#And my man's been through absolute hell of the life
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I wish you would write a fake dating fic where Clint or Bucky has to play lovey dovey with Nat (or someone else) for a mission, and they do a really good job at being convincingly in love, and that’s the trigger for the unpartnered party to realize how badly they wanted to be in Nat’s spot.
You!!! You are my favorite. This is going directly in my wips but uhh oops have the 700ish words that fell out in the last half hour: See, the mission isn’t an issue. They’ve done this before, the whole giggly-handsy-just-married-style of touristy shtick tended to be a perfect cover when they wanted to be seen but not necessarily noticed.
Except it was usually Clint pressed close to Natasha, playing a silent game of chicken with wandering hands.
And now Clint is on the sidelines.
The Backup, y’know, putting the eye in Hawkeye to use, the safety net while the spider and her mate spin invisible threads around their prey.
And, well, look, his job is to look, isn’t it? So sue him, he’s looking.
He’s caught half the damn fair drooling over them as they wander around.
Case in point, Bucky makes a show of ‘covertly’ looking around before tugging her into a less-than-hidden alcove. He picks her up by the waist like she’s made of air. When he sets her down on some kind of table, she’s slightly taller than he is. Her arms slip around his shoulders and her legs part to let him between her knees, and Clint’s not about to choke on his own spit about it, no sirree.
They’re shooed back out into the main walkway hardly a minute later. Bucky radiates the perfect amount of smugness as he tucks her under his arm, a hint of lipstick ruining the corner of his beautifully pouty mouth. Nat is the picture of shyly mortified glee, burrowing into his side to highlight the mess he’s made of her hair.
They turn the corner and she pulls him down for a kiss that lingers slightly too long, brushing her lipstick off his mouth only to kiss him again like she can’t help herself.
God. Bucky’s eyes are so dark when he straightens, thumbing at his mouth and kissing the top of her head. They step up to a game Clint knows is rigged five ways from Sunday, but Bucky plays the kid running it like a fiddle, knocking down the bottles that have been glued down with a wink. He makes a big show out of collecting a giant stuffed cat, calico with huge green eyes, and presenting it to Nat with all the gravitas of a fucking proposal. The smirk on his stupid mouth makes Clint want to eat his own arrows.
“Hey,” Sam mutters, knocking their shoulders together. “Tone down the scowl, man, you’re gonna freak out the mark.”
“Am not.”
“You absolutely are, dumbass. What’s got you all grumpy anyway? Still pissed Bucky got tapped to be Nat’s boy toy?”
“I can pull off a good pair of heels, too, y'know” Clint mutters.
“I’m afraid to ask,” Sam drawls.
Clint’s too busy watching the way Bucky runs a hand down Nat’s arm. He hooks their knuckles together and pulls her hand up for a kiss that’s more indecent than when he was literally grinding into her a minute ago. She giggles, long lashes fluttering as she lets him pull her in against him again.
“Yo. Barton. You with me? Where’s your head at, man?”
“I have never wanted to be short so bad in my life,” Clint answers stupidly.
“Again. What in the actual hell?”
Bucky’s hand is so casually possessive as it rests on the back of her hip. He guides her around some kind of cotton candy debacle and the muscles in his arm should be criminal.
Sam bursts into a horrible wheezing cackle that bends him in half.
Clint blinks. He darts a look to where Bucky’s running his hands through Nat’s hair, twirling it around his finger as they talk to someone’s grandma hawking funky crocheted dolls. He looks back down to where Sam’s going darker from the force of his laughter.
“What the fuck?”
“Oh man,” Sam gasps, throwing a hand on Clint’s arm to help himself upright. “You’re down bad, aren’t you?”
Clint looks back. Bucky’s got his head thrown back on his own laughter, throat bared and eyes scrunched up. He’s the most gorgeous thing Clint’s ever laid eyes on.
“Yeah,” Sam says. “You’ve got terrible taste.”
Bucky chooses that moment to slant a look over his shoulder, like he knows.
Clint gives him the all-clear, and for some reason Sam starts laughing again.
“The worst,” he repeats.
And that’s just not true at all.
“Could be worse,” Clint says once he manages to squash the need to go nuh-uh like he’s three instead of thirty. “Could be you.”
#winterhawk#Sol writes#asks answered#betrayedbycinnamon#oh i maybe got a little too excited#do I post this as a silly messy oneshot or do i hoard it and see if i can make it Big. Decisions decisions
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I know vastness of Primarch lore is cool, but my first ever loves in Wh40k always were your semi ordinary Astartes.
Nothing like taking a child, brainwashing them, stuffing them with extra organs and various implants and growing them into human supersoldier in few years.
Also them just mercilessly murdering shit up always brightens my day.
#Post#On other news i cannot wait to play space marine 2 one day#I played sm1 and liked the game though i did not finish it because i want to do it and have ability to instantly play sm2#I also do plan to grab rogue trader game at some point#Everything about wh40k is pretty cool not gonna lie#I love how stories would that be a primarch or ordinary astartes always vary from showcasing human side and total brutality in combat#You gotta love this shit i know i do#I mean who doesn't love titus? Than man is very well written depressed dad material somewhat impossible to kill or taint#And my man's been through absolute hell of the life#Still happy to serve the emprah tho
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"Do you know where we are going next?" I asked ART.
Y'know what, I think maybe I don't need any more Murderbot books. I think maybe ending things here is fucking perfect and as much as I love Wells's writing I'm genuinely not sure it can get better for me.
Like, so much of the books are about MB learning how to be a person, about becoming okay with being a complete individual with everything it entails. The first thing it does once it's actually allowed to decide on its own is it runs away from it all (admittedly to go on a mission to confirm some things about its past, because it genuinely just wants to be *good*). It shoves all its emotions away as much as it's able to. Then shit happens, and it makes its first friends, makes decisions based on these friendships, goes through a lot of emotionally intense situations...
And we get to this point here. MB having zero doubts about going with ART says a lot about its relationship with ART, but it also says a lot about its relationship with its humans - it knows that wherever it goes, when it comes back, the humans will still be there. Its humans actively acknowledge its struggles with being a now-free SecUnit and MB is willing to entertain the discussions to an extent and share information about its deeply personal experiences. Hell, System Collapse ends with MB admitting it might be somewhat broken, but that's okay as long as it can keep doing its job, and agreeing to basically do counselling - this is the guy what would rewatch its favourite TV show again and again in order to avoid acknowledging it even had Emotions a couple books back.
Reading this, I know that MB will be okay. It has hopes and goals and genuinely believes in itself and it has an amazing support system that its willing to lean on for the first time in its life. I'm convinced it'll go on to do great things with ART. And that's really the only thing I need to know.
#Murderbot#murderbot diaries#tmbd#system collapse#Herr's personal tag#Also like. System collapse dives deep into MB's feelings about its life as secunit prior to the events of all systems red#I find this conversation from when they were discussing what would happen if the BE folks got to the colonists first /very/ telling#MB going on about how life as a corporate slave is absolute fucking hell#ART drone saying that they can't just kill people because the alternative is worse than death#ART: would it have been kinder to kill you before you'd disabled your governor module?#MB with zero fucking hesitation: /yes/#(followed by my favourite ART line ever. “You know I am not kind.”)#Like. MB would not have always admitted that it had hated its life as a secunit this openly#Saying it was shit is one thing saying I would rather be dead than think of me or anyone else going through this again is a very different#And here it has zero issues stating that. At least when talking to ART#And then later on it goes on to offer its actual memories for a publicly screened documentary#Because it knows it's the only way to make people see. The only way to save then from the same (ish) fate#And it's willing to do whatever it takes to save these people it's never even met before from what it views as fate worse than death#Including opening up and acknowledging its past experiences and past/current feelings#And I'm just like. Man I couldn't be more proud of you if I tried.#You go MB. Holy fuck I wish I could do what you've done. You might just be the person to defeat this evil capitalism my dude
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#I keep writing and deleting every single post I want to make#Its always been a big nono to talk about how we feel online#Even MORE so after what happened#And EVEN MORE SO bc we see our troubles as pebbles in comparison to what others went through#But fuck me man#The last 4 years have been an absolute hell on earth for me#and when I was finally about to slowly work on getting everything back together#October 7 happens#And everything did such a huge 180 in my life that I cant even put it into words
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ngl its absolutely crazy how much winning a cup has rewritten history and the narrative™ because hearing "theres nothing negative you can say about being a florida panther" NOW. KEY WORD ON NOW. Because this absolutely was not the fucking case even since the franchises inception like even this year yall were making fun of our attendance numbers despite them being one of the best theyve ever been LIKE HUH. WHAT DID WE FORGET THE WHOLE SOFLO IS NOT A HOCKEY MARKET WE SHOULD MOVE THIS FRANCHISE. WE'RE BEGGING PEOPLE TO FILL THE LOWER BOWL. OH I FEEL BAD FOR SASHA AND EKKY FOR BEING DOOMED TO A FRANCHISE. THIS PLACE IS AN EMBARRASMENT. ETC. are we forgetting all that. are we just not going to acknowledge that.
