spoken; it’s hurled at you, a single, damning accusation that steals the air from your lungs.

Hyugo’s head lifts, teal hair falling into his eyes, but for once he doesn’t hide behind it. He pins you there with a look that’s almost feral—flushed, furious, and hurting all at once. “It wasn’t Sol. It wasn’t the game.” His voice shakes, low and rough, like gravel dragged across steel. 

“It was you.”

He blurts it, no warning, like it’s been rotting behind his teeth and he can’t hold it anymore. His whole body’s leaning forward now, shoulders tight, fists digging into his thighs.

“Your voice. That night.” He lets out a short, broken laugh—dark, bitter, ugly. “Every breath you took, every whisper you aimed at him—supposed to be for him—I sat there and jerk off to it. Let it crawl under my skin until it fucking burned.”

His fingers flex, curl, uncurl, like he doesn’t even know where to put them. “Do you even get what that does to a guy?” His voice drops lower, rougher. “Hearing you sound like that—soft, low, intimate—wrecked me. It put pictures in my head. Shit I had no right to imagine. And I couldn’t stop. You were giving it to him with your voice, and I—” His jaw locks so hard it looks painful. “—I just broke.”

Then it all spills. 

“I had to do something. So yeah. I jerked off to your voice. Right there. In the dark.” He huffs a humorless laugh, eyes squeezed shut like he’s bracing for a hit. “Like some fucking animal. And it didn’t even work. Didn’t get you out of my head.”

He drags a hand down his face, teal hair sticking to his damp forehead, his breathing uneven. “This isn’t new. I’ve been fighting this for months. Fighting you.” When his eyes finally snap open—pleading and defiant at the same time. “So go ahead. Tell me I’m a freak. Tell me I made it all up. That I invented the way you sound, the way your breath hitches when you laugh. Tell me I’m crazy for wanting you so bad it feels like a sickness.”

You blinked.

Stared at him for a long, painfully slow second, like your brain was still downloading the absurd magnitude of what he’d just admitted. Then—soft, low, ridiculous chuckle. Not a “holy shit,” not a freak-out, just… a laugh.

“Okay, and?” you said, voice casual, like he’d just told you he ate your leftovers.

Hyugo’s jaw went slack. Eyes wide. Hands frozen mid-air, like he’d been caught in the act of the most unspeakable crime ever. “Wait… wait, what—?!”

You bent down, plucked the controller from the ground where it had fallen during his confession, and held it out to him like it was nothing. “Here,” you said, casually, “come on, an actual round before Sol gets back.”

His brain short-circuited. 

Did you just… treat that like it was normal? 

“You’re… not gonna hit me? Unfriend me? Call the cops?” He asked, still confused, watching you.

You, wearing casual smile across your face, sliding yourself back behind him. This time, you moved fully back into your usual position: legs warping around his sides, arms slipping under his, chin resting lightly on his shoulder, controller in hand.

Just perfectly casual. 

“Oh my god, no, callin’ the cops seem a bit extreme,” you said, voice low, “plus close friends share weird stuff. We survive. We move on. Game time, right?”

Hyugo froze again, blinking like he’d landed in some parallel universe where this is just… normal. Slowly, hesitantly, he took the controller, holding it like it might spontaneously combust. “Right… right…” he muttered, eyes flicking nervously from the screen to your face, to the way your body was draped all over his.

You tapped a button, nudged slightly forward with your weight, smirking. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna make you redo your confession.”

His jaw tightened. Fingers twitched over the buttons, still half-expecting some sort of retaliation. But the longer he sat there, controller in hand, chin under your shoulder, legs snug against his sides, the more absurd it all felt. You weren’t mad, you weren’t grossed out, you weren’t even teasing him too much.

Hyugo let out a strangled laugh, low and panicked. 

How… how can you… be so chill about this?

Meanwhile, you leaned closer, murmuring, “Focus up, loser. You’re about to get stomped again.”

The flush on his face? Peak crimson. The sweat on his palms? Peak nervous. And deep down, Hyugo realized… you weren’t losing your mind.

Not even a little. 

Which, honestly, made him lose even harder.

The game started, but Hyugo’s focus was in tatters. His entire world had narrowed to the points of contact between your body and his. You pressed yourself even closer against his back, your chest to his shoulder blades, your chin a persistent, warm weight on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna lose,” you mumbled, your voice a low, pouting hum directly beside his ear. Your breath ghosted over his skin, and he flinched, his character on screen stumbling. “Why are you so stiff all of a sudden?”

