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#I’m still in denial tho
hotshitno2 · 7 months
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For those saying this chapter doesn’t rly move the plot forward, little reminder that Ruby’s the crow girl have canonically met before!!!! I’m interested af to see her reaction to her if she remembers, and if she doesn’t either way it gives interesting points to the extent of her power so overall LETSGOOO
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birdy-bird27 · 29 days
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hey!! do you have any skills aspec headcanons? :3
Heyy!! This is a great question I had to think about it, I just sorta had to go with my aroace gut was telling me. To me empathy gives me ace vibes but a hopeless romantic type(all the Psche group gives me slight ace vibes ngl). Also claiming vis calc as my aroace king, no reason other than he’s underrated and I like him :)
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cinnamon-guardian · 2 years
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Next time I see Loid “For The Mission” Forger act like Yor and Anya aren’t his real family I will throw hands I swear to God—
youtube
This man has the gall to say that like 90% of this new OP isn’t taken straight from his point of view. He really sees Yor and Anya like this and still goes “Yep. Totally for the mission, guys.”
I love Loid, but the next time he says it, I’m going to literally crawl into the show and slap the shit out of him. Get it together, Loid!!
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I fear the only thing that can wake meme up is an 8-1 vote against Felicia at this point…
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stardustshimmer · 8 months
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i am today years old when i found out the entire "Marx was just hungry so he took over popstar" idea was just a mistranslation, how about you?
M-MISTRANSLATION!?!?!?
Oh nah… *wipes sweat from forehead and sits down, shaking*
I… I don’t know what to say… I…
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funeralgreys · 1 year
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does anyone else still have really complex feelings about atl
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gourdgon · 11 months
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I don’t Like How muppets mayhem took some of the already established canon and threw it in the garbage but also I like some of the new canon so I’m just gonna do that thing that people did with religion and try to incorporate every canon at once surely it will not overlap and it will be so clear what happened < - causing horrors to happen
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doodlebeeberry · 2 years
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bee , could you talk about your stella / hansen family in general head canons... i saw it in your tags once on ao3 and now im curious
It’s like 3 am so apologies if this isn’t coherent or is just a scattered mess. Also most of these are not very happy sorry
- Stella n Bryce’s relationship with their mom was. Rocky for a long while. She was kinda one of those folks who just wasn’t really cut out to be a parent. She didn’t dislike em, not by a long shot, but it took her a long time to deal w her issues enough to really be a proper parent to them, in a meaningful way.
- the three of them did eventually reach an ok place though. There was still a definitive distance, but when bryce was like a sophomore in high school or so they started reconciling a bit
- I maintain my old headcannons that the extended hansen family is Big. He has like a billion cousins but he hasn’t seen the majority of them in years. I do think he tries to reconnect with some of them at least like wayyy after one is over tho.
- bradley is like. A family friend on stellas side. She was closest with him but eventually he grew into almost a second sibling to bryce after a while
- they lived in the suburbs outside hartford. Can’t be bothered to look up where specifically so just pick the absolute most middle ground neighborhood possible
- stella absolutely taught him how to drive and she did so approximately fifteen minutes before his drivers test
- at some point bryce became the one in the house who cooked, mostly cause he was the only one who was particularly good at it. For a brief period of time, probably when he was like a senior, the three of them would sorta bond over it as he tried to teach stella n his mom how to not suck at it.
- at one point in that process, not long before stella died, his mom gave him a couple of old family recipes, scribbled on napkins and receipt backs and the like. This was the most solid ground they’d ever had up to that point. He still has them. He refuses to make any of them.
- stella died like three days after he graduated high school, give or take. If I wanna get really specific, and also kinda mean, she died durning a graduation party someone was throwing for him and a couple other kids on the block who’d also graduated. Total freak accident
- To say it put a damper on his relationship with his mom is putting it mildly. About a week after stellas death, Bryce and his mom has a really really nasty fight, both about her death and just about eachother. Lot of poorly-aired grievances and not-so-nice things were said, resulting in both bryce storming out of his own volition and his mom in effect kicking him out. He went south to crash with Bradley for a while, who was (and still is) living around bridgeport. He and his mom haven’t spoken since.
