All Matter is Speed and Flame
I hate the new apartment. I am miserable. I have no internet. I went to the library to do school work and when I came back I found a single bar of wireless connection lingering pathetically in a corner of my bedroom. I spent the rest of the evening crammed into that corner yanking this fic out of my ass. RIGHT AFTER OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCING A HIATUS THAT BEGAN MORE THAN A MONTH AGO :| I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO ASK WHY I'M LIKE THIS. Apologies for the spam, just posting this here for thundersquall.
/slinks off dejectedly
Title: Strawberry Tart
Fandom: Super Junior
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Yewook
Summary: Genderswitch!crack
A/N: I'm not even going to bother trying to justify this.
Yesung isn't particularly bothered by waking up to Ryeowook's suddenly developed chest pressed against him, isn't even all that surprised really. He rolls over to face Ryeowook, shaking her gently, "Ryeowook. Ryeowook, wake up."
A delicate hand reaches out and swats at the side of his face as Ryeowook sighs in her sleep, cuddling closer, knee sliding between Yesung's thighs. It's then that it occurs to him. He picks up her hand, carefully unfolding sleep-lax fingers as he holds it up to his own hand for just a moment before hissing, "Are you kidding me, fucking-"
"Hyung?" Ryeowook blinks blearily at him, long lashes fluttering, "What are you doing?"
Yesung quickly drops her hand, eyes wide, "Uh. You've got tits."
Ryeowook looks down and sure enough, there they are. She hums in quiet consideration before settling down into her pillow with a slight yawn, "Remind me in a few hours, I'll need to go shopping."
Flopping onto his back, Yesung lets out a weary groan, because that obviously translates to, 'When I wake up, I expect to see you dressed and ready, credit card in hand.'
"Hyung?"
"Oppa." he corrects, laying a hand over his eyes to ease the oncoming headache.
"Oppa," she laughs, fingers trailing light over his bicep, tugging his hand down to lace with hers, "I'm still bigger, huh?"
Ryeowook tugs the blankets closer with a grin, leaving Yesung to flailing and disgruntled noises.
***
Yesung places his empty glass in the sink with a faint clang.
"Wash that, please."
He turns around at the comment to find Ryeowook, arms crossed (which has the effect of framing her recently obtained assets pretty nicely) eyebrow arched. Shameless, Yesung lets his gaze linger just a little too long as he conducts a very thorough once over from the loose ponytail she's gathered her hair up in, down the bare line of her legs, to the pink polish Sungmin had applied earlier with concerning professionalism to her toes, "Yeah, sure."
He's still staring at the muscle that ripples faintly in her thighs as she steps over with a sigh, plucking the glass out of the sink and picking up the sponge. By the time she places it in the dishdrain, Yesung's eyes are fairly glued to the swell of her behind and he still hasn't regained more than basic speech capabilities, his vocabulary reduced to yes, no, hi and please allow me to fuck you into next week.
And while he's not sure how Ryeowook would respond to that last one, she doesn't seem too affronted by the handful of her ass that he squeezes. Yesung dips his head, mouth pressed to the shell of her ear, just to feel her shiver when he growls, "You dragged me all over for four hours today, and after buying all that clothing, you still can't find anything better than my tshirt to walk around in?"
Voice strained, she whispers plaintively, "I just like the way it smells."
"Right," he scoffs, fingers skimming the hem, "And the fact that you know exactly what you do to me doesn't come into play at all."
Ryeowook curls a hand in front of her mouth, lashes trembling, the delicate look in her eyes contrasting sharply with the bold press of her hips against Yesung's, "Of course not."
Head tilted, Yesung's attention is momentarily drawn to the shift of soft curls over Ryeowook's shoulder as she mirrors him, closing in for a kiss with parted lips. Yesung considers himself a fairly patient man, living and working with the same (clinically insane) people day after day has conditioned his ability to withstand a decent amount, but nothing breaks him as easily or as quickly as Ryeowook does. Almost before he realises it, he's got his hands just above the curve of Ryeowook's hips, gripping her tight as he lifts her up onto the kitchen counter, pushing her legs apart and getting a hand between them before she can even finish her startled cry of, "Jongwoon! What are you doing?"
"Exactly what you asked for," he'd counted on it, but he still can't deny the surge of pure want that washes through him when he slides his fingers farther up and finds nothing between him and the damp heat between her thighs.