He couldn’t form a sentence. Why were you acting so familiar, so normal, after his nuclear confession? 

It was maddening.

Then, you shifted. Your lips brushed the shell of his ear before your teeth closed, gentle but careful, on the sensitive tip of his earlobe. A sharp jolt shot down his spine.

“You know,” you began, your voice conversational even as you licked a slow, soothing stripe over the spot you’d just bitten, “a lot of people get it wrong. With a joystick… the thickness is way more important than its stiffness.”

Your eyes, all knowing, looking down. His grey sweatpants did nothing to hide the hard, aching line of his erection, tenting the fabric and visibly throbbing with his heartbeat. You didn’t pause your gameplay. You simply brought your hand down, palm flat, and rubbed it slowly, intentionally over the length of him.

Hyugo gasped, his head falling back against your shoulder. His controller slipped in his sweaty grip. “I mean,” you continued, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as your fingers traced his outline through the soft cotton, “size and thickness are both important, sure. But at the end of the day…” You squeezed him gently, and a broken moan was torn from his throat. 

“…it’s not gonna feel good if it’s not hard.”

You licked his ear again just as the triumphant fanfare of the game’s end screen blared. He’d lost. He hadn’t moved his controller in over a minute.

“Called it,” you said, poking his burning red cheek. “You totally choked.”

“W-What are you… what are you doing?” he stammered, his body trembling, caught between pushing into your touch and fleeing from the overwhelming sensation.

You stilled your hand, your expression turning knowing. “I knew, by the way,” you said softly. “About that night.”

Hyugo’s blood ran cold. “What?”

“That you were there. In the Discord call. Sol was… distracted. His screen was probably full of me. He didn’t notice the third member lurking in the room.” You shrugged, a casual, infuriatingly graceful movement. “Kinda our fault for staying in the group chat instead of going private. But I saw the user list. I saw you.”

His breath hitched. 

You knew. Fuck, you really knew. All this time, you knew.

“I wondered when you’d finally bring it up,” you mused, your fingers moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. “After all, it happened five months and four weeks ago.”

No, like dead ass part one was that long ago. I’m so so sorry, y'all.

With a deft flick, you untied the drawstring and pushed the fabric down his hips. His pale cock sprang free, hard and desperate, the tip already glistening with precum. You wrapped your fingers around him, not quite stroking, just holding him, feeling the frantic pulse under your palm.

“So,” you whispered, your thumb sweeping over the slick head, smearing the moisture, rubbing gentle, torturous circles that made his hips buck and his eyes screw shut. “Are you going to tell me to stop?”

Hyugo’s eyes flew open. They were wide, filled with lust and shame. “This is… this is cheating. You and Sol… and you’re still willing to…”

You increased the pressure of your thumb, and his protest died in a guttural groan.

“No,” he pleaded, the word a raw, broken admission. He looked at you, all his defenses gone, completely laid bare. “No, don’t… don’t stop. Please.”

A slow, playful smile curved your lips. “Good boy.”

After all, this was his chance. 

And you were finally, mercifully, taking pity on him.

In the space of a single second, you moved. Your arm, which had been draped so casually over his shoulder, now became an anchor. Your hand slid down his chest, over the frantic beat of his heart, past the tense muscles of his stomach, until your fingers found the desperate, straining heat of him through his pants.

Hyugo gasped, a sharp, choked sound. His eyes, wide with shock and raw need, locked with yours. You held his gaze, unblinking, as your fingers worked his cock with an unnerving, slowness.

“You wanted my voice, Hyu?” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as your hand finally closed around him. He was hard and hot, and as you noted his size—not the largest you’d ever held, but perfectly, enticingly substantial—a slow smile curved your lips. 

“You sat in the dark and let it wreck you. Now you’re going to get it. I’m going to wring you dry with it, just like you wished for.” Your praise was a weapon, and it shattered him. 

“You’re doing so well for me,” you whispered, your thumb circling his tip, spreading the bead of moisture that had gathered there. He shuddered violently, his head falling back against the couch. “So responsive. Just from my voice and my touch. It’s beautiful.”

You tightened your grip, setting a relentless, slick rhythm. “How does it feel, Hyu? Tell me.”