#txt#“you guys are living the dream!” i remember explicitly florida being a destination for the doomed#like this is absolutely insane to say to someone who got drafted by the them and had to live through the horrors#i feel as though soflo teams are very prevalent with the oh you got traded over their? i feel sorry for you buddy#like its the same narrative with fish except our glory days are behind us and our ownership is so fucking shitty#like anytime youre traded over here its treated like a funeral and a punishment#i feel like context for these type of sentences are so important#ekky literally going yeah tsa and police officers greeted us and said thank you and we've never had that#“its been pretty quiet over here” is a light way of putting it#i think the best way i can try to explain to people not in soflo about all this is thay#when cats played in dade i did not hear a single peep about them. no one talked about them even in the schoolyard.#and we loved talking about sports recaps??? like ive always remember talking about the fish heat and dolphins#ive always been invited out to those games as a kid and just enjoying it#i remember players getting invited to my school and afterschool programs or getting invited to the stadium and chilling with them#never once was a panthers player invited#we never went to games. they never went to my school. nothing.#hell for an early portion of my life i didnt even realise we had a hockey team and im a big sports fanatic#a friend when i was younger from upstate was like hockeys pretty cool ill take you to a game one day and i was like we have hockey?#it was a sport you saw on the car dealership tvs as toddled about and nowhere else#like man quiet is really putting it lightly
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ok sorry if this sounds fucking insane. i need to write something out.
#vent. sort of.#okay. why do i have absolutely no clue what i want or like. like in life. career/job/college/life etc wise. no interests beyond casual.#and amateur level interests. which is fine but i don’t think i want them to go higher and therefore aren’t careers you know. i like them#for fun. but like all my friends have interests and things they’re studying or doing that i hear it and i’m like oh my god yeah that’s them#that’s perfect. that’s so them. of course. makes perfect sense. and they have the history of hobbies and interest in the topic to back that#choice up. but me? man i have fucking nothing. i feel like i have been in survival mode forever and i literally have not had the opportunit#or ability to develop myself and my interests or even my fucking STYLE or ANYTHING!!! it seems worthless FOR ME. WHY????????#that’s the survival mode talking. but like what am i supposed to do now. i feel like a fucking shell of a person. like the only thing that#passes through this brain is whatever my current hyperfixation is and whatever new hell/trauma/issue i’m dealing with in my life. that’s it#man i remember being a kid and having vibrancy and passion and interests. and it just left. maybe it left when my brother was born when i#was 10. maybe it left during any one of the traumautic experiences or abuse during my teenage years.#but then i wonder what my friends see. like do i have interests and likes in their eyes? i mean space has been My Thing to my friends for#years now but even my interest and love for that was a coping mechanism (escapism) and i’m not interested in the science beyond what i can#use to cope and mentally escape or use in my head as hope for escape.#MAN i feel like i’m so fucked. like i don’t know what the fuck to do. i don’t want to do anything. maybe i’m depressed?#i mean i know i do and have dealt with depression but i mean maybe that’s what this is from.#maybe i’m autistic? maybe adhd and maybe that’s why i have whims and phases that never stick? i don’t know.#maybe it’s from the dysphoria? maybe it’s like bc i can’t picture a future for myself bc of that? probably not cuz i have trans friends who#do indeed have solid interests and senses of self.#so. i don’t fucking know.#i don’t fucking know. i don’t know what to do. i feel like i’m falling behind and like i’ll never get out and i’ll never get my head into#my own real life and the present in order to figure out who i am and what i like and want. i’ve got NOTHING. HEAD. EMPTY. WHAT THE FUCK.#what the fuck. what do people do when they run up against this problem. i don’t know.#maybe this rn is just because i’m on my period. i don’t know. fuck.#maybe it’s dissociation. or like FROM my lifelong dissociation issues. hmm.#okay but THEN i’m like okay this is a really privileged problem to have like. i have a choice in what i want to do. which is nice. and i am#not even being rushed by my family. so like. then i feel even worse for feeling this way. fuck. maybe it’s fine maybe it’s all fine.#maybe this just happens sometimes and a person has no interests and it’s fine. i don’t fucking know. doesn’t seem to be that way for most#people but maybe. who knows#vent
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#yeah so I'm absolutely having a breakdown#which sucks because ive been doing alright for awhile#and it makes sense tbh#not to invalidate myself#so many things that are outside of my control have gone wrong recently#someone tried to steal my car again and I'm fixing it myself because I can't afford to bring it somewhere#and the job that would change my life keeps ghosting me#and I need to let my landlord know about renewing my lease yesterday (literally yesterday i was supposed to) but im waiting on this job#and money is tight#and my insurance is stalling on covering my migraine meds#to get a 3 day supply is >100$ through the lowest discount card#and to get a full month supply costs more than my rent at its cheapest#so I've been mostly in pain and lowkey confused as the drug works its way out of my system#and I'm on my period which destabilized because i had to come off my birth control for the first time in years (due to the migraines)#I watched a car flip the other night#and if that weren't enough I can't stop remembering the last time i saw a car flip and two people died on impact#and my dad was dragging bodies out of the car on fire#...we had been driving to the ER because I had tried to kill myself again#all I could think was that it should have been me#and I slept with a guy at work which was fine neither of us wanted it to be a thing#but now he's seeing this new girl that works with us and they're making my life hell about it#and I just don't have a single friend or anyone I feel is there for me#I never get to have that and I don't know why#literally no one gives a shit I could say I'm dying ij this room and it still wouldn't be as important as some guy so and so is pining after#I don't matter unless im useful#I feel like I'm screaming and no one can hear me#fuck this man we were doing so good there for a bit#Genuinely afraid im reaching a breaking point I'll never recover from
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so the thing about english is that people think it's so divorced from other germanic languages based on like. words. I've even heard people try to insist that english is a romance language. because of that whole messy business in 1066 with out-of-wedlock willy and his band of naughty normans. and now a good chunk of the vocabulary is french or whatever and they're prestigious so not using them makes you sound like a rube and this and that and the other
and yes william the conqueror will never be safe from me. I will have my revenge on him. he fucked up a perfectly good germanic language is what he did. this will be me in hell
but the thing is that most words in, say, german do have a one to one english equivalent. not all hope is lost, for those who still dare to see it. it's just that you 1066pilled normancels aren't looking in the right place
dog (en) ≠ der Hund (de) but der Hund (de) -> hound (en)
look with your special eyes. that one was easier. not all of them are this intuitive because of semantic narrowing and broadening and waltzing and hokey-pokeying and whatever else. I'll give you a few more
animal (en) ≠ das Tier (de)
aha! you think. I've got him on the ropes now.
but then
das Tier (de) -> deer (en)
nooooo!! you whine and cry in gay baby jail. the consonants are different!!! listen to me. listen, I say, putting both my hands on your shoulder. /t/and /d/ are the same sound. you just put your voice behind one of them.
nooooooooo!! you wail. deer are animals but not all animals are deer!!! listen to me. LISTEN. they used to be. animals used to be deer. that's just what we called them. it was a long time ago. it was a weird time in all our lives. it's okay.
let's try for a verb this time
to die (en) ≠ sterben (de) but sterben (de) -> to starve
same principle with the consonants, we're just changing a stop (where we completely stop the airflow and then let it through) for a fricative (where we still let some air go through. idk where it's going. maybe to its job or something.)
to starve used to mean generally to die, not just to die of malnourishment. we do that a lot. we take one word for a lot of things and make it mean one thing. or take one word for one thing and make it mean a lot of things. this is common and normal.
"okay but roland," you say, suddenly coming up with an argument. "what about tree? trees are super common. I don't think we'd fuck around too much with that. the german word is baum! what about THAT?"
"when did you learn german?" I ask, but then decide it isn't relevant right at this very moment. but fine.
tree (en) ≠ der Baum (de) but der Baum (de) -> beam (en)
beam??? you ask incredulously. beam???? BEAM?????? you continue with the same tone and cadence of captain holt from brooklyn 99.
yes. beam. like the evil beams from my eye I'm going to hit you with if you don't stop shouting.
but the vowels!!! you howl.
listen. listen to me. the vowels mean nothing. absolutely nothing. they're fluid like water. it got raised in english.
"WHAT DOES RAISED MEAN"
it doesn't matter right now. they were raised better than you, at least. stop shouting. open your eyes and see what god has given you. they're the same word.
"they're NOT the same word. they mean different things!"
we've been over this. they didn't used to. a beam was (and is) a long solid piece of wood. much like the long solid piece of wood I showed your mother last night.
FAQ:
Q: could english be some kind of germanic-romance hybrid?
A: do you become a sexy thing from the black lagoon just because you dressed up as one for halloween? english may have gotten a lot of vocabulary from norman french, but its history and syntax are distinctly germanic. that's what we base these things on.
Q: okay but what does it matter? this doesn't actually affect my day to day life
A: you come into my house? you come into my house, the house of an autistic man living in vienna austria and studying english linguistics and you ask me what does it matter? sit back down. I was going to let you go but now I have powerpoints to show you
Q: you're stupid and wrong and gay and a bad person
A: I know it's you, Willy
#I don't know what came over me#it was the devil#linguistics#english linguistics#etymology#shitpost nach sacher art#notification station
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A Ghostly Text Mishap
Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.
Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.
Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.
Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.
Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.
Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.
Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…
Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.
He typed back:
Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.
Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.
Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?
Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?
Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.
Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.
Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.
“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.
“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.
Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”
Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.
Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?
Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.
Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?
Jason smirked.
Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.
Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.
Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?
Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?
Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”
Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.
Jason: Yet.
Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.
Danny: That’s not funny, dude.
Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.
Danny sighed, shaking his head.
Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?
Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.
“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.
“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc#blue rambles#crossover#random idea#writing ideas#batman#jason todd#danny phantom dc#wrong number#au#Jason is concerned and doing his best to keep the green at bay#Danny is freaking out cause he just spilled everything#oh no#danny is already stressed over his life#he doesnt need more#he totally does the disappearing peace out meme when he spots Redhood in town a few days later#and Redhood totally got Babs to hunt down the owner of the number and boy oh boy does that open a can of worms#anti-ecto acts piss him off cause he technically falls under it too#and thats just touching the surface of things that piss him off#dps fandom#dc x dp crossover#batfam#danny is a little shit#dpxdc#ghost king danny#dc x dp#sassy danny#danny being danny
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Older Boyfriend Simon Riley
Thanks to the notes on my last post, I will be posting this blurb here. It's just for shits and giggles.
Older Boyfriend!Simon Riley who has been the best boyfriend you have ever had.
Refuses to let you call a handyman. Leaky sink? He had it fixed before you even knew there was a problem. Squeaky desk chair? Suddenly completely silent.
Gets really competitive with Mario Kart and refuses to play again after losing a couple of rounds. Gets really into Minecraft but doesn’t let you help build things because “You’re doing it wrong” even though you’re the one who taught him how to play
Does not understand girl math.
-- “The fuck you mean it’s not real money
-- “If I use cash, it’s free because it doesn’t come out of my account. Therefore it’s not real money.”
-- “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”
-- Now drops cash in your purse so that you have “fake” money to use.
Hates girl dinner only because he knows that a bowl of popcorn or a couple crackers and cheese is not a full meal.
A year of his life drops off every time he hears you saying “I’m doing it for the plot.”
Refuses to download tiktok but will watch them on your phone with you for hours at a time
Went on a very long lecture about the Roman Empire and how it came to be (talk specifically about the military aspect) once you mentioned something was your Roman empire. Didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep halfway through the lecture. Still doesn’t know what you mean when you say something is your Roman Empire.
Has absolutely no idea what you mean when you say “same.”
-- You had to explain that it was just something you said when you found anything relatable
-- “What the bloody hell could be relatable about a plastic bag blowing across the road.”
Has attempted to use the word slay in a sentence and it only ended with you in the longest laughing fit known to man.
Listens to you explain celebrity beef and wonders why you talk about them like you know them personally and how you know all this information.
Vine references, goes right over his head.
-- One time quoted “Road work ahead, uh yeah I sure hope it does” after you had done it so many times, you nearly choked to death on air that day.
Emojis are his worst enemy. Never gets the message when you try to hint at something using emojis.
Learns very early on that anytime you two go out for errands, you require a sweet treat.
-- Uses going out to get a sweet treat as an excuse to take you out on dates
-- Also makes sure to buy you a sweet treat anytime you complete a task you didn’t want to do.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley hcs#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost hcs#call of duty hcs#call of duty#ghost call of duty
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nasty habits | park jisung
pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader
genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end
summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?
wc: 20k+
warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.
your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.
but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.
and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.
after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.
it started on a whim, born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and suddenly, you were kind of a big deal on the platform.
granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure, the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college, entirely out of pocket.
you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.
“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.
“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”
“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink
“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.
“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.
“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.
“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”
“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.
you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.
“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”
“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.
“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”
you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.
“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”
“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.
“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.
you raised a brow. “unless what?”
“haechan.”
you frowned. “what about him?”
“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.
“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.
“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”
“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.
“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.
karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”
you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”
“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.
“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.
“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”
giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.
“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.
karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”
before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.
“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.
giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”
“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.
“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.
once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.
“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.
giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”
“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.
karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.
“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”
giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”
haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.
“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.
“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.
“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.
“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”
haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.
you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”
“eh… like a seven. why?”
“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”
his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”
you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”
giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”
haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”
you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.
“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.
haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”
giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”
haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”
“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.
“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”
haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”
groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.
“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.
“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.
“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”
“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”
“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.
“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.
“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”
“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.
“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”
“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”
“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”
“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.
he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”
“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”
“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.
“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.
“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.
“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”
“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”
“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.
“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.
“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”
“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”
haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”
“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.
“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”
giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”
“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”
“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”
“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”
“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”
you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”
haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.
“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”
“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”
karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”
giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”
you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.
the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.
“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”
“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”
“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”
“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”
he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.
“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”
his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.
“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.
karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”
“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”
“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”
“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”
you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”
“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.
“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”
“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.
“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”
“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”
karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”
“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”
karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”
“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”
karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”
“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”
“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”
“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”
haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”
“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”
“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.
“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”
“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”
“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.
“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.
“okay, fine. let’s go home.”
“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.
“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.
you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.
“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.
but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.
suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.
“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.
“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.
“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”
you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.
karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”
giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”
when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”
“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.
“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”
“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.
giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”
you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”
“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”
“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.
karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”
“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”
“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”
“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”
giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”
“boo!”
haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.
“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.
“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.
you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.
“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.
“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”
giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”
“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”
“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.
“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”
your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.
you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:
you’d already interacted with him before.
not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.
you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.
“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.
you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”
“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.
jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.
you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”
“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.
“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”
“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”
“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.
“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.
“can i come?” haechan asked.
you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.
your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.
the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.
the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.
at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.
“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.
you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.
“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”
you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.
“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”
the messages came in rapid-fire:
“omg collette’s back!”
“you look stunning as always.”
“been waiting for this for weeks!”
you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”
the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.
“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”
you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”
the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.
you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”
a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”
you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.
“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.
he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.
“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.
almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.
the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.
“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.
“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”
“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”
your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.
you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.
as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”
his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.
he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.
“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered
in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.
“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.
it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.
“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.
this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.
he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.
of course, none of that happened.
you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.
you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.
after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.
on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.
on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.
you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.
you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.
“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”
his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.
“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”
he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.
you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.
you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.
“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.
you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.
you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.
“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.
behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.
jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.
normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.
but you weren’t like them.
he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.
since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.
it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.
and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.
he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.
his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.
“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.
jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.
“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.
jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.
she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.
when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.
stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.
but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.
his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.
when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.
how am i supposed to survive this?
jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.
she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.
and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.
and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.
he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.
so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.
not that jisung cared, of course.
but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.
today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.
he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.
but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.
you were there.
your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.
he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.
his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?
you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.
“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”
you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.
“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”
he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.
“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”
“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”
jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.
“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”
you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.
“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”
you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.
he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.
but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.
he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.
but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.
you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.
“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.
“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”
you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”
jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.
“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”
you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.
he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.
“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”
jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.
“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”
his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.
“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”
he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.
as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.
he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.
you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.
when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.
he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.
you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.
and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.
by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.
you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.
jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.
why does that look so familiar?
he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.
and then it hit him.
his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.
holy shit.
jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.
he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.
“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.
he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.
he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.
sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.
you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.
his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.
but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.
you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.
the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.
you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.
you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.
“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.
he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.
you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.
his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.
“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.
his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.
“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.
you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.
“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”
he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.
“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.
jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.
“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”
he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.
as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.
when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?
jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.
since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.
“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.
“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.
“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”
“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that
but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.
as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.
you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.
jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.
focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.
“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.
you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”
“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”
you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”
“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.
he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.
“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.
“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.
“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”
“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.
you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”
“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.
but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”
jisung froze. fuck.
his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?
“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”
he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.
“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.
jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.
he needed to take care of this. now.
standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.
he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.
“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”
“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”
he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.
“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”
your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.
jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?
“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”
before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”
his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.
sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.
“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.
sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.
jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.
“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”
you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.
“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”
jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”
your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”
but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”
jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”
sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”
“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”
you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.
“listen here, you little shi—”
“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”
sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”
jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.
as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.
“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”
jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”
“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.
jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”
you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.
“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.
you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”
“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”
he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.
you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.
but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.
“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.
“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”
“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.
you laughed. “are you serious right now?”
“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”
he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.
what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.
“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.
jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”
“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.
he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”
“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”
“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”
“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”
his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.
“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.
he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.
he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.
you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”
jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.
“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”
his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”
“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”
you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”
jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.
“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.
“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.
jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.
you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”
he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.
“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”
he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.
“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”
jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.
“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.
jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.
“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.
when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.
and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.
“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.
jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.
“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”
jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”
“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”
“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”
“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.
“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”
jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.
“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”
jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?
“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”
“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”
jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”
“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.
jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”
“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”
your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”
jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.
“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”
you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.
his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.
“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.
“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”
“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”
jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.
“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.
“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.
“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.
“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.
you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”
“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”
“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.
“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.
“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”
“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.
jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.
“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.
“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.
you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”
“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.
“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.
before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.
“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.
jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.
“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”
“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”
jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.
“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.
you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.
that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.
the sound of retching woke him up.
he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.
“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”
“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.
“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”
jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.
“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”
jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.
his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.
before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.
“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”
jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”
“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”
his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.
“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.
“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.
his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?
he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.
“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.
“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”
with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.
he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.
when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.
the door swung open after his third knock.
there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.
"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.
but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.
“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.
“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.
“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.
jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.