- he was thinking of going to community college. That didn’t happen.
- probably should’ve mentioned this up too but there’s no dad in the picture really. He vanished for one reason or another before bryce was even born rip
- his mom. Is aware of what happen on the smokestack. And she feels. Some sorta way about it I’m sure.
#these are most of the ones that are relevant to losing and finding I think? which is the only fic where I mentioned having hcs about this#I think#skimmed over stellas exact cause of death but it was a car accident. as is the popular interpretation#some guy was going a bit too fast and had to swerve not to hit a critter or somethin. lost control and there you go#maybe it’s just because of how I tend to approach bryces family dynamic but I don’t think his mom was like. an intentionally shitty person#when he was growing up. in the sense that like. she did care about them both genuinely but she wasn’t a caretaker by nature and wasn’t good#with her own limits.#combined with very suddenly becoming a single mother and falling back on a few old vices and things went a bit topsy turvey#I don’t know if that’s how you write out that expression but still#it took time for her to learn how to really. be there. how to be a proper parent to them. and when she did she never really owned up to the#mess so much as she just tried to build over it. she kinda denied it for a while (which is at least in part where bryce gets his denialism#from)#and while eventually she got a bit better at owning up to being a bad parent and such it was never really enough. it was never gonna be#enough#I don’t know if any of that made sense. I’m very sleepy and in my head their relationship is Very Complicated#to say nothing of his moms relationship with stella oh man#we know this woman Exists and that’s it but I’ll be dammed if I don’t hammer together some sorta messy character out of her#I have hyper-specific family headcannons for the whole scentdapack trio#and also charlotte n taylor tho I’d have to think about those a bit more lmao#ask#ask to tag
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gothedrals · 2 years
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been missing freddie mercury a lot lately
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nuoc7mia · 2 years
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soonkki, you know what you did with the end of ch 67 ಠ_ಠ don’t encourage my delusional, over-analytical brain like this
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forestofmemories · 7 months
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taking my time rewatching jn bc once i finish that (plus mezapoke) there’ll be nothing left for me to watch, pokeani-wise……. UNLESS
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Hi! My coping mechanisms are Denial and Misdirection, nice ta’ meet’cha’! 🥰
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valenines · 1 year
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THEY KEPT THE BINGO LINE!!!
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moonlinos · 2 months
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Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)
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♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader
♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)
♡ Word count: 15.7k
♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.
♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷
← part I
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Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.
Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.
The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.
Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.
You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.
“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”
“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.
Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.
“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.
Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.
He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”
“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.
Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.
Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”
“And are you going to the club tonight?”
“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”
That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.
Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.
Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.
He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.
Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.
Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.
But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.
It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.
A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.
You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.
“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”
And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.
Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”
“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”
You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.
“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”
He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”
You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.
“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.
“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”
By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.
“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.
He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.
“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.
You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.
But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.
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Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.
Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.
He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:
“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”
And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them). 
His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.
“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”
By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.
Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.
At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.
So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.
That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.
His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.
Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.
They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.
They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.
He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.
It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.
He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.
After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.
Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.
That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.
After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.
He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.
He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.
Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.
He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.
“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?
He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.
“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”
And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.
Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.
“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”
The man snickers. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.
You use it with him almost every night.
Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”
And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.
His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.
Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.
Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.
The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.
He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.
When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.
He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.
For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.
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Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.
After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.
Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.
“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.
“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”
Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”
You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.
Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.
“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.
Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.
“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”
“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”
You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”
Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.
So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.
“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”
Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.
You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.
“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.
You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.
“Don’t think so.”
“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”
And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.
“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.
Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.
You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.
“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”
Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”
You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.
“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”
You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.
With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips. 
Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.
“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”
He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.
“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.
Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.
Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.
You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.
Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.
“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”
He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.
“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly. 
Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.
He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.
But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.
His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.
“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.
With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.
He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.
“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.
You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.
He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.
You still think you’re in control.
Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.
His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.
“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.
“Does it feel good, baby?”
You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.