She pulls her borrowed tshirt down, eyes squeezing shut, as she tries to cross her ankles, working to scoot farther back on the countertop, "You can't, not here. I- I haven't even-"
Yesung smiles, sharp and promising. He leans in until he can feel her breath against his lips, then shoves a finger straight in and crushes their mouths together, licking the moan off her tongue. He fingers Ryeowook smooth and deep, until he feels her slicking up his palm as he pulls the wetness right out of her. When he gives her a second finger, he pushes it in agonizingly slow, making sure she can feel the stretch, "Good for you, baby? Certainly feels like you're enjoying this,"
"I'm not," Ryeowook whines pitifully, fingers tightening on the hem of her shirt when Yesung slips his thumb over her clit.
"Then what got you this wet?" He uses his free hand to uncurl her fingers, lips brushing the inside of her wrist before he braces her hand on the counter. He slips his freed hand under her shirt to rub circles over the soft skin of her belly, continuing to work his fingers steady and deep until he can feel her hips rocking so slightly into him.
Yesung waits until her groans start to sound like his name before he yanks his fingers free with a sound that brings a blush to her cheeks. He flashes her a wicked grin, wiggling his fingers, slick and shiny, before he sucks them clean. Ryeowook draws in a sharp breath, nose wrinkling as Yesung flicks a tongue between his knuckles, "Knew you'd be sweet."
"That's dirty." she frowns, nearly panting.
He shrugs and lifts her feet onto the counter. She whimpers, a fragile sound that doesn't quite match the strength she's exerting against his palms, placed on the insides of her thighs, as she tries to shut her legs, "Jongwoon, please, please."
"You want me that much, baby?" he laughs, running the pad of his middle finger from her bellybutton and straight on down. Grinning, he traces the small triangle of hair, trimmed close, "Nice."
She turns her head away, nose pressing into her shoulder with a shiver as Yesung moves his finger lower, just ghosting over the wet, empty ache she's having a hard time ignoring. Yesung pushes flush against her, sticking kisses to her neck, whispering words her dazed mind can't grab onto. She bites back a sob when he opens her up, stroking over her until she's pulsing damp against his fingers, body shameless with how much she wants this.
Then soft words turn rough, husky as he breathes against her ear, "Gonna go down on you, put my mouth against you, work you with my tongue 'til you come for me."
Ryeowook doesn't manage more than a choked sound before Yesung's bent at the waist, hands holding her legs open as his tongue slicks lazy circles over her entrance. She can feel the deep breath he takes in, "Hyung, don't! It's- it's embarrassing!"
He pulls back far enough to press a damp kiss to the crease where torso meets thigh, laughing lightly, "Oppa,"
Then he's got his mouth over her, sucking at a taste he knows he'll never get enough of. He loves the way her thighs clench under his hands and how she's slick and tight when he presses his tongue in, fucks her with it until she's wet and wrecked, fingers shaking where they press into the side of his head. Ryeowook repeats his name, her voice cracking with obvious need while she pushes her hips forward. Yesung glances up and sees Ryeowook with the back of her hand against her mouth, panting, tears in her eyes, flushed and too damn pretty for this kind of thing.
He reaches down, moaning into her when he adjusts his cock, squeezing in an effort to release the unbearable pressure. He can't handle more than the slight press of his palm, just the way she's gasping has his cock jerking, a warm spill of precome soaking into the material of his boxers.
"Please," Ryeowook tries to close her legs, hands still unsure whether to push him away or drag him closer. He figures he should help her out a bit and brings his hand up to slip two fingers into her; he tongues her clit and she's crying out and it sounds so good that he can't help but press his fingers in deeper.
The next time he looks up Ryeowook is staring straight at him, or more specifically at his mouth. He grins, and pulls his fingers out just far enough to hold her open before he sticks his tongue out and draws a neat line down her cunt, dipping into her entrance. He keeps licking at her, tongue pressing rough and hot and relentlessly into her while she shudders under him, soaked from it. He works Ryeowook with his tongue, fingers still stroking over her, until she breathes Jongwoon, orgasm shivering through her as she rocks against his mouth.
Yesung stays on his knees, pressing kisses over the inside of her thigh, until Ryeowook curls her fingers in his hair, tugging him up. Ryeowook's on his mouth, kissing him with bruising pressure before he even gets a chance to take a breath. He moans low and helpless when she starts sucking at his tongue, smearing the sticky mixture of saliva and her between them.