"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."
"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.
“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.
"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"
your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.
"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.
jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.
"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.
"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.
"would you like to guest on my channel?"
jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”
he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."
you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."
jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?
“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.
jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?
but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.
with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."
“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.
but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.
you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.
“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.
he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”
you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”
your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.
your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”
he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.
you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.
you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.
“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.
“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.
“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”
his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.
“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.
“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.
his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.
“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”
the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.
“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”
the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.
before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.
your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.
“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.
“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”
“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.
he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.
“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.
jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.
you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.
“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.
“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.
“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.
jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.
you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.
“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”
the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.
“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.
“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”
the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.
jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.
“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.
his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.
you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.
“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”
his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.
you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.
“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.
“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”
your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.
“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.
his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.
“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.
your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.
you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.
“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.
“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”
you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”
he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.
“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.
“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.
“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.
his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.
just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.
a condom.
jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.
“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.
goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.
“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.
“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.
jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.
“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.
“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.
the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.
it fit perfectly.
“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.
jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.
“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.
jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.
you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.
"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.
he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.
“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.
“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.
“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”
you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.
"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."
jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.
when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.
"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.
you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”
you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.
“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”
his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.
"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.
jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.
you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.
“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.
you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.
“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.
jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.
“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”
the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.
his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.
“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.
jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”
you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”
he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”
the next day...
“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.
“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”
jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.
“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.
a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.
earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.
jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.
“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.
he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.
the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.
and he was succeeding.
your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.
he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.
you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”
his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.
jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.
a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3
#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct smut#nct dream fic#nct dream smut#nct#park jisung#jisung x reader#nct jisung#jisung smut#jisung x you#nct fic#nct moodboard#jisung imagines#nct dream x you#nct dream
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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 !
synopsis. upon recovering from a recent breakup with your longtime boyfriend, you find yourself confiding in a certain raven-haired man who is more than pleased to show you the rhapsodies of pleasure that his idiot of a cousin failed to give you.
pairing. zen'in toji x fem!reader genre. age gap au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), slight slow burn, slight angst, ooc!toji (pls be warned), p in v -> unprotected sex, age gap (reader in mid 20s + toji’s in his mid 30s), infidelity, slap on the cheek (m), consumption of alcohol, loads of tension, big dick!toji, rough sex, cervix fucking, explicit language/dirty talk, fingering, squirting, oral sex (m+f), reader’s on the pill, creampiez, toji calls you “doll”, toji’s not a papaguro </3 + voyeurism & public sex (in extra scene)
wc. 16k
author's note. another repost of my work from my previous blog (chosai), and this is undeniably one of my top fav writing pieces <3
FOR THREE LONG YEARS, you genuinely believed that this man, Zen'in Naoya, was going to be the one you'd marry. However, one curious peek on his unlocked phone proved you wrong – terribly, terribly wrong. All those years spent on believing your mundane love life was due to your boyfriend’s grueling office job; often working long hours, and then coming home straight to the bed to fall asleep before waking up again and heading back to work — and all those messages proved your theories wrong. He wasn’t the workaholic he said he was, after all. The sounds of the shower running egged you to continue scrolling down his phone, feeling a myriad of emotions coursing through your veins; be it anger, dread, sadness, denial, and betrayal. You felt it all.
Trembling, you attempted to fight the tears as you continued to scroll; trying to retain everything before he finished his shower. Naoya spoke absolute filth in those texts, and you could barely believe it. There came the pictures of an attractive woman showing off her lingerie, thanking him for buying it for her. For as long as you were with Naoya, he had never bought you lingerie – he had never spoken to you so affectionately and lewdly compared to how he had spoken to the woman on his messages nor did he ever manage to finish you off, chasing after his release above all else. Your sex life was less than mundane, but you didn't try to make it a bigger issue for the overwhelmed Zen'in, so you relented – despite all this, you wanted to be understanding. However, you couldn't have been any more wrong.
To say you were flabbergasted was truly an understatement. For the past year that was spent talking about marriage and your future, your boyfriend had gone on week-long 'business trips' – to which you had later found out was a front so he could fuck his coworker.
"Ah, what the hell," you mumbled to yourself as you scrolled through his phone continuously, staring intensely at the screen. You then stumbled across a picture of Naoya, shirtless with a mischievous smirk. Almost immediately, you slapped your hand against your mouth; reading the messages in horror.
NAOYA: I'll come visit you tonight. You better be keeping that on by the time I arrive. I wanna take it off you myself. AIRI: You're getting me excited lol AIRI: Just come here quickly and fuck me already babe~
You genuinely wanted to throw up. You turned his phone off and placed it back on the coffee table; you had seen enough. Coincidentally, the sound of the shower running came to a halt and you could hear the faint sounds of your soon to be ex dressing up for a "drinking party with his male colleagues". What a fucking liar, he was. You leaned your back against the couch, trying to keep your focus on the television while you attempted to control the burst of emotions that were more than desperate to come out.
The sound of the door creaking brought you back to the present, and you snapped your gaze over to Naoya in his casual business attire. You couldn’t control the biting scoff that left your lips. He had the audacity to look at you, confused. "Babe? Is there something wrong with my outfit?"
Babe. Hearing that word roll of his mouth, smooth like honey, was the sheer equivalent of him rubbing salt on your open wound; knowing damn well that you weren't the only one he was seeing. You didn't know how long he hid this from you, and you were honestly afraid to know the answer. However deep down, you knew you needed to know. You reached your arm towards the remote, turning the television off. It was silent now. You returned your attention towards the male with a cold gaze.
"We need to talk," you said firmly, yet your voice was slow as you tried to maintain the stability within your emotions that were moments away from bursting out of your chest. The male rubbed the back of his neck, a dry chuckle leaving his lips; his sharp brown eyes averting from your intense glare.
"Can't we wait? I can't be late for the party. The guys are already waiting for me—"
"The guys, you say?" You interrupted Naoya, laughing bitterly as the beads of tears you had desperately tried so hard to control trailed down your cheeks. “Or, is it Airi?”
Oh, how you wished you could take a picture of Naoya’s face the exact moment his mistress’ name left your lips.
"What…?" Naoya’s voice had gone quiet, his eyes wide in both shock and horror. "W-What are you talking about?"
Even when caught, rather than admitting it – he still chose to act innocent. You shook your head in dismay, already feeling your composure crumble.
"There's no use playing stupid, Naoya. It only makes me feel even more embarrassed for you." You said solemnly, your eyes clouded with tears. You could barely make out the facial expressions he was making, but just hearing his desperate excuses just added more to the ache that was growing within your chest.
"We'll make this short and quick," you continued. "After all, your Airi is getting impatient waiting for you in the lingerie you bought her."
Naoya gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed down at you. "You looked at my phone while I was showering."
"Isn't that obvious?" you bit back, wiping your tears. "Anyway, how long were you and this woman seeing each other?"
You wanted to smack him until his cheeks turned red, but you held yourself back. "Answer me, Naoya."
His facade crumbled and if you thought you didn't recognize him enough, he effortlessly continued to prove you wrong. He looked down at you coldly, sneering at you. It stung, you had never seen him make such an expression.
"And how is this any of your business, hm?" He said, leaning down towards you with a cold glint in his gaze. "In any case, this should be your fault. You can't even satisfy me in bed! Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone out to seek out for another woman––"
Smack!
The loud sound of your palm making contact with his cheek resonated across the silent living room, the satisfying sting egging you on to slap him a second time. "You make me nauseous. You're surprisingly very audacious for someone who got caught red-handed, cheating.”
You pointed a finger at his chest, prodding harshly against his sternum. You didn't give him a moment to come down from the shock of you slapping the shit out of him. "Fucking answer me, Naoya. How long have you been seeing this woman?"
He mumbled his words, at first. They were barely coherent and you struck him a nasty glare. “What’s that again?”
"Two and a half years," the male grumbled out, holding onto his stinging cheek before mumbling softly. "Agh, fuck that hurts."
You could hear your heart shatter into a million pieces; you could no longer control the onslaught of tears that escaped your eyes.
"Even while we had talks about our future and discussed marriage?" You laughed bitterly through tears. You shook your head, crossing your arms together. You couldn't believe you wasted your time on this man. But then again, good fucking riddance; though the ache in your heart felt otherwise.
"That's all I wanted to know," you said, before turning your back to him.
"You... You're not even going to ask me why I did this?"
"No, there's no need to." You replied quietly. "I loved you and respected all your wishes even when you were too 'busy' to spend time with me. Regardless of whatever fucked up reason you had to cheat on me, I know well enough that it's not my fault."
Naoya stayed silent, but you could tell he was feeling frustrated.
"You're most likely going to keep fucking your coworker behind my back even after we get engaged or even married. So why not just end everything now?" You further added through your persistent tears and sniffles. "So, from now on, go ahead and do whatever. We’re done.”
There was a tinge of guilt present in his eyes, but you weren’t going to let it faze you. “Hey look, Y/N…”
You averted your gaze from his, and you can feel your lips beginning to tremble once again. He attempted to reach his arm up to you, but he paused and retracted when his phone resting atop the coffee table began to ring, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You both looked over to the phone, and a familiar name popped up on the screen. It was Airi. You pressed your lips together, blinking rapidly.
You already knew who he was going to end up choosing. It was a no-brainer.