He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.
Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.
With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.
“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”
His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.
Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.
“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”
But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.
Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.
He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.
“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.
“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”
Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.
“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.
As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.
He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.
“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.
And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”
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You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.
Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.
But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.
Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.
You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.
But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.
What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.
He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.
“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.
“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.
Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”
“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”
“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”
And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.
At least by Hyunjin.
You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.
You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.
Clearly, you were mistaken.
You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.
Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.
And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.
But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.
After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.
“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.
That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.
You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.
Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:
The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.
You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.
Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.
They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.
On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.
A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace. 
Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.
You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.
Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.
Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.
You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.
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You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.
You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.
The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.
The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.
You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.
As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.
Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.
Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.
You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.
“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”
The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.
The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.
You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.
Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.
The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’
Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.
Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.
You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.
Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.
His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.
“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”
Your brows knit together. “What?”
“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”
You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.
Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.
He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.
Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.
Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.
At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.
As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.
Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.
Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.
You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.
You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.
“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.
You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.
But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.
“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”
To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.
“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”
Of course.
You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.
“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”
A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”
As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.
“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.
“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.
You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.
Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.
The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.
You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.
“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”
You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.
Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.
Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.
“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.
But you don’t want to do that.
Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.
So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.
His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.
It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.
It’s not Hyunjin.
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Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.
Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.
Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.
During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.
He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.
She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.
Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.
He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.
When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.
Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.
It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.
Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.
Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.
He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.
That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.
It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.
You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.
You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.
Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.
But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.
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You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.
After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.
But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.
Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.
You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.
“I’m sorry,” you simply say.
Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”
“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.
“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”
You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.
“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.
Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”
The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.
“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”
“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”
You open your lips, but no words come out.
You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.
Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.
The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.
“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.
As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.
“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”
He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”
You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.
“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”
Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.
“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.
You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.
“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”
Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.
Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.
Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.
It sends your entire body ablaze.
He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.
“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”
But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”
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In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.
You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.
Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.
This time was different.
You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.
As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.
It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.
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Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.
He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.
So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.
Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.
During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.
That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.
Another brick down.
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You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.
Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.
Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.
He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”
You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.
“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”
He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.
Another brick down.
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In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.
You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.
Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.
At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.
You found you loved both sides of him equally.
Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.
But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.
Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.
You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.
As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.
You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.
“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”
He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.
“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”
“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”
As much as you were desperate for it.
He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”
“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”
It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.
Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.
His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.
Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.
“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”
“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”
“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.
He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.
His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.
Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.
“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.
You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.
Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.
“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.
“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.
There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.
But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.
He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.
The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.
“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”
He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.
“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.
He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.
“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”
He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.
“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”
You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”
Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.
“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”
You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.
He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.
“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.
Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.
Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.
That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.
It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.
Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.
Because you knew him.
And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.
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pedgito · 2 years
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Okay here me out!! Eddie and bestfriend reader are hanging out just chilling in his room like any other day but our back is killing us so he's on top of us giving our back a massage. Our shirt rides up so now he's massaging bare skin and listening to our goans of satisfaction. He obviously pops a boner and you know one thing leads to the other very nsfw in the same position tho us on our tummy him on top SOUNDS LIKE FUN!!!
author’s note: this is uh…yeah. just purely self indulgent smut so pls enjoy my nsfw ramblings mwah. if there's typos in this, no there's not. it's 11pm and i'm exhausted.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), fem!reader, mentions of smoking and being high, steamy sex, they’re both two consenting adults don’t worry, sex from behind, dirty talk, slight hair pulling, fingering, ect. let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 2.5k
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It doesn’t take any persuading to get Eddie in the position he is now, knees settled on either side of you, sat perfectly against your thighs, hands resting in the dip just above your ass, the tiniest shorts in existence doing nothing to block the heat of Eddie’s hands as his fingers dug into the skin. If Wayne were to chance walking in, you both wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Eddie’s heavy above you, no other option to lay there and enjoy the magic that were his fingers; knowing his way around a guitar and a few taut muscles. It almost hurts, the way his fingers dig into the skin—but the relief, the literal unwinding of your tense back muscles has you moaning out against your pillow, where your head rested.