A broken groan was torn from his throat. “It’s… good. So good. Please—”

“Please what?” you coaxed, your voice a low, intimate purr. But you didn’t wait for an answer. With your other hand, you cupped his jaw, forcing his head to turn and his glazed eyes to meet yours. “Look at me.”

Then you kissed him. 

You pushed past his parted lips with your tongue, claiming the taste of his stifled moans. Your legs, still wrapped around him from behind, pulled him tighter against you as you leaned into the kiss, your chest pressing flush against his. You could feel the frantic hammering of his heart against your own, a wild, syncopated rhythm. 

A soft, approving moan vibrated against his lips, and you felt him unravel in your hand, his control fraying at the edges. 

“I’m— I’m gonna—” he pleaded, the words a ragged, desperate sob against your mouth. His body went rigid, every muscle straining as he spilled over your fist, his release hot and sudden, painting your fingers and his stomach with stark, white streaks.

You broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down at your hand. “Whoa,” you breathed, a hint of a smirk playing on your swollen lips. “You were supposed to tell me you were close, kay?”

Hyugo could only pant, utterly spent and boneless against the couch, his eyes dazed and helpless.

You held his gaze, your expression turning playful. Slowly, you brought your cum-slicked hand to your lips. Your eyes never leaving his, you ran your tongue along the length of your fingers, cleaning them with a slow, sensual swipe. 

“Next time,” you said, your voice dropping to a husky, promising whisper, “you’ll remember to warn me.”

The cheerful game music was a stark, absurd contrast to the charged silence between you. Hyugo was a statue of pure panic, his brain visibly short-circuiting—

“Hey, I’m back, I got us—” Sol’s voice died in his throat. Sol, frozen in the doorway, takeout bags dangling from his hands, and you, perched perfectly on his bare lap.

Your lounge shirt, which Sol had last seen paired with cozy shorts, now did little to hide the fact that it was the only thing you were wearing. The hem barely brushed the tops of your thighs, giving Sol a perfect, unforgiving view of your plush ass and the slick, puffy lips of your pussy pressed flush against Hyugo’s twitching cock. A clear, glistening streak of your arousal was already smeared across his tense stomach.

Sol’s eyes widened, darting from your face, to your bare legs, to the undeniable, intimate contact between your bodies. The bags hit the floor with a soft thud. “Holy shit.”

Hyugo made a sound like a choked animal. “Sol—!”

You simply sighed, the picture of mild inconvenience. “Ahh, heyy babe.”

“What the— What kind of— What are you two doing?!” Sol’s voice was strained, a desperate hope that this was some elaborate, terrible joke coloring his words.

You shifted slightly, a movement that made Hyugo hiss through his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut. “Well,” you began, your tone utterly matter-of-fact, “I kinda got horny.”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Hyugo blurted out, his voice cracking. His hands flew down in a futile attempt to cover himself, to shield the very evidence that condemned him.

Sol’s expression shattered from shock into pure, unadulterated annoyance. His face flushed a deep red. “Not what it looks like?” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. “Hyugo. It looks exactly like what it looks like. They’re naked on your dick.”

A soft, unbothered laugh escaped you. “He’s got a point, Hyu.”

Sol dragged a hand down his face, letting out a long, exasperated groan. “Oh my god. You actually did it. I leave for twenty minutes and you actually….” He leads off as he took in the scene—you draped over a rigid, crimson Hyugo, the charged air—and a slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Told you,” Sol said, his voice a low rumble aimed directly at Hyugo.

Hyugo’s head snapped up. “Told me what?”

“That she’d break you. When I went out, I knew. I knew exactly what she was planning to do to you the second I left.” Sol dropped the bags by the door, his eyes glinting with amusement. “She’s been plotting.”

Hyugo’s wide, bewildered eyes found yours in the screen’s reflection. “Have you?” he breathed, the question barely audible. “Have you been plotting this from the start?”

A slow smile curled your lips. You leaned in, your breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “Maybe,” you whispered.

Before Hyugo could even process the seismic shift in reality, your hand slid down his stomach, your fingers tracing the hard, tense line of his bare cock. He jolted as if electrocuted, a sharp, choked sound escaping him. “Change of games,” you announced, your voice dropping into a sultry, conspiratorial whisper that was solely for the three of you. You gave Hyugo a gentle, soft squeeze, making his breath hitch. 