You sighed and turned away, “Just go. You can get all your stuff and leave tomorrow morning.”
Making a beeline to your bedroom door and slamming it shut, you plopped down on the soft mattress and all emotions that you tried so desperately to contain had resurfaced; stuffing your face into a pillow, you wailed and wailed — succumbing to heartbreak.
Bitterness swelled in your chest when you heard your ex’s faint voice in the living room as he answered the call. “Yeah, I’m sorry babe. I’m heading straight over to you now.”
The door closed, and then came in the silence — however, not without the solemn echoes of your heartbreak. In the end, he didn’t choose you. After what felt like an eternity, your tears had finally dried up, but you stayed in the bed that was once shared between yourself and your now ex-lover. You needed to get your mind off things.
So there you were, clad in an oversized shirt as you walked down the empty streets of your neighborhood, strolling over to the nearest convenience store with your cold hands stuffed in the pockets of your sweatpants. Initially, you thought that walking outside could’ve helped with getting your mind off of things, however, it merely did the opposite; a string of curses leaving your lips in forms of mumbles with each moment that Zen'in crossed your mind.
You didn't realize how quickly fifteen minutes had passed until you stepped into the convenience store, immediately greeted with the cashier's voice laced in both fatigue and boredom. Scanning through the aisles of foods and other necessities, you mentally pondered on what you wanted to get. Bottles of beer, was definitely on the very top of your list. Oddly enough, you didn't have the appetite for anything else.
Purchasing the bottles came by quickly, and you immediately dipped out of the store and headed straight home, your worn out slippers continuously making contact with the concrete with each step you took. Your mind was relentless with attacking you with thoughts of Naoya and Airi, the woman he was seeing behind your back – and all you could think was that you wish you had caught him sooner, rather than trusting him with all your heart could muster and let him do whatever for 'work'. Biting your lips and blinking your eyes rapidly, you had desperately avoided letting out your tears once again; your face was already stained enough with your dried up tears.
As if the universe didn't prove to you enough that they weren't on your side, the skies above began to pour. It didn't even begin with a mere drizzle, not even close. Within seconds, your clothes were drenched and you tried to rush to the nearest shade – however, much to your dismay, there was none and the only solution was to run back home.
Your socks became soaked as well as your shirt, which was uncomfortably stuck to your skin, running through the dark neighborhood with your plastic bag filled with alcohol bottles used as a makeshift umbrella in hopes that it would shield you against the merciless attacks from the sky; yet, it all ended in vain when you tripped over a small crack in the concrete, your body immediately making contact with the cold and wet ground.
Fuck me backwards, that was the sole sentence that went through your mind as you fought back the frustrated tears that threatened to leave your eyes. You stayed on the ground, feeling defeated.
Then, there was a shadow casting above you and the rain stopped. You peered up through your weepy eyes, only for your attention to snap towards a familiar scar on the edge of a man's lips.
"You okay there, doll?" A sudden timbre echoed in your ears, and it was almost as if the rain had actually stopped.
"Does it look like I'm okay, Toji?" You said through trembling lips, feeling the waves of embarrassment washing over you as you stared back up at the tall male holding an umbrella over your head. “W-When did you get here?”
"Well, no. C'mere lemme help you up." Effortlessly, Toji hoisted you up back on your feet with a singular arm, and then his eyes traveled over to your hands. “I was driving by and saw you on the ground.”
"Are you having a house party with those drinks?" He questioned you, gesturing towards the dampened plastic bag filled with the bottles of alcohol.
"They're all for me." You replied in a joking tone, albeit it was the unadulterated truth. The raven-haired male caught on immediately, raising an eyebrow at your response.
“Trouble in paradise?” He asked you, his voice resonant as he looked at you with a curious gaze before his eyes widened in surprise. "O-Oh – are you crying?"
"No," you replied to the older man, though there was a waterfall of tears dripping down your cheeks. You spoke through persistent sniffles and shaky breaths, and at this point you weren't even sure if you were coherent for the older cousin to hear but you could honestly care less. "I c-caught Naoya... sniff... c-cheating on me… T-That little shit!"
"That dumbass..." Toji mumbled under his breath. "Let's bring you back home first. You’re drenched all over.”
He hurried you over to his car, and the musky scent of his car air freshener immediately struck your nostrils the moment you stepped into the passenger seat. There was something oddly comforting about it, though. Suddenly, he handed you a spare sweater sitting in the backseat, “Yer shirt’s drenched. Wear this to keep yourself warm.”
You had been so caught up in your emotions that you failed to realize the vibrant colour of your bra peeking through the drenched fabric. Bashful, you grabbed his sweater and thanked him profusely. He waved it off, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Slumping against the seat, you tried to ignore the musky scent of his cologne present in the thick fabric of his black sweater and you wanted to smack yourself profusely for letting your mind wander off too far, however you couldn't help but notice how large he actually is.
It wasn't often that you'd see Naoya's older cousin, as he would show up to family functions once in a blue moon. Though, at first you had found him intimidating as hell, you later found out you weren't all that wrong – making small talk with the older male here and there, much to your ex's dismay.
"Actually, Toji... I don't want to go home, yet." You admitted shortly after he handed you his sweater. "I don't want to come home and be paraded with reminders of that man."
Toji paused briefly before speaking, "So, you're saying that you want to stay over at my place tonight, doll?"
You could feel the blood rush to your face; a warm incarnadine imbued on the apples of your cheeks. You were surprised you hadn't paid much mind to it earlier, but there was something surprising arousing about his resonant voice; something about it tickled your brain the right way. You tried to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander too far, after all, you had just gotten out of a relationship with his cousin.
"I didn't mean it in that way! J-Just drop me off home, then!"
"Whatever you wish, doll." Toji grinned teasingly before starting the engine, driving up the neighborhood through the heavy rain. “Anyway, I don’t mean to be noisy but how did ya catch that idiot red-handed?”
“He left his phone unlocked on the coffee table while he was showering,” you sighed heavily, staring outside the window with a somber gaze. “I later found out after reading his messages with his coworker that they’ve been seeing each other for two years. Two years and a half, actually..”
“Good fuckin’ riddance on yer part. I’m surprised that this man could last three years in a relationship, of course he had to fuck up and pull that shit on ya.”
You stared outside the window, feeling the heartache steadily returning the closer the car got to your apartment. Eventually, the car came to a stop, parked across your humble abode.
"Thank you for the ride, Toji. And thanks for the sweater. I'll make sure to return it to you once I get it washed." You said softly, looking at the older man with gratitude. He nodded his head in response, "Anytime, doll. Hope ya feel better soon."
Rolling his windows back up and preparing to leave, you stopped him before thinking. He paused and looked back at you, rolling his windows back down; meeting your flustered gaze. "Forgot anything in the car?"
"Um," you said awkwardly, feeling the heat returning to your face. "Do you wanna drink with me at my place?"
The older man blinked for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, "I didn't know ya were this type of person after a breakup, doll."
"Tojiiii," you whined, embarrassed. "I just don't want to drink alone and drown in my own sorrows. I need someone to talk shit about your cousin with too, you perv."
"Hey, that's yer fault for wording it weirdly." Toji shrugged before turning off the engine and leaving his car. "Though, I can't say no since you asked me so nicely."
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," you said, your voice soft as you walked out of the washroom door, dampened towel in hand as you made your way to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to the older Zen’in, though you made sure you maintained a distance. “It didn't take too long, did I?”
You glanced over at the male endowed with borderline Herculean features, and his eyes quickly met yours. Undoubtedly, you felt shy. You invited him over on a whim, last minute decision.
"Mhm, ya were really quick." Toji replied, smirking at your flustered expression. "There's also no need to be so shy with me, doll. Just think of this as one of our many small talks, but with drinks this time."
You nodded your head shyly before you dug your hands into the plastic bag, bringing out two bottles of beer. Thank goodness they stayed intact after your ignominious fall.
"Give me the bottles," said Toji, "I'll open 'em up for ya."
He made a come hither motion with his large hand, signaling you to give him the beer. Without thinking, your eyes stayed glued on his rough, calloused hands – you shook your head, embarrassed. Complying to his words, you handed him the bottles and he brought each bottle out, one by one, and opened them with ease; each movement was effortless, and a mere reminder of his strength.
He handed you the beer, and you thanked him with a soft grin.
"Cheers," you both said before drinking from the glass bottle, and a sharp sigh immediately left your lips. You looked over to Toji, who drank that beer as if it was water. You found yourself getting dazed, almost amazed at how effortless this man made drinking alcohol appear.
"About that idiot, Naoya," Toji began, swirling his bottle slightly, "Am surprised that guy managed to stay in a relationship with ya for so long. That man's never been the type to settle down."
You sighed heavily before letting out a bitter chuckle, "I'm surprised too, and I had to find out the hard way. Plus, he's actually out right now fucking his mistress as we speak. Funny, right?"
You let out a small grumble, taking a large gulp of the beer; ignoring the stinging sensation hitting your throat when you swallowed. Toji leaned back against the sofa, his dark blue eyes staring down at you as he continued drinking the alcoholic beverage.
"How are ya holding up right now, doll? I know damn well that breakups are never easy, especially with that guy."
You shuffled in your seat, you could already feel yourself getting worked up at the mention of your ex.