Eddie snorts in laughter, “Like that?” He teases, voice flirtatious out of habit. It wasn’t strange for him to act this way, it came with the package of knowing Eddie; he was so naturally charming that he couldn’t help it. You feel your heart flutter at the words, smiling into your forearm.
“Mhm,” You hum, nodding your head gently. He watches the back of your head bob, spreading the length of his hands over the sides of your waist, digging into the flesh there, leaning forward slightly to apply pressure, absently rubbing the front of his jeans against the curve of your ass.
He doesn’t say anything, almost like he can’t be bothered to notice. The assault of his hands continue, too fucking satisfying to ask him to stop now; you wouldn’t even if you needed to. He was a fucking smoke show, despite his constant denial, you knew exactly what Eddie was all about.
Selfless but selfish, indulging in the things he cared about but always worrying about the feelings of others. So undoubtedly considerate in his relationship with others, he was the kind of person you could rely on, love, see yourself spending the rest of your life with—romantically or platonically. It didn’t matter to you.
But with his hands on you now, one blunt into the night, that haze in your brain was pointing all signs of ‘god, i’m so fucking horny right now’ and you’ll be damned if you have to starve yourself of that feeling. Eddie feels it too, with how eagerly he jumped at the chance to touch your bare skin, dig his fingers into the soft, meaty flesh—that, and it gave the perfect view of your ass.
And you’re not sure when his hands stop, the only real contact he was making was the shallow thrust of his hips against your backside, far enough away that it wasn’t at all satisfying. It was torture.
He’s lost his train of thought, eyes nearly shut as his hands linger but never move, he doesn’t even feel in control of his own body.
“Eddie,” You speak softly, head turned back to look at him, though the angle was strained. He gives a small ‘huh’, eyes half lidded as he finally makes eye contact with you, “still with me?”
“Sorry,” He says, clearing his throat of the muck the smoke had left behind, his high peaking at this point, having been a while since you’d both finished off the joint, “you know how it gets when we smoke, sometimes.”
You know all too well; the exploring hands, kisses stolen in-between shared thoughts and words, the way Eddie would beg and beg to have his head between your thighs, just to get a small taste of you—the mix of weed and whatever ecstasy Eddie was trying to taste as he devour your cunt, greedily licking up every last drop of you.
You two never talked about it. It just was.
He enjoyed the way you’d take him in his mouth, almost lazily, still showing just how good it could feel outside the boundaries of his own hands, letting him fuck into your mouth earnestly.
It never got the point of fucking, though, ever.
It was the one boundary you both knew came with consequences, small or large, that needed to be talked about. But right now, you couldn’t be bothered to care, seeing the desperate expression on his face.
He’s never wanted to fuck someone so badly.
“I’m so fucking hard right now,” Eddie says honestly, chancing a glance down at the zipper of his jeans, his dick straining uncomfortably against the constricting material, “don’t mean to be, sweetheart.”
“What do you want, Eddie?” You ask gently, voice soft as his hands rise higher, almost touching the underside of your breasts where they’re pressed against the mattress.
“You.” He sighs openly, leaning his body over the expanse of yours, covering your back like a blanket. He’s so drunk off his own desperate need to for release that he’s grinding against your ass, harsher this time. The thick material of his jeans is uncomfortable against the silk of your shorts and if he really wanted to do this, he was going to do it correctly, that way it was enjoyable for both of you.
“Take your pants off.” You urge—and you can’t believe the speed at which he races to discard of the unnecessary clothing. You make an attempt to turn, but you’re stopped by the touch of his palm, pressed against the middle of your back.
“No, like this,” He insists, adjusting your ass until it’s positioned where he likes, cover bunched up underneath you for support. Despite his hazy brain, he still had the sense to be sweet, “you look so pretty like this.”
And he’s speaking nonsense, you think.
“Such a cute little ass.” He smiles satedly, hands gripping at the flesh gently, the front of his boxers pressing against you, the hard line of his dick was a shock to your system, despite being ready for it.