She manages to get a hand over the hard line of his cock, straining against the front of his jeans. He pulls out of the kiss with a sharp hiss as she starts to palm him, her slightly smaller hands working him just as familiarly as ever. She puts her mouth over his neck, lips warm and wet as she marks him, a small moan escaping against his skin when she whispers, "I want you in me, Jongwoon. Need you to fuck me, wanna feel you come in me, please."
He's glad Ryeowook's the one working his pants down because he's sure if he'd had to do it himself it would not have gone well, especially not after a line like that. "Fuck, Ryeowook, where'd you learn to talk like that?"
With a tilt of her lips, she curls her hand around his cock, stroking him nice and slow, "I'm not sure you'd like-"
"Ryeowook," he warns through clenched teeth, hips already twitching into the circle of her fingers.
She laughs, voice just a little higher than usual, "You, of course."
Yesung frowns, mumbling as he leans in for a kiss, "S'what I thought."
Ryeowook takes him to the hilt with nothing more than a gasp, legs tight around his hips, fingers clutching at his biceps. Yesung takes a second to pry them away, lifting her arms over her head and pulling her borrowed t shirt off. As soon as her ponytail flops back into place she drops her arms, making a move to cover herself, but Yesung gets there first; he wraps his hands around her wrists, pulling her forearms against his chest as he rocks his hips forward. The strength seeps out of her with the first soft cry of Yesung's name, and by the time he's built up to a steady rhythm, she's winding her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, dropping her head against his shoulder as he pushes into her.
Yesung ends up with one hand on her hip, the other circling her nipple while she moans for more. She's clenching slick around him with every thrust and it's taking him an embarrassing amount of effort not to just give in and fuck that tight heat until he either passes out or comes or even more preferably, both.
He gets in deep and feels Ryeowook tightening around him, hips nearly lifting off the counter as she tries to get more of him inside of her. She maneuvers a hand between them and Yesung's eyes end up glued to the way she strokes herself, slicking circles over her cunt while he fucks her hard. The fingers of Ryeowook's free hand are tangled up in the short hair at the back of his head as she leans upwards pressing her mouth to his ear, "Hyung, I'm so close, make me come, please, Jongwoon."
It doesn't take much more, just a few rough thrusts and he's covering her mouth with his, muffling her cries as she shudders, hips jerking into him. She's still sobbing his name against his lips when Yesung finally gives into the suffocating press of orgasm, grinding against Ryeowook as he comes, spilling hot inside her with nothing more than a choked groan.
There's an ache starting at the back of his skull and he's tempted to check and make sure Ryeowook didn't pull out a handful of hair, but he doubts he's capable of lifting his arm. Ryeowook's kissing him, lazy and sweet with lots of tongue, fingers trailing slowly over his collarbone. He's just calculating how long it'd take him before he could go again when Ryeowook pulls back, looking stunningly wrecked as she lifts her arms around his shoulders, "Carry me."
Yesung laughs and smooths back her flyways the best he can, shaking his head, "I did all the work, you should carry me."
"Or," Ryeowook grins, "We could just stay here until Jungsu-hyung wakes up, I'm sure he-"
He heaves a sigh and hikes his pants back up, tossing Ryeowook her shirt, "Fine, fine. Point proven."
When Ryeowook hops down off the counter she takes a second to slip her nightshirt back on before darting over to grab a spray cleaner from under the sink and wiping down the countertop. Yesung would argue that Ryeowook seems more than capable of walking herself back to bed, but A) he'd be passing up a chance to have her pressed against him and B) he's just not all that sure there's any chance of him winning, regardless.
Ryeowook's just finished stowing the cleaning supplies when she freezes, fingers curled with white knuckles around the hem of her shirt. She stares at Yesung, wide eyed, a blush burning hot over the bridge of her nose as she stutters, "I- you didn't-"
In seconds flat, Yesung's back in front of her, a lazy smile in place as he gets a hand between her thighs, "You never minded it before."
He watches Ryeowook's mouth fall open around a thready moan when he presses the first finger in.
Eeteuk probably won't be up for a while anyway.
(It occurs to him a few days later, after Ryeowook's gone back to his usual gender, as he watches Ryeowook folding laundry in their room.
"So what are we doing with all those skirts and dresses you bought?"
Ryeowook shrugs, laying a neatly folded shirt to the side, "No reason I can't still wear them."