"To be honest," you spoke slowly, "I'm not as torn as I thought I would. I think I already cried all of those sorrows away, but I'm still heartbroken and bitter. Really bitter."
"Bitter? Do tell me more."
You took another large gulp, letting out another sharp sigh. By then, you were already drinking your second glass – feeling the heat steadily increase in your face. You slammed down the bottle onto the coffee table, an irritated expression plastered across your face.
"This man… hic… had the nerve to say that it's my fault because I didn't satisfy him enough in bed! Says him! He only ever chases after his own orgasm whenever we did it and barely… hic… lets me finish? What the hell!"
Tears were now rolling down your face, surprising the older man. One second you were showing anger and fury, and the next second you were slumped down on the couch as you drowned in your sorrows and heartbreak.
"I-I'm... I was never close to being his priority. I also… hic… found out that he's been spoiling and treating his mistress far more better than I was ever treated in the past two years…hic! How can I be so stupidddd."
"Hey now," you could feel a warm hand patting your back with an unforeseen gentleness, "it's better now that you found out rather than later. You deserve so much better, so don't beat yourself up too much."
The older man's words brought you comfort that you didn't know you needed. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, downing on your second bottle of beer. You didn't realize through your drunken haze that he stiffened up at the sudden contact, but he didn't budge. You reached out for a third bottle, but he stopped you.
"Take it easy there, doll." Toji said. "Yer gonna have a hell of a hangover if you keep that up."
"Don't worry, I am," you said in a sing-song tone, though you still grabbed a hold of the beer bottle. "I'll make sure to drink slowly."
He massaged his forehead before chuckling, "Well you’re quite stubborn.”
You giggled softly through stifled breaths, “I-I can be sometimes… hic. Wanna help open this for me?”
He complied to your request, and opened the beer bottle once more with ease.
"I know it corny an' weird coming from an older guy like me, but believe me when I say that the end of a relationship does not equate to yer worth or that the world is going the end. So, don't beat yerself too hard, better things are about to come." He then paused before sighing. "Ugh fuck me, this is how ya know the alcohol's hitting."
"You don't need to pretend that it's the alcohol, Toji." You said, laughing. "You look more than sober. It even looks like you handle beer like how you drink a bottle of water."
"Anyway," you continued, glancing up at the man bashfully while you drank from the bottle; your throat had already grown accustomed to the stinging sensation of the alcohol, and you could feel your cheeks growing warmer the longer you allowed your mouth to ramble. "I didn't know you were capable of saying such sweet things, Mr. Toji."
He paused for a moment before sighing.
"It's nothing," replied the man as he swigged the bottle. He wiped his mouth with his arm, exhaling sharply.
"You must've… hic!… had many experiences… hic!… with romances, Toji." You said, taking a sip from the bottle despite the persistent hiccups that escaped your lips.
"What makes you say that?" Toji responded, raising an eyebrow.
"You look like the type to," you replied and Toji laughed. “I realized just now… hic!… that you’re… hic!… good company to have around.”
"Ya think so highly of me, doll."
You looked confused now, tilting your head to the side – looking at the sinewy man deep in thought (as far your alcohol would allow).
"Are you married? Seeing anyone, at all?"
"Divorced seven years ago, and nope."
"Ah..."
You both drank in unison, however your eyes stayed glued onto the older Zen’in. You felt yourself growing more sweaty despite having just gone out from the shower, your cheeks warm and your brain slowly yet surely getting even more fuzzy. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed, but the number of empty bottles resting atop the coffee table was enough for you to know that it had definitely been a few hours. Your eyes thoughtlessly wandered to his lips wrapped around the bottle; watching as his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp he took, a small bead of sweat rolling down his neck.
Without even realizing, rather than your beer, you swallowed your saliva.
“I’m gonna get us some water!” You suddenly stood up from the couch, the sounds of your feet pattering against the hardwood planks echoing throughout the flat and Toji’s eyes followed suit.
“Do you need help with anything?” You can hear his voice from behind you, though he stayed seated, comfortably, on the couch. You shook your head in response, playfully pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you move an inch, big guy. Your host will take care of everything… hic…!”
Turning around, you resumed to the kitchen with slight staggered movements. Reaching your hand out, you opened the fridge, letting the cool air hit your face that was engulfed with warmth. You sighed softly, feeling even more relaxed as you scanned the refrigerator. Grabbing the water pitcher, you set it aside on the counter and your gaze shifted to the tall cabinet. Unbeknownst to you, Toji’s eyes were glued to you – though, it was mostly to ensure your safety, but he couldn’t help but notice how your shirt rode up when you attempted to reach the cups; your face flushed and your eyes narrowed in concentration. Silently, he took another sip of his beer. He wanted to slap himself.
“Ya look like you’re struggling, doll.” Toji called out, and you replied with a firm no. You shook your head, though you were really struggling – especially with your lack of balance. With one hand cupping the side of your head, your other arm reaching out to the glass cups resting atop the shelves while you were on your tippy toes, you attempted to reach even further but your feet lost its strength. Just as you were about to brace yourself for impact, a large and warm hand caught you; his arm snaked around your waist and your chest pressed against his well-built chest, and your lips inches away from his.
You stared up at the man, surprised before blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks; further intensifying the warmth on your skin.
“Shouldn’t have let ya do all the work when yer balance is already shit,” Toji commented, and you could only watch, flustered, as he extended his other arm to the two cups with effortless movements. You were unsure if it was the alcohol or the flustered emotions rushing through your veins, however you could feel your heart battering against your chest crazily and your cheeks growing warmer. You were also unsure if he had noticed his hand, large and calloused, was underneath the soft fabric of your shirt; his warmth radiating onto your bare skin. As much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t against it one bit.
“You alright there, doll?” The timbre in his voice brought you back to reality, and you felt your cheeks growing warmer.
‘Fuck, get it together! You can’t be getting these thoughts freshly out of a breakup!’ You attempted to reason with yourself, but when you glanced over to Toji’s concerned gaze, you honestly believed you were going to melt. This wasn’t your first time talking to the older Zen’in, having spoken to him many times in family functions or simply after crossing paths, though they were no longer than small talk. This felt somewhat different, however it wasn’t in the way you disliked.
“I-I’m… hic… okay now,” you said shyly, averting your gaze from his. Toji pulled his hand away from your waist, extending his hand towards the water pitcher and filling up the two glasses. He handed you the glass, and you accepted the gesture. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he stared down at you as he drank from the cool water. You fidgeted underneath his gaze, your cheeks growing even more warmer.
“Are ya feelin’ better now?” Toji questioned you, raising an eyebrow. You nodded your head slowly as you sipped from your glass, “I feel a lot better now, actually.”
“You’re lookin’ like you’re about to burn up.” He then commented before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead in an unforeseen gentleness. “Just as I thought.”
Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it. “Let’s call it quits for tonight, doll. You should get some rest now..”
Unexpectedly, he ruffled your hair gently; his thick fingers brushing through your locks as you could only stare up at the man dumbfoundedly. You were just beginning to enjoy his company even more. As embarrassing as it would be to admit (when you’re sober), but it wouldn’t hurt to talk for even longer – even if it wasn’t about Naoya, anything would suffice.
“What about you?” You asked him, tilting your head. “Why can’t you spend the night here… hic!… and sober up?”
“No can do, doll.” Toji said, his timbre rubbing your brain in the most satisfying way possible. “Anything can happen since there’s alcohol in our system.”
You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, looking up at the older man who looked like he had just drank water rather than downing two bottles of beer. Absent-mindedly, you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and he appeared to be taken aback.
“B-But… you still shouldn’t drive around… hic!... drunk.” You persisted, but Toji shook his head with a light chuckle.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing but a little splash of cold water can fix.” He said before turning over to you, tapping on your forehead. “But you. You’re a bit too far gone.”
Your fingers immediately went to your forehead, covering the one area that the Toji had touched, your cheeks flushed a bright incarnadine. “Still,” you grumbled softly, glaring at the male, “you gotta wash your… hic!... face with cold water before you leave, no matter how sober you may appear.”
“Alright, alright.” Toji cackled, shrugging his shoulders. “You can even watch me, if it makes you feel any better.”
In came the following morning, and you were met with the sight of a familiar blond male with his suitcases in tow. You had just woken up from the couch to see your ex-boyfriend at least fulfilling his one promise, which was to leave your apartment with all his things. You rubbed your eyes, disgruntled at the persistent ache in your head. You didn’t have a moment to hark back to the previous night when all you could feel is your ex-boyfriend’s sharp gaze cutting through you.
Naoya’s sharp eyes scanned your surroundings, “Were you drinking last night?”
“Why are you asking me questions you know the answer to,” you grumbled out, stuffing your head into the comfort of your pillow. Naoya scoffed at your response, crossing his arms. “Well, you couldn’t have finished all those bottles yourself. Who were you drinking with? And whose sweater was in your room? Looks like it belongs to a man.”
“All of that is none of your business,” you snapped, your voice still muffled by your pillow. “Are you going to leave now, or what?”
“Tsk,” the blond male clicked his tongue at your sharp response, “are you now sleeping with another man out of spite? You’re no better than I am.”
This fucking man ––
Now you felt awake, and you shot up from the pillow — sending your ex a glare that would definitely kill if it could. “I’ll give you another slap on the cheek, ten times harder than yesterday since you’re begging so nicely for it.”