“Seems like we already made Hyugo lose once tonight.” You tilted your head, a wicked grin playing on your lips. “He came just from my voice. Sol, you, on the other hand, have been a very good boy. You haven’t come at all yet.”

You looked from Hyugo’s stunned, flushed face to Sol’s.

“So, the new game is simple,” you purred, leaning back slightly but keeping your possessive grip on Hyugo. “The goal is to make me cum. Hard. The first one to completely shatter my composure and make me lose my mind wins.”

Sol’s grin was instantaneous and sharp. “I like this game. But what’s the prize for the winner? Besides the obvious, life-affirming glory of reducing you to a blissed-out puddle, of course.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, feigning deep thought. “Hmm, how about… bragging rights?”

Sol’s face fell into an expression of pure, comical outrage. “Bragging rights?” he spluttered, throwing his hands up. “Are you kidding me? We’re putting our pride, our stamina, our very souls on the line, and the pot is ‘bragging rights’? That’s the most bankrupt, pathetic stake I’ve ever heard!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you shot back, not sorry at all. “Is the chance to witness my earth-shattering orgasm not enough for you? Should I throw in a participation trophy, too?”

Sol’s blush deepened, but he held his ground, grumbling, “Pumpkin It just… lacks grandeur! It needs more… consequence.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across your lips. “Then how about this: the winner gets the memory of my undoing, courtesy of them, to replay in their mind forever. That’s a prize money can’t buy.”

Sol opened his mouth, likely to protest the intangible nature of the prize again, but a voice cut through the tension first.

“That’s not enough.”

Both you and Sol turned to look at Hyugo. He had been quiet, his teal hair shadowing his eyes, but now his gaze was sharp and fixed on you. 

“Hyugo?” Sol asked, sounding almost wary.

Hyugo’s eyes never left yours. “Bragging rights are for children.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, heated whisper that was meant for you alone, yet hung in the air for all to hear. “If we’re doing this, we make it real. We make it tangible.”

You felt a shiver trace its way down your spine, yet still showed a smile. “What did you have in mind?”

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at Hyugo’s lips. “Whoever wins…”

Sol blinked, already wary. “Wait—hold on—”

You cut him off with a calm that only made the moment hotter, more dangerous. “No, let him finish,” you said, eyes gleaming. “I’m curious.”

Hyugo faltered for the first time under your gaze, closing the gap between you all, your voice smooth and unhurried. “Fine. Let’s raise the stakes, then.”

Both pairs of eyes locked on you.

“If either of you wins,” you murmured, dragging your gaze from Hyugo’s mouth to Sol’s unsteady stare, “you’ll get your reward—me, doing whatever you ask.”

Sol’s breath hitched, color rising to his cheeks.

“But…” You tilted your head slightly, the faintest smile touching your lips. “If I win—meaning if you come three times, by my hand—then you’re mine. You’ll serve, obey, and play nice until I decide otherwise.” You leaned closer to Hyugo, your words brushing his ear like silk. “So,” you whispered, voice dropping to something almost tender, almost cruel, “still think you can handle me?”

Hyugo swallowed hard, fraying under your stare. “I—yeah. I can.”

The single word was a spark to tinder. “Bet.”

You then shifted, turning to fully face Sol, “Don’t you think Hyugo’s cock looks so cute like this?” you mused, watching it twitch under your touch. “All desperate and flushed for me.”

A glint of possessive jealousy crossed Sol’s features. He took a half-step forward, but you didn’t let him speak. “Ah-ah,” you chided, pointing a finger at the space on the floor in front of you. “I’m in charge in of the game, so my rules, sit boy.”

Like a well-trained dog, Sol obeyed, a dark heat in his eyes. He shucked off his hoodie and pushed his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion, his own erection springing free.

You positioned yourself on the couch, leaning over Hyugo’s lap. You maintained eye contact with Sol as you took Hyugo’s length in your hand, giving the tip a slow, teasing lick. Your ass was arched high in the air, giving Sol a perfect, unobstructed view of your glistening, wet pussy.

“Come here,” you commanded Sol, your voice husky. You used two fingers to spread yourself open for him. “Play the game; fuck me.”

With a guttural sound, Sol was on his knees behind you. His hands gripped your hips, his large cock nudging at your entrance before he pushed inside in one smooth, deep stroke. The sensation forced a loud, want on moan from your lips, the vibrations traveling straight down Hyugo’s shaft, making his whole body tense.