Mouth dry, Yesung manages to croak, "And the heels?"
Ryeowook looks up with a definite glint in his eyes, "Obviously.")
th-this fic. scarred me. for life. ;_____; PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. JFC I FEEL SO EXPOSED. /BURIES SELF
/slinks off dejectedly
Title: Strawberry Tart
Fandom: Super Junior
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Yewook
Summary: Genderswitch!crack
A/N: I'm not even going to bother trying to justify this.
Yesung isn't particularly bothered by waking up to Ryeowook's suddenly developed chest pressed against him, isn't even all that surprised really. He rolls over to face Ryeowook, shaking her gently, "Ryeowook. Ryeowook, wake up."
A delicate hand reaches out and swats at the side of his face as Ryeowook sighs in her sleep, cuddling closer, knee sliding between Yesung's thighs. It's then that it occurs to him. He picks up her hand, carefully unfolding sleep-lax fingers as he holds it up to his own hand for just a moment before hissing, "Are you kidding me, fucking-"
"Hyung?" Ryeowook blinks blearily at him, long lashes fluttering, "What are you doing?"
Yesung quickly drops her hand, eyes wide, "Uh. You've got tits."
Ryeowook looks down and sure enough, there they are. She hums in quiet consideration before settling down into her pillow with a slight yawn, "Remind me in a few hours, I'll need to go shopping."
Flopping onto his back, Yesung lets out a weary groan, because that obviously translates to, 'When I wake up, I expect to see you dressed and ready, credit card in hand.'
"Hyung?"
"Oppa." he corrects, laying a hand over his eyes to ease the oncoming headache.
"Oppa," she laughs, fingers trailing light over his bicep, tugging his hand down to lace with hers, "I'm still bigger, huh?"
Ryeowook tugs the blankets closer with a grin, leaving Yesung to flailing and disgruntled noises.
***
Yesung places his empty glass in the sink with a faint clang.
"Wash that, please."
He turns around at the comment to find Ryeowook, arms crossed (which has the effect of framing her recently obtained assets pretty nicely) eyebrow arched. Shameless, Yesung lets his gaze linger just a little too long as he conducts a very thorough once over from the loose ponytail she's gathered her hair up in, down the bare line of her legs, to the pink polish Sungmin had applied earlier with concerning professionalism to her toes, "Yeah, sure."
He's still staring at the muscle that ripples faintly in her thighs as she steps over with a sigh, plucking the glass out of the sink and picking up the sponge. By the time she places it in the dishdrain, Yesung's eyes are fairly glued to the swell of her behind and he still hasn't regained more than basic speech capabilities, his vocabulary reduced to yes, no, hi and please allow me to fuck you into next week.
And while he's not sure how Ryeowook would respond to that last one, she doesn't seem too affronted by the handful of her ass that he squeezes. Yesung dips his head, mouth pressed to the shell of her ear, just to feel her shiver when he growls, "You dragged me all over for four hours today, and after buying all that clothing, you still can't find anything better than my tshirt to walk around in?"
Voice strained, she whispers plaintively, "I just like the way it smells."
"Right," he scoffs, fingers skimming the hem, "And the fact that you know exactly what you do to me doesn't come into play at all."
Ryeowook curls a hand in front of her mouth, lashes trembling, the delicate look in her eyes contrasting sharply with the bold press of her hips against Yesung's, "Of course not."
Head tilted, Yesung's attention is momentarily drawn to the shift of soft curls over Ryeowook's shoulder as she mirrors him, closing in for a kiss with parted lips. Yesung considers himself a fairly patient man, living and working with the same (clinically insane) people day after day has conditioned his ability to withstand a decent amount, but nothing breaks him as easily or as quickly as Ryeowook does. Almost before he realises it, he's got his hands just above the curve of Ryeowook's hips, gripping her tight as he lifts her up onto the kitchen counter, pushing her legs apart and getting a hand between them before she can even finish her startled cry of, "Jongwoon! What are you doing?"
"Exactly what you asked for," he'd counted on it, but he still can't deny the surge of pure want that washes through him when he slides his fingers farther up and finds nothing between him and the damp heat between her thighs.