Naoya’s gaze narrowed, his lips forming into a sneer. However, he didn’t say anything. He knew damn well that he wouldn’t want to experience that slap again, or a harder one.
“And,” you continued, feeling yourself getting more heated the more you spoke, “you absolutely have zero room to talk about spite or being a better person. Remind me where you went off to last night, hm? While I was drowning myself in beer, what were you doing? Oh, that’s right! You were busy fucking your coworker, and even spent the night with her!”
The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. Just hearing him open his mouth was enough to give you a reason as to why you shouldn’t mourn so much over the loss of this relationship, despite having committed so much of your time and energy into it. Frustrated and beyond annoyed, you massaged your aching forehead with your fingertips.
“You clearly don’t feel sorry for anything that you did.” You spoke, your voice stern as a feeble attempt to mask your crumbling composure. “Even mustering an apology would suffice, yet you come in and have the audacity to accuse me of sleeping around?”
You paused for a moment, your gaze locked onto the Zen'in. Furrowing your brows, you sighed deeply and frowned. “What’s even worse is that you don’t look sorry.”
As much scorn you harbored for the male who cheated on you, there was undeniably a tinge of sorrow and ache that lingered within the depths of your chest upon making that crestfallen realization.
Pointing at the door, you didn’t leave your couch but you glared at your ex-boyfriend. “If there’s nothing else you want to say, you can go ahead and leave.”
And just like that, he wordlessly complied — walking out of the place he once called his home after three years, a place where he once promised he’d make many sweet memories with you; all that he left behind now was a poignant silence and another headache, other than that bothersome hangover, that you now had to deal with. Staring blankly at the door where your ex had exited from, you heaved an exasperated sigh.
In the end, Zen’in Naoya still couldn’t even muster a proper apology – not that you were going to forgive him, anyway. However, three years down the drain was still plenty to take in. But then again, breakups that end on bad terms were usually much easier to move on from, especially that cheater ––
Ping!
A brief noise coming from your cell phone brought you back to reality – cutting you off from your lamentable dwellings, and you snapped your gaze almost immediately to the source of the sound; your hand grasping onto the device, your eyes scanning the screen as you silently read the message.
TOJI: Recovered from the hangover yet?
You absentmindedly smiled towards your phone; your thumbs already working on a response.
YOU: barely ahaha YOU: what are you up to now?
TOJI is typing…
TOJI: Nothing much TOJI: Did Naoya come by and get his things already? YOU: yeah,, he actually woke me up to ask about the sweater and who i was drinking with before he left YOU: i didn’t mention you though, but he was being a total headache about it TOJI: Why not? It would’ve been funny if you did YOU: you wouldn’t want naoya to hop on your ass about it if i mentioned you
TOJI is typing…
TOJI: He wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on me anyway. That guy’s afraid of me YOU: you’re hilarious TOJI: Anyway TOJI: Thoughts on getting yakiniku tonight?
You didn’t realize it sooner, but over the course of days –– weeks, you eventually found yourself growing accustomed to the older male’s company; whether that be in the form of texting, or simply going out for drinks or barbeque –– Zen’in Toji was, without a doubt, clouding your mind. At this point, the thought of the misery your ex had brought upon you had dissipated. However, you wouldn’t deny that there was a wall that was evidently separating yourself from the Zen’in, a boundary that he, himself, had implemented. Oftentimes, it brought you back to an older conversation that you had with Toji; him telling you that he hadn’t truly been seeing anyone since his divorce, which was seven years ago. Even sometimes, you had gotten struck with the random spurts of realization that he was a decade or so older than you; his little nickname for you, every so often, served as a reminder. However, there were moments where you felt like you wanted to cross that line, and whenever you looked at Toji; his lips slightly agape, swallowing his spit as he stared down at you with that gaze –– you were certain that he was thinking of the same thing. This unspoken, yet increasing tension could be cut clean with a knife.
“Here. Get some meat and vegetables.” said Toji. With his chopsticks, he placed the freshly grilled meat and vegetables onto your plate. “What’s on yer mind, doll? Noticed you’ve been dazin’ off for quite some time.”
You shook your head immediately before thanking the older man profusely. “My goodness. I didn’t even realize they were moments away from burning. Thank you!”
Promptly, you threw the borderline broiling piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with tears slowly forming inside your eyes. “Wow, it’s s-so good. I love it.”
“Somethin’s on your mind after all,” Toji remarked, tilting his head off to the side while his midnight blue eyes gazed into yours. You gulped, swallowing the meat silently as you grabbed the glass of water and chugged it.
“I promise you, it’s nothing really important. It’s just work.” You responded, smiling cheekily as you reached for the grilled broccoli with your chopsticks. You didn’t think you’d have it within yourself to tell him that he was all that you were thinking about – you’d simply drown in embarrassment before you could even utter a word! While you were chewing, you swiftly reached for the meat on the grill and placed it onto Toji’s plate.
“It’s bigger meat,” you mentioned, “therefore, it’s all yours.”
“Oh? Look at ya bein’ all generous, doll.” he immediately teased you, raising his brows as his lips curled into an amused grin. “Ya weren’t like this the first time we went out for yakiniku.”
“Since when were you so observant?” You grumbled out, fighting the urge to roll your eyes jokingly.
“I’ve always been observant,” Toji said while he chewed on the meat, swallowing with a satisfied hum. “But yer facial expressions make it so much easier for me. You’re not that great at trying to hide yer thoughts, either.”
You paused, staring at the man with a flabbergasted expression plastered all across your face. “Ya just proved my point,” laughed Toji.
You closed your lips and pouted, taking another bite of the grilled meat – basking in the smoky flavor as you attempted to fight off the skittish emotions that were about to resurface. Though, you were unable to control the blood that rushed to the apples of your cheeks; heating up your face. “Clearly, what I did just now was on purpose.”
“Besides, what do you think goes on in my mind?” You questioned him, but as soon as those words slipped past your lips – you immediately wished you hadn’t. He sent you a teasing smirk, his eyes staring straight into yours as he uttered those words:
“I don’ think it’s the right time and place for me to say it here, doll. Ya might get a lil’ embarrassed if I lay them out for ya right now.”
Instantly, you could feel your face growing even warmer and you averted your gaze from his. “You’re bein’ mean right now, Toji.”
Then returned the insufferable tension. You fought the urge to squeeze your legs together, worried that the older man might catch on and you reached for another piece of meat and vegetable, chewing onto those two in tandem. Toji stared at you, amused; his head leaning against his hand as he played with the other pieces of food on the grill with the other.
“You’re awfully easy to get a reaction out of,” Toji further commented, chuckling. “It’s cute.”
“At this point, you’re just doing this on purpose!” You complained, blushing heavily at his teasing and he merely shrugged as a response.
Time passed by quickly, and you were spent; leaning against your chair with your hand resting atop your aching belly –– staring weakly at the older Zen’in who appeared to be in no way affected as he downed the remaining food on the grill. When he met your gaze, he bursted out laughing; cackling, even, at your state.
“C’mon doll, I think you can handle a lil’ more meat inside ya.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, or if you’re making an innuendo.” You murmured, your voice course. “But I’m not taking another bite. I’m sooo full.”
“Ya pervert, I am bein’ serious.” Toji retorted, taking the last bite of meat before he gulped down his glass of water.
While he briefly left the table to pay for the bill, you stayed seated on the chair, staring blankly at the clutter left behind on the wooden table.
The more you thought about it –– about him, you were left with a feeling of anticipation that you knew wouldn’t be fulfilled. You bit your lips softly, trying to fight back that massive frown that was threatening to appear; you were certain that Zen’in Toji, your ex’s older cousin and nearly more than decade older than you were, saw you no more than just an eating or drinking buddy, or a young woman who was left heartbroken by his cousin.
“Now, what’s with that long sigh?” A familiar timbre brought you back to reality, your eyes snapping over to his.
“It’s ‘cause of my stomach,” you replied, laughing it off before you stood up from your chair. You glanced outside and down at your watch, “How long were we out for?”
“Hours,” Toji simply responded and you rolled your eyes.
You both stepped out of the store, ready to leave until you felt the sensation of small beads of water falling onto your face –– mere seconds later, it began to pour heavy rain. Groaning in pure unadulterated dismay, you both rushed to his car which was across the street; using your arms as means to shield you from the pouring water.
“I didn’t expect it to rain today, especially like this.” You observed, brushing your fingers through your dampened locks. Toji sighed in response, “To be honest, doll, I dun’ think I could drive you straight home in this weather. I jus’ checked my phone and it said that there’s a bad thunderstorm that’ll last all night and there’s also a chance of a small flood happening.”
“Ah, that’s alright.” You said. “So, what’s the plan now?”
“There’s an inn nearby and we can spend the night there, if that’s fine with ya.” Replied the Zen’in.
Your face flushed at his suggestion, and Toji immediately took note of it.
“Don’t worry doll, I’ll sleep on the floor or couch – if there’s one.” Toji reassured you, and you could only nod your head –– completely and utterly dumbfounded with the series of lewd thoughts that began to cloud your mind. You and him. Together. Alone. You wanted to smack yourself. Genuinely.