You took him deeper into your mouth, encouraging him with a muffled, “C’mon, Hyugo. Use me.”

Hesitation warred with raw, desperate need in his teal eyes. 

This was his chance, the line was already crossed. 

With a broken groan, he gave in. His hands tangled in your hair, and he began to move your head, setting a rhythm, gently at first, then with more urgency, fucking your mouth in time with Sol’s thrusts. The sensation of being filled at both ends made you clench tightly around Sol, your moans becoming a continuous, muffled symphony around Hyugo’s cock.

“Easy, Hyugo,” Sol grunted, his own pace becoming frantic, his grip on your ass tightening. “You’ll make them choke.”

But the warning came too late. The overwhelming stimulation was too much. With a final, deep thrust, Sol buried himself inside you, groaning as he spilled his release. At the exact same moment, feeling your throat constrict around him, Hyugo lost his battle for control, his hips bucking as he came down your throat. Panting, spent, Sol and Hyugo collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs.

You were the first to speak, pulling off Hyugo with a wet pop and laughing breathlessly. “Well, look at that. Two Hyu, one Sol.” You glanced over your shoulder at a dazed, panting Sol. “Also, you’re always so rough on me, Sol. At least Hyugo here,” you patted Hyugo’s trembling thigh, “was playing the game right.”

Before Hyugo could even process your compliment, you were moving. 

You rose to your knees and then straddled his lap, sinking down before he could utter a word. You rocked forward, the hot, damp silk of your cunt grinding against the rigid line of his exposed cock, soaking the length with the undeniable evidence of your own arousal.

A choked gasp tore from his throat, his hands flying to your hips to steady himself—or to hold you there. His eyes were wide, glazed with shock and a desperate, rising hunger.

“You said you could handle it,” you purred, rolling your hips in a slow, torturous circle, using his length to stroke your own aching folds. “So handle it.”

But you weren’t finished. 

Because you were playing for a higher score.

Without breaking eye contact with the utterly wrecked Hyugo, your hand snaked out, finding Sol’s wrist where he sat frozen beside you. You guided his hand to the back of your head, a invitation he was too stunned to refuse. As you leaned down, taking Sol’s cock into your mouth with a practiced ease, you increased the pressure on Hyugo, a slick, pulsing, grinding that promised everything and gave nothing.

You kept the rhythm, a cruel and perfect metronome: a grind against Hyugo's throbbing cock, a deep, swallowing pull on Sol's. 

It was simply too much. With a broken shout, Sol came, his release spilling down your throat. You took it all, swallowing before pulling back with a soft, pop. Then, you laughed. It was a bright, playful sound, utterly at odds with the debauched scene.

"Two," you announced, glancing between their wrecked expressions. Your hips were still moving in that slow, infuriating grind against Hyugo's soaked, aching cock. "Two, Sol and Hyu. Funny, isn't it? We've been at this for a while now..." You leaned close to Hyugo's ear again, your voice a taunting sing-song. "...and I still haven't come. Which, by my count, means..."

You let the sentence hang, your meaning crystal clear. 

Sol, still catching his breath, and Hyugo, trembling with unsated need, locked eyes over your shoulder. A dawning, horrified realization passed between them. They were both two orgasms in the hole, completely at your mercy, while you, with a playful glint in your eyes, were still sitting at a perfect, infuriating zero.

You were winning. 

Hyugo’s head fell back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut, his body bowing under the relentless, teasing attention you paid him. "F-Fuck... not again..." he whimpered, his hips stuttering against you as he spent himself for the second time, overwhelmed and trembling.

You clicked your tongue softly, a mock scold as you felt the hot proof of his surrender against your thigh. "So soon, baby boy?" you purred, not letting up. "And here I was just getting started." Your focus was entirely his, your lips tracing a wet path from the hard plane of his chest back to a peaked, pink nipple, your tongue flicking over it just to feel him jolt. 

Your core, still pressed against his oversensitive cock, was a slow, maddening grind. Fuck. You were going to ruin him.

On the floor beside the couch, Sol sat dazed, lazily stroking his own cock as he watched you work. A look of pure, awestruck reverence was on his face. Hyugo noicted, No wonder he listens to you so much, he thought, captivated by the cruel, beautiful precision of your teasing.

He couldn't afford to let you beat him—not at this.