And you want to tilt your hips, assist in the grind of his dick against the clothed curve of your ass, help him reach whatever release he was after.
Sometimes he wanted quick and fast; the senseless type of orgasm that left you both gasping for breath after. Other times it was slow, moaning into each other’s mouths as you found that ecstasy together.
He grunts softly, almost frustrated. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” You ask, your hand gliding against the outside of his palm where it had a steady grip on your hip.
“Not enough,” He pouts dismally, movements stopping slightly, “God, I just wanna—“ He takes a deep breath through his nose, eyes falling closed as he thinks on his next words, “I really wanna fuck you, sweetheart.”
And the words are like a weight lifted off your shoulders, like hearing him say it made the decision so much easier; not afraid to cross that boundary anymore. You wanted it just as much as he did.
“Okay,” You nod slowly, turned slightly to look back at him, and he looks so fucking sweet, the way his eyes soften at the sight of you, “yeah, if you really want to.”
Eddie doesn’t waste much time, pulling at the thin material of your shorts and panties in one go, lingering on the sight of your bare ass, “Even better like this.” He says, admiring the way your neck blushed at the comment.
“Condom, Eddie.” You remind him, high but not high enough to remember that you definitely did not need the aspect of any unnecessary and unwanted surprises showing up in your life. He fetches the small foil wrapper from his bedside table, you try to ignore the jumbo size box stuffed in there.
That was a question for another time.
Eddie doesn’t spend time trying to strip any further, leaving you naked from the waist down, and pulling his boxers down just enough so they’re tucked under his balls, enough room to allow him to get where he needed.
He’s eager with how quickly his fingers slip through your folds, gathering up the embarrassing amount of slick against his fingers, making a small noise of acknowledgment before saying, “Always so fucking wet, aren’t you?”
Normally, you could keep it together, comeback something with a bit more snark, but you could only offer a small ‘uh huh’, letting one of his thick digits sink inside of you, so deprived of anything inside you for the past few months that your pussy squeezes around his finger greedily.
He sets a gentle pace, curling his finger as he went, a consistent pump in and out of you, before he’s slipping in another finger—it’s a beautiful stretch, causing you to gasp out, keening back against his hand. “Fuck, those fingers—“
“Made for you,” He comments absently, fingers working you open so easily, like this was normal for the both of you; and while some of it was, this was still all so new, “always so greedy, yeah?”
And you’re not sure if he’s talking to you directly, but you answer a weak ‘yes’ anyways.
He works you over until you’re panting, begging for him to put you out of your misery, feeling deplorable with how much he enjoyed teasing you.
“Just fuck me already, please.” You snark impatiently, throwing the wrapper back at him.
He quickly rips it open with his teeth, removing and rolling the thin latex over himself, adjusting most of his weight on one arm as he uses the tip of his cock to glide through your folds, not wasting any time as he slides in, almost buried to the hilt.
If you weren’t so blasted out of your mind, you would’ve fought him over it, but you could sense how eager he was to be buried inside of you.
He groans loudly, the grasp on your hips tighter than before, nearly bruising. He rocks his hips testingly, listening closely to the small gasps that escape your lips, almost too quiet—he can’t have that, he wants to hear you fall apart so badly.
“Never thought it would be this good, sweetheart.” He says honestly, the slow and steady rock of his hips leaving you grasping at the downy comforter, face shoved into the blanket to stifle your moans. “I mean, that pussy’s always been sweet—but it just takes me so well.”
“Yeah?” You answer pathetically, a small hiccup as he thrusts into you particularly rough.
“Wish you could see it,” He says, watching the way your cunt swallows him up, so mesmerized by what the fuck was happening that he has to take a moment, eyes rolling back into his head as he sits with the feeling, your soft moans like music to his ears, “taking me so well, baby.”
And that really shouldn’t affect you the way it does, but your pussy clenches around him at the endearment, causing Eddie to curse out, delivering another rough thrust into you.
“So good,” He murmurs, body now leaned over you almost completely, fucking into you with earnest, the slide of his body against yours, warm and sticky skin against yours—it was overwhelming in all the best ways.