She pulls her borrowed tshirt down, eyes squeezing shut, as she tries to cross her ankles, working to scoot farther back on the countertop, "You can't, not here. I- I haven't even-"
Yesung smiles, sharp and promising. He leans in until he can feel her breath against his lips, then shoves a finger straight in and crushes their mouths together, licking the moan off her tongue. He fingers Ryeowook smooth and deep, until he feels her slicking up his palm as he pulls the wetness right out of her. When he gives her a second finger, he pushes it in agonizingly slow, making sure she can feel the stretch, "Good for you, baby? Certainly feels like you're enjoying this,"
"I'm not," Ryeowook whines pitifully, fingers tightening on the hem of her shirt when Yesung slips his thumb over her clit.
"Then what got you this wet?" He uses his free hand to uncurl her fingers, lips brushing the inside of her wrist before he braces her hand on the counter. He slips his freed hand under her shirt to rub circles over the soft skin of her belly, continuing to work his fingers steady and deep until he can feel her hips rocking so slightly into him.
Yesung waits until her groans start to sound like his name before he yanks his fingers free with a sound that brings a blush to her cheeks. He flashes her a wicked grin, wiggling his fingers, slick and shiny, before he sucks them clean. Ryeowook draws in a sharp breath, nose wrinkling as Yesung flicks a tongue between his knuckles, "Knew you'd be sweet."
"That's dirty." she frowns, nearly panting.
He shrugs and lifts her feet onto the counter. She whimpers, a fragile sound that doesn't quite match the strength she's exerting against his palms, placed on the insides of her thighs, as she tries to shut her legs, "Jongwoon, please, please."
"You want me that much, baby?" he laughs, running the pad of his middle finger from her bellybutton and straight on down. Grinning, he traces the small triangle of hair, trimmed close, "Nice."
She turns her head away, nose pressing into her shoulder with a shiver as Yesung moves his finger lower, just ghosting over the wet, empty ache she's having a hard time ignoring. Yesung pushes flush against her, sticking kisses to her neck, whispering words her dazed mind can't grab onto. She bites back a sob when he opens her up, stroking over her until she's pulsing damp against his fingers, body shameless with how much she wants this.
Then soft words turn rough, husky as he breathes against her ear, "Gonna go down on you, put my mouth against you, work you with my tongue 'til you come for me."
Ryeowook doesn't manage more than a choked sound before Yesung's bent at the waist, hands holding her legs open as his tongue slicks lazy circles over her entrance. She can feel the deep breath he takes in, "Hyung, don't! It's- it's embarrassing!"
He pulls back far enough to press a damp kiss to the crease where torso meets thigh, laughing lightly, "Oppa,"
Then he's got his mouth over her, sucking at a taste he knows he'll never get enough of. He loves the way her thighs clench under his hands and how she's slick and tight when he presses his tongue in, fucks her with it until she's wet and wrecked, fingers shaking where they press into the side of his head. Ryeowook repeats his name, her voice cracking with obvious need while she pushes her hips forward. Yesung glances up and sees Ryeowook with the back of her hand against her mouth, panting, tears in her eyes, flushed and too damn pretty for this kind of thing.
He reaches down, moaning into her when he adjusts his cock, squeezing in an effort to release the unbearable pressure. He can't handle more than the slight press of his palm, just the way she's gasping has his cock jerking, a warm spill of precome soaking into the material of his boxers.
"Please," Ryeowook tries to close her legs, hands still unsure whether to push him away or drag him closer. He figures he should help her out a bit and brings his hand up to slip two fingers into her; he tongues her clit and she's crying out and it sounds so good that he can't help but press his fingers in deeper.
The next time he looks up Ryeowook is staring straight at him, or more specifically at his mouth. He grins, and pulls his fingers out just far enough to hold her open before he sticks his tongue out and draws a neat line down her cunt, dipping into her entrance. He keeps licking at her, tongue pressing rough and hot and relentlessly into her while she shudders under him, soaked from it. He works Ryeowook with his tongue, fingers still stroking over her, until she breathes Jongwoon, orgasm shivering through her as she rocks against his mouth.
Yesung stays on his knees, pressing kisses over the inside of her thigh, until Ryeowook curls her fingers in his hair, tugging him up. Ryeowook's on his mouth, kissing him with bruising pressure before he even gets a chance to take a breath. He moans low and helpless when she starts sucking at his tongue, smearing the sticky mixture of saliva and her between them.
She manages to get a hand over the hard line of his cock, straining against the front of his jeans. He pulls out of the kiss with a sharp hiss as she starts to palm him, her slightly smaller hands working him just as familiarly as ever. She puts her mouth over his neck, lips warm and wet as she marks him, a small moan escaping against his skin when she whispers, "I want you in me, Jongwoon. Need you to fuck me, wanna feel you come in me, please."