Just as you leaned down to whisper another tormenting promise in Hyugo's ear, the dynamic shattered. In a surge of desperate strength, Hyugo moved. He flipped you with a grunt, pinning your back against the couch cushions, his body caging you in. His eyes, dark and blazing with a newfound resolve, looking to Sol.

"Sol. Hold the wrists."

You blinked, startled. "Huh?"

Without a second of hesitation, Sol was moving, snapping out of his daze. He knelt by your head, his hands—strong and sure—encircling your wrists and pinning them gently but firmly above your head. "Sorry, boss," he murmured, though he didn't sound sorry at all.

Meanwhile, Hyugo slid to his knees on the floor, pushing your legs far apart, his gaze fixed on the heart of you. He dragged two fingers through your slickness, his touch deliberate and knowing. "You said whoever wins has to make you cum hard," he stated, his voice rough but steady. "Why can't both of us compete for it?"

The audacity of it, the sheer, collaborative cheating, caught you so off guard that a burst of laughter escaped you. "By tag-teaming? You cheaters!"

Hyugo’s smirk was a triumphant thing. "Your rules. You never said we couldn't."

Oh, fuck.

The realization dawned as you felt Sol's lips on your neck, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to be a promise, while Hyugo’s head dipped between your thighs, his tongue laving a slow, devastating stripe that made you arch off the couch. 

The game was far from over. 

It had just become a contest to see which of them could break you first.

playingpussyfingershe’llguardyoucan’t

Tje feeling lap of Hyugo’s tongue that made your eyes flutter shut and a soft, breathy sigh escape your lips. "Just like that, Hyu... so good for me," you praised, your head tilting back in surrender. It was that surrender he craved, the proof that he could unravel you. But the victory was gone in an instant.

Sol’s presence enveloped you from side of you, where Hyugo was fervent worship, Sol was possessive claim. His mouth found yours in a deep, distracting kiss, his tongue plunging in a rhythm that mocked Hyugo’s efforts below. He broke the kiss with a smirk, his thumb circling your nipple with a practiced, teasing pressure. 

"Sounds like he's finally found something he's good at, pumpkin,” Sol murmured against your skin, his other hand guiding yours to the hard length of his cock, forcing your fingers to curl around him. "But let's not forget who knows how to really play you."

Ugh. 

Hyugo’s thought was a furious, desperate spike in his mind. Of course Sol knew. He had the map of your body memorized, knew every shortcut to your pleasure. But this couldn’t be how it ended. Not with Sol stealing the climax he was fighting so hard to give you.

He must win.

Hyugo hands tightened on your thighs, anchoring you. He delivered a gentle, punishing bite to your inner folds, before he dove back in with a renewed, frantic purpose. He replaced broad, languid strokes with the pointed, penetrating thrust of his tongue, fucking you with it in a relentless.

The moan was torn from you, breaking free from Sol’s kiss. Your attention, your pleasure, wrenched away from Sol and back to the man between your legs. Your hands fisted in Hyugo's teal hair, not pushing him away, but pulling him closer, your gaze locking with his glinting, triumphant one as he worked you over. 

God, he’s so much better at this than Sol.

Maybe it was because he was a foodie—every lick was a study in savoring. Each suck on your clit was exquisite, building a coil of pleasure so tight you trembled. But then Sol’s fingers found your soaked, puffy cunt, rubbing teasing, maddening circles just beside where Hyugo’s mouth worked so diligently. His bites and kisses along your neck were a counterpoint, a symphony of overstimulation designed to shatter your focus. "Come on, pumpkin," Sol coaxed, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Don't hold back from me.”

Oh, no.

You felt it approaching, Hyugo felt it too—the moment your body began to teeter, the rhythm of your moans shifting, becoming Sol’s as much as his. A fierce frown etched onto his face, his movements never ceasing. No. Sol was not going to take this from him. 

He was not going to be the background noise to your climax.

Hyugo stood up, the movement awkward and jerky, all his usual cool evaporated. He fumbled with cock, and he held it at the base like it was a foreign object he wasn't quite sure how to operate. He looked from the flushed, eager tip to your slick, glistening pussy, your fat folds spread open and waiting. A look of pure, unadulterated panic crossed his face.