You reach behind you, desperate to hold onto a piece of him; anything. Your hand finds his hair, grabbing loosely on a handful of strands, his mouth ghosting over the back of your neck as he groans, his hands digging into the pillow on either side of your head.
You never had any exceptions on what it would be like to be fucked by Eddie, sober or not—but it’s indescribable, so many emotions hitting you all at once, and you want to cry from the absolute sheer amount of pleasure you’re body was taking, but also because Eddie was so fucking soft, while still managing that primal need he had.
“Always dreamt of fucking you.” He says without thinking.
And maybe that could ruin your friendship. But, maybe it wouldn’t. You answer with a pathetic moan, another broken sob. “Yeah?” You force out, “Just like this?”
“Every way,” He admits, hand sneaking around to your front, over the sensitive bud of your clit. It’s the first time he’s showed it any attention all night, but you can’t find it in you to complain, gasping at the quick, tight circles he makes, “any way.”
“I’m close, Eddie—“ You warn, hips bucking desperately against his hand as he continues to fuck into you, hips quick and sloppy, on the precipice of his own orgasm.
“Yeah? Gonna come with me, sweetheart?” It isn’t meant to sound like a challenge, but you take it that way, nodding quickly.
His thrusts are wild, pounding into you so relentlessly that you don’t even have time to catch your breath, the two fingers pressed against your clit, quick and precise motions—that’s what sends you over the edge.
“Fuck,” Eddie swears, the last clench of your walls against his cock was all he needed, spilling into the condom, still buried inside you. He holds you close, letting you ride the wave of your own orgasm, nearly in tears by how hard it hits you.
“I’m okay.” You let him know, once you’ve sufficiently recovered, groaning in protest at the feeling of him slipping out of you, discarded the condom in the trash at the corner of his room.
You reach for you shorts, ready to hightail it out of there and get home, much like you usually did after these situations. But, Eddie wasn’t going to let that happen. Not this time.
He shakes his head, making a soft noise as he grabs into your wrist, motioning for you to lay back down, finding your way into the nook of his arm, settled closely against his clothed chest.
“You’re not getting away that quickly,” He complains, kicking his blanket up until it’s covering you both, “I still want to hang out.”
It sounds ridiculous in retrospect, the concept of hanging out now completely out the window, at least it seemed that way. But again, Eddie didn’t care—carrying on with conversation like normal, like he hadn’t just fully wrecked every thought process you’d had, body so fucked out that all you could was lay there, pliant to him.
“We gotta smoke like that more often.” You joke, giggling softly, eyes glancing up to stare into his own deep, brown ones.
“Sweetheart, I can fuck you like that whenever you want—I don’t need to be high.” He points out and you could almost kiss him. Almost.
“We’ll see about.” You reply back coyly, fingers dancing up the side expanse of his chest, thumb catching at the bottom of his lip, which he bites teasingly.
It only takes about a half hour before Eddie has you spread out over his lap, fucking up into you lazily.
“I gotta ask,” You say, breaking the blanket of silence, “Why do you have so many condoms?”
Not to say that Eddie wasn’t pulling—he had to be, but it seemed like overkill.
“Wayne really hates the idea of kids. He just wants me to be safe.”
You snort, and somehow that still doesn’t kill the mood, only sending you into a short fit of laughter. Eddie quickly fucks it out of you though, sending you down the path of your second orgasm that night.
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lainsshop · 3 months
Text
A Lovely Night ౨ৎ
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Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: fluff(?), crack(?), developing relationship, dancing, singing, lalaland n probably more..
Song: A Lovely Night - La La Land
A/N: Sorry if it’s so bad even tho I just copied everything from the scene but please give feedback if it’s bad..
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You n Alastor were walking around the empty streets of the Cannibal Colony.
He insisted that he wanted to spend the night together in a lil cafe to just “catch up” even tho you guys always see each other in the hotel, Hazbin Hotel.
It wasn’t unusual for you two to spend nights like this, you used to hang out before he disappeared for 7 whole years.. he still won’t tell you why cause nobody needs to know.. which it did kinda annoyed you but that’s how Alastor was and still is.