He's glad Ryeowook's the one working his pants down because he's sure if he'd had to do it himself it would not have gone well, especially not after a line like that. "Fuck, Ryeowook, where'd you learn to talk like that?"
With a tilt of her lips, she curls her hand around his cock, stroking him nice and slow, "I'm not sure you'd like-"
"Ryeowook," he warns through clenched teeth, hips already twitching into the circle of her fingers.
She laughs, voice just a little higher than usual, "You, of course."
Yesung frowns, mumbling as he leans in for a kiss, "S'what I thought."
Ryeowook takes him to the hilt with nothing more than a gasp, legs tight around his hips, fingers clutching at his biceps. Yesung takes a second to pry them away, lifting her arms over her head and pulling her borrowed t shirt off. As soon as her ponytail flops back into place she drops her arms, making a move to cover herself, but Yesung gets there first; he wraps his hands around her wrists, pulling her forearms against his chest as he rocks his hips forward. The strength seeps out of her with the first soft cry of Yesung's name, and by the time he's built up to a steady rhythm, she's winding her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, dropping her head against his shoulder as he pushes into her.
Yesung ends up with one hand on her hip, the other circling her nipple while she moans for more. She's clenching slick around him with every thrust and it's taking him an embarrassing amount of effort not to just give in and fuck that tight heat until he either passes out or comes or even more preferably, both.
He gets in deep and feels Ryeowook tightening around him, hips nearly lifting off the counter as she tries to get more of him inside of her. She maneuvers a hand between them and Yesung's eyes end up glued to the way she strokes herself, slicking circles over her cunt while he fucks her hard. The fingers of Ryeowook's free hand are tangled up in the short hair at the back of his head as she leans upwards pressing her mouth to his ear, "Hyung, I'm so close, make me come, please, Jongwoon."
It doesn't take much more, just a few rough thrusts and he's covering her mouth with his, muffling her cries as she shudders, hips jerking into him. She's still sobbing his name against his lips when Yesung finally gives into the suffocating press of orgasm, grinding against Ryeowook as he comes, spilling hot inside her with nothing more than a choked groan.
There's an ache starting at the back of his skull and he's tempted to check and make sure Ryeowook didn't pull out a handful of hair, but he doubts he's capable of lifting his arm. Ryeowook's kissing him, lazy and sweet with lots of tongue, fingers trailing slowly over his collarbone. He's just calculating how long it'd take him before he could go again when Ryeowook pulls back, looking stunningly wrecked as she lifts her arms around his shoulders, "Carry me."
Yesung laughs and smooths back her flyways the best he can, shaking his head, "I did all the work, you should carry me."
"Or," Ryeowook grins, "We could just stay here until Jungsu-hyung wakes up, I'm sure he-"
He heaves a sigh and hikes his pants back up, tossing Ryeowook her shirt, "Fine, fine. Point proven."
When Ryeowook hops down off the counter she takes a second to slip her nightshirt back on before darting over to grab a spray cleaner from under the sink and wiping down the countertop. Yesung would argue that Ryeowook seems more than capable of walking herself back to bed, but A) he'd be passing up a chance to have her pressed against him and B) he's just not all that sure there's any chance of him winning, regardless.
Ryeowook's just finished stowing the cleaning supplies when she freezes, fingers curled with white knuckles around the hem of her shirt. She stares at Yesung, wide eyed, a blush burning hot over the bridge of her nose as she stutters, "I- you didn't-"
In seconds flat, Yesung's back in front of her, a lazy smile in place as he gets a hand between her thighs, "You never minded it before."
He watches Ryeowook's mouth fall open around a thready moan when he presses the first finger in.
Eeteuk probably won't be up for a while anyway.
(It occurs to him a few days later, after Ryeowook's gone back to his usual gender, as he watches Ryeowook folding laundry in their room.
"So what are we doing with all those skirts and dresses you bought?"
Ryeowook shrugs, laying a neatly folded shirt to the side, "No reason I can't still wear them."
Mouth dry, Yesung manages to croak, "And the heels?"
Ryeowook looks up with a definite glint in his eyes, "Obviously.")
th-this fic. scarred me. for life. ;_____; PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. JFC I FEEL SO EXPOSED. /BURIES SELF