You couldn't help it. A low, throaty laugh escaped you, the sound echoing in the living room. Hyugo’s gaze looked over to Sol, who was passed out cold beside you, a blissed-out idiot smile on his face, his own cum still leaking from his cock. "Three strikes, he's out of the game.," you mused, poking Sol's limp arm. It flopped bonelessly. "Three for Sol. Two for you." 

You looked back at Hyugo, your eyes glinting with a challenge that was both a dare and a promise. "Your move." You reached down, using your fingers to spread yourself wider for him, a blatant, unashamed invitation. "Well? You talked a big game." You smirked, the taunt clear in your voice. 

“Insert me.”

Hyugo's breath hitched, his control visibly fraying. He inched the tip forward, the broad head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance, a teasing promise of what was to come.

"You know," you said, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was a direct callback to the very one that had undone him, "for a guy who was ready to spontaneously combust over a voice call, you're looking a little... hesitant. Don't tell me the great Hyuhyu is all talk?"

That was the final straw. 

A low, guttural sound ripped from his throat—part growl, part triumphant laugh. "You just had to ping me, didn't you?" he snarled, his voice dripping with a newfound, playfulness.

In one brutal, perfect thrust, he rammed his entire length into you, sheathing himself to the hilt. The air was punched from your lungs in a shared, sharp cry. For a single, suspended moment, he was still, his eyes wide and stunned, locked with yours as he processed the overwhelming, silken heat clenched tight around him. His hands, which had been trembling, now clamped onto your thighs.

"Fuck," he breathed, a cocky grin twisting his lips as he began to move, setting a punishing, pulsingpace. "Look at that. Latency is zero. Perfect sync." He leaned his head back, a vein throbbing in his temple as he fought for control, his hips driving into you with relentless precision. 

His earlier vulnerability was gone, burned away by a predatory focus. Each rough, thrust of his hips drove you further into the cushions, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the couch fabric behind you.

“You feel that?” His voice was a low, rough grunt in your ear, his breath hot against your damp skin. “That’s a direct input.”

The words were so absurdly… ugh, so him, that a look of cringe warred with the overwhelming pleasure. But you didn't have time to think. Another deep, punishing stroke hit exactly the right spot, and your thought process shattered into a static whine. Your back arched, a broken moan torn from your throat.

He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. His hands tightened on your hips, holding you in place as he set a ruthless, perfect rhythm. "You're taking the combo so well," he growled, his own breathing ragged.

Before you could even form a coherent protest against the metaphor, he shifted his angle, lifting your leg, plunging deeper, “Hyu!” You moaned out.

The sensation was so intense it felt like a system shock, short-circuiting your nerves.

"But let's see if I can make you drop your frame rate." His pace became erratic, brutally fast, then agonizingly slow, denying you any chance to find your footing. 

"Let's see you cum ONLY for me."

Hyugo’s eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifying, focused intensity. A low, guttural sound tore from his throat, half-moan, half-growl of pure conquest. “And I bet on it, I will win,” he vowed, the words a hot, ragged promise against your lips. His hands, which had been trembling just moments before, were suddenly sure and demanding. 

One slid from your face, splaying possessively across your stomach, while the other wrapped tightly around your thigh, yanking you flush against him. His forehead pressed against yours, forcing direct, unbroken eye contact. In the periphery, Sol’s passed out form was a forgotten in this brutal game. 

Hyugo didn't give a single fuck.

So what you ‘belong’ to Sol, so what you and him are together. He’ll take this chance and ruin the living shit of of you, just to beat this game.

His mouth crashed back onto yours, all tongue and teeth and desperate, hungry noise. This wasn't some sweet, romantic shit; this was him taking what he’d been fantasizing about for months. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, fisting in your hair to yank your head back and claim your throat.

"Fuck," he growled against your skin, his voice ragged. "You feel that? This is what you did to me. All those nights listening to you. This is what you fucking asked for."

He drove into you, each thrust a punctuation to his words, the couch creaking under the force; definitely not friendly competition for a game. “Hyu! Holy shit…”

 It was just raw, sweaty, and so damn good. 

His mouth crashing onto yours, all the pent-up frustration and jealousy of months erupting into a feverish, clumsy clash of teeth and tongue. His hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt to feel the frantic beat of your heart against his palm.

When he finally pushed inside you, it was with a guttural groan that was pure relief. He wasn't as generously large as Sol, but what he lacked in size, he made up for in a desperate, focused intensity. He angled his hips, chasing a spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

"Fuck!" you cried out, your back arching off the couch.