Even if it did annoyed you and his whole person itself, you still had developed a tiny crush on him, in your words anyways. You clearly had a crisis cause you’ve never had crushes so it was a new feeling for you.. you wanted to throw up and keep being in denial but sooner or later you will accept it so there was no point in hiding it.
Alastor knew you so clear as a book so he obviously knew about ur lil crush on him but he didn’t said anything cause he enjoyed your reaction to almost everything, it was entertaining after all. So he waited for you to just burst out but not without his “help”.
As you continue to walk, you suddenly tripped a bit. “Shit..” You said under your breathe. You don’t know why in hell did you wanted to wear heels today but here you are! Being an idiot..
“Those look uncomfortable.” Alastor said as his smile grew a bit wider. “They aren’t..” You responded, clearly a bit annoyed.
You two didn’t said anything further on until Alastor spoke up. “Thank you for this wonderful night, my dear, reminds me of the old times.” He said. “You didn’t give me much of a choice anyways.” You replied, Alastor just chuckled at that. “Oh but I know you enjoyed it either way.” “… whatever.” You said.
You continued to walk up a hill and stumble across the city skyline. A ribbon of lights, stretching as far as you can see. It’s the most romantic sight in hell that you’ve seen since who knows how long it as been. You looked at each other. A beat. And then..
You shrug. As you continue to walk a bit. “I’ve seen better.” You commented. “I have to agree with that.” Alastor responded as he walked to the pole and started to sing..
“The sun is nearly gone.. n the lights are turning on, a silver shine that stretches to the sea.” You knew Alastor could sing and all but you honestly didn’t expect that right now. He was many things that you couldn’t quite puzzle out. “We’ve stumbled on a view, that’s a tailor-made for two.. what a shame those two are you n me.” He said he walked towards you. You wanted to looked annoyed but the way he’s singing makes you wanna.. but you just rolled your eyes and walk towards somewhere else trying to ignore him. “Some other girl and guy, would love this swirling sky..” He said walking next to you. “But there’s only you and I, and we’ve got no shot,” You wanted to laugh at that but- “This could never be, you’re not the type for me.” He says as he’s smile grew a bit.
Oh, he was teasing you at this point. “Really?” You saiid unamused. “And there’s not a spark in sight, what a waste of a lovely night..” He sings before walking away.
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at him before clearing your throat. “You said there’s nothing here, well, let’s make something clear, I think I’ll be the one to make that call.” You sing along. “Not quite sure about that, darling.” He commented as he looked at you. “And though you looked so cute in your silky lil suit..”
“It’s polyester.”
“You’re right, I’d never fall for you at all..” You lied. “And maybe this appeals to someone not in heels.” You said as you walk to the bench. “Or any girl who feels, there’s some chance in romance but, I’m frankly feeling nothing..” You sing as Alastor looks at you still smiling as he raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” “Or it could be less than nothing.” “Good to know, so you agree?” “That’s right..”
“What a waste of a lovely night.” You both sang along.
Alastor sits next to you in the bench. You cross your leg as you take one of your heels and put on some more comfortable shoes. Alastor looked at his shoes and started to “accidentally” move dirt towards you, just to annoy you. You paused and give him a glare and lightly hit him in the chest and continue to put remove your other heel.
He started to mock you as he cross his leg too. As you finish with changing shoes, you two put your feet down and you looked at him suspiciously, and started to move in sync. Alastor turned to look at the view and looked at you, he tried to poke you but you stopped him.
As you two slide from to the other side of the bench, he grabbed your bag and tried to open it but you snatched it from him. He suddenly jumps onto the bench and starts dancing and gets off. You two suddenly started to move in sync and jump onto the bench once again looking at the view and then each other and jumped off the bench and started to really dance.
As you two stopped dancing, yall got closer and closer.. on that moment you just wanted to confess to him and everything. Oh, he was very much waiting for that. You slightly opened your mouth to speak and then-
Your cellphone ring started to go off, it was Charlie.
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