"See?" he panted against your neck, his voice thick with triumph and strain. 

He was staring right down at you, his eyes dark and blown out, watching every single one of your expressions shatter. "Gonna cum for me, you fucking tease?" he panted, his rhythm turning brutal, perfect. "Gonna let me feel it? Or do I have to fuck it out of you?" He was trying to break you, to make you lose that cool composure that always drove him insane. 

His movements was relentless, the sound of slick skin and his balls hitting your ass a lewd, counterpoint to your moans. Determined to make you break first, he shifted, one hand wrapping around your throat—not to hurt, but to claim, to dominate. The pressure was just enough to make your head spin, your vision spotting as you looked up at him, your expression utterly vulnerable.

You were wound so tight you could shatter, a live wire of pure need, and you knew only he could break you. “Hyu… please…” you begged, your voice a ragged, broken thing. “I’m so close… don’t you dare stop.”

His answer was a guttural groan against your sweat-slicked neck, his pace turning punishing, relentless. You could feel the coil of your own orgasm tightening deep in your belly, a storm about to break.

“That’s it,” you panted, your nails scoring down his back, claiming him. “Just like that… fuck, your cock is the only thing that makes me feel this full. I’m gonna come all over it. I’m gonna come for it.”

The confession shattered his control. A raw, animal sound tore from his throat. He drove into you, deeper, harder, as if he could fuse you together.

“Yes! More,” you cried out, your body arching off the bed, every muscle taut. “Be rougher, Hyu, I don’t care—just make me cum! I want to scream your name when I do. I want to drench your fucking cock.”

You felt him swell inside you, the telltale sign of his own climax approaching. Panic and desire lanced through you. “No, wait—Hyugo,” you gasped, your eyes flying open to lock with his fever-bright gaze. “Don’t pull out. Please… I need to feel it. I need to feel you come inside me. Fill me up. Please.” Your words, that raw, desperate plea, snapped the last thread of his restraint. 

With a broken shout of your name, his hips slammed home and stayed there, buried to the hilt. You felt the hot, pulsing rush of his release deep within you, a flood of heat that triggered your own shattering climax.

Your vision whited out. A silent scream was torn from you as you convulsed around him, your inner walls milking his cock in a relentless, pulsingwave, drawing out every last drop of his seed. He collapsed against you, his body heavy and shuddering, his face buried in your neck as you both fought for air, joined completely in the aftershocks. The only sound was your ragged breathing and the wet, intimate sound of his spent cock still nestled deep inside you.

He had just enough strength to roll you both over, collapsing onto Sol’s and snapping the other man out of his stunned silence. You lay dazed and boneless on Hyugo’s chest, feeling the evidence of his victory begin to leak from you.

Sol stared, his jaw slack. "Did... did he win?"

You didn't even open your eyes. “Yeah,” you murmured, a blissed-out smile on your face. "Hyugo won."

"I can't believe it," Sol muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But his prize doesn't mean he gets to keep you all to himself."

Your eyes fluttered open. "Who says you have to be separate?" you mused, your voice lazy. "Maybe the prize is... sharing."

Before Sol could process the invitation, Hyugo’s arms tightened around you possessively. "I won," he growled, his cock already stirring again inside you. "I get to do whatever I want. And I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh, hell no," Sol said, his own arousal now obvious.

As they began to argue over you, you let out a sigh that was more contentment than annoyance. You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, catching their attention. Slowly, you spread your legs, letting them both see the undeniable, overflowing proof of your shared passion.

"You're both so loud," you chided softly, your gaze flicking between their flushed faces. "I'm still not satisifed. So, are you going to keep yelling, or are you going to do something about it?"

They fell silent, two rival now utterly tamed by the same desire. And as they looked from your sated, demanding expression to each other, a new, unspoken understanding passed between them.

You smiled. 

You had gotten exactly what you wanted.

And you were, God, you were.

Your nails dug into Hyugo’s back, your legs locking around him to pull him deeper as Sol’s hands began to wander your body. Your breath came in sobbing gasps that were their names, a tangled, desperate prayer. And Sol, watching Hyugo move within you, his own length hard and aching, could only think one thing.

Insert You.

♤ — 𝓉𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒷 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

iyayadonna, all rights reserved. — ⋆˚ ᓭི༏ᓯྀ ꩜ 。⋆ .ᐟ