You shuffled in your seat, feeling the heat in your face and between your legs worsen. You tried to distract yourself, silently immersing yourself with the music that was playing on the radio. Then the car came to a halt, and you stared outside the window. It was an average looking inn, nothing too special. Upon finding parking, you both hurried over to the entrance; rushing over to the receptionist.
“Room 261 is on the second floor, to your left. Please enjoy the rest of the night, you two.”
The moment you found the designated room number and opened the door, you both stood there flabbergasted. The room was decorated in hearts and flowers — even the bed was large and heart-shaped, and on the nightstand, there rested a fuzzy pair of handcuffs, condoms, and bottles of lube. Instinctively, you touched your cheeks with the backside of your hand. Yep, your face is definitely hot.
Toji covered his face with the palm of his hand, heaving an exasperated sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry, I should’ve known it was a love hotel.”
“Don’t worry,” you laughed it off, “they were being really discreet about it, so I’m surprised. When you look at the exterior, anyone who never went there would’ve also thought it’s a normal inn — totally not a love hotel.”
The moment you both locked gazes, you bursted out laughing.
“I-I’m sorry,” you giggled, “the fact that we actually got into a love hotel is crazy. Damn.”
“Just our luck,” Toji chuckled. “Oh, fortunately there’s a couch over there. The bed’s all yours, doll.”
Plopping down on the bed, you released a relieved sigh. “It’s so comfortable here, Toji. You should try it out, too.”
He slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, and a look of surprise was plastered across his face. “You’re right.”
The bed was large enough to fit the both of you, you pondered to yourself. Your eyes wandered to Toji’s large and sinewy frame, his back facing you as he fumbled with his car keys — his large, calloused fingers tracing along the metal ridges. Undeniably, his fingers were large — thick and long, even. For a brief moment, it almost made you wonder, in your uncouth curiosity, what it would be like to have his hands wander farther…
No. Stop it right there.
‘You horny, horny woman,’ you scolded yourself, mentally smacking your head as you attempted to hide the blush that was moments away from resurfacing. Briefly, you averted your gaze from the older Zen’in, trying to look anywhere but him — it was hard though, especially when this man was quite the eye candy. There was simply no way he didn’t not go out with other women.
The insufferable tension lingering in the air was another thing you couldn’t ignore, it had been like this for weeks already; naughty thoughts and reveries involving the male came to you nearly every night and as much you tried to ignore it, you still noticed the way he licked the icing off his lips after taking a bite from a dessert, the veins adorning his large hand as he gripped onto the steering wheel, or how his eyes would flicker between meeting your gaze or your lips.
This was driving you insane. Terribly insane.
You could feel the weight of the bed lighten, and you turn your head to see Toji standing up from the edge of the bed, making large strides to the couch. Without ever turning his head to face you, he began to speak; his voice had gotten an octave lower, it caught you off guard.
“There ya go again, doll. Are ya even aware of the expressions you’re makin’?”
“Huh?” You stared at him, dumbfoundedly. “What expressions?”
“Do I really have to say it?” Toji questioned, turning his head slightly to the side and tilted. Your eyes wandered to his lips, glued onto the small scar as he spoke. “I’ll sound a lil’ bawdy, but…”
He pointed a finger towards you.
“You’re lookin’ at me like you’re beggin’ to be fucked,” the man stated, his navy blue eyes meeting your flustered ones.
You tensed at his words, feeling a surge of heat overcoming you – his words paired with the timbre in his voice causing a stir within the depths of your abdomen. The atmosphere had changed, the tension was so unbearably thick; you could sense that his composure was also beginning to fall apart.
“W-What?” You could barely manage to squeak out the words, but the older Zen’in’s gaze didn’t falter. You were, undeniably, aroused – for god knows how long.
“I’m a pretty observant person,” Toji said, his deep and baritone voice ringing in your ears. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way ya looked at me earlier, and even the weeks before. Even now, you’re aroused. Am I wrong, doll?”
Your breathing had gotten heavier, hitching even. Was Toji that good at reading you, or were you being plain obvious? You didn’t know, nor did you care too much. Either way, whatever he said – he was correct. You were simply too embarrassed to admit it; you bit onto your lip, unable to come up with a response.
“You gotta speak with yer words, doll.”
You swallowed your spit, gulping softly. “I… You…”
The way you wanted to dig yourself a hole and shrivel yourself up into a ball. God, this was so embarrassing.
“I… You…?” The man repeated after you, amusement plastered across his face. You opened your mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.
“Ugh,” you groaned out, feeling the steams of pure and unadulterated embarrassment leaving your ears. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. You’re all I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”
You slapped your hands on your face, covering the roseate warmth that seemed to merely worsen as those words left your lips. Upon setting your pride aside, you had finally admitted the embarrassing truth. But, what would come after that? Would he be weirded out and distance himself from you? You averted your gaze from his, you didn’t have it within you to meet his eyes. As aroused as you were, you were also incredibly embarrassed – and even that was an understatement.
You felt his finger tracing your chin, lifting your face to meet his. You didn’t realize he had already made his way back to you, his Herculean build leaning close to yours yet there was, undeniably, an invisible wall that separated the both of you.
“I tried to think nothin’ of it at first, but…” Toji began, stalling his words a little.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you told me earlier,” Toji said, his voice low in a murmur; his gaze yet again flickering between your eyes and your lips. You gulped softly, your breath hitching in anticipation. “About Naoya not pleasin’ ya enough in bed. It seems to me you’re feelin’ all pent up now.”
He shot you a teasing grin, “Am I right about that too, doll?”
Your eyes widened, looking at the man in front of you in shock; your mouth agape and your cheeks flushed. “You…” You attempted to come up with a retort, but all the words that threatened to leave your lips had come to a halt when he raised a brow towards you, his midnight blue gaze looking down at yours.
“Judging by yer reaction, I’m guessin’ I’m right.”
“Yeah?” You riposted, biting your cheek. “So what about it? If you’re just saying this to make fun of me, then you can just quit… it.”
Your eyes trailed down, your words slowing down to a halt as you caught sight of the large tent growing at the center of his trousers. It’s big.
“I wouldn’t be sayin’ all this if I only intended to tease ya,” Toji replied, his voice slightly hoarse as he briefly followed your gaze. “But I’m glad it’s confirmed that we see eye to eye.”
“Eye to eye? Does that mean…” Your eyes stayed glued onto his bulge, and Toji turned his head away; a bright roseate blush tinting the tips of his ears.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s exactly what ya think it is, Y/N. It’s ya fault for being so fuckin’ cute.”
You stared back to his face, a look of wanton adorning across your face as you eyed his lips. Licking your lips, you gathered all the remaining courage you had –– cupping the older man’s face in your hands and bringing him into a soft and brief kiss, your lips locking for a few seconds before pulling away.
“I-I didn’t think you’d be seeing me in this type of light, either––” your words were abruptly put to a halt when he locked lips with yours once more, this time with plenty more fervor; his large hand cupping the back of your head to pull you closer, if it was even possible. Tongues, forthwith, were intertwined as you followed the male’s lead; his well-rehearsed movements harbored from the years of experience you forgot he had. His lips were on yours, yet you felt as if your whole entire body was burning up.
Your fingers traveled to his clothed chest, gripping onto the fabric tightly as you struggled to keep up with his movements. Without ever pulling away, he leaned closer; his weight slowly pushing your body down onto the mattress, a soft sigh leaving your lips the moment your back made contact with the comforts of the mattress.
The wet sounds of your lips interlocking echoed throughout the room, along with the soft noises of your whimpers and moans escaping your lips as Toji’s hands wandered; leaving every curve of your body untouched, and the tip of his fingers snaking underneath the hem of your jeans. You wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, your fingers dancing through his raven locks. You barely remembered the last time you had a kiss this passionate.
Eventually, you both pulled away; revealing a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips together and anything else that escaped your lips were harbored breaths. You kissed him. And it felt so good. Pressing your fingers to your lips, your eyes traveled over to Toji’s –– it was evident that his self restraint was merely hanging on by a thin thread. You bit your lips at the thought.
“You’re makin’ it so hard for me to hold myself back,” hissed Toji, wincing slightly at the discomfort within his trousers.
“You don’t need to,” you replied, your voice was quiet yet it was dripping with arousal. “I don’t want you to.”
Toji raised a brow at your words, but he couldn’t deny – those exact words did cause some sort of damage. “Ya sure, doll? I don’ think I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”
You sat back up from the bed, your hand caressing his cheek; your finger tracing the small scar ingrained in the corner of his swollen lips.
“Well, I don’t want you to stop either.” You murmured, your voice soft and you shifted your gaze to the tightened area of his trousers. “I can help with that, too.”
Taciturnly, you brought your palm to his lap, giving his enlarged bulge a soft squeeze; immediately eliciting a soft groan from Toji as a response to your sudden and bold movements.
“Y/N,” he muttered your name, though it sounded more of a warning than anything. You squeezed it once more, shooting the male a playful smile; your fingers playing around with the small metallic zipper before you slowly zipped it down.
“Can I?” You questioned him. It was clear you were ogling his bulge beneath, excited to explore for more; your eyes were wide in lewd curiosity, barely able to control the arousal and desperation within your movements. Toji found all of that, somewhat, endearing.
“Do whatever ya want, doll.” He huffed out. “But ya also got to give me somethin’ nice to look at and play with.”
His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before they snaked underneath the fabric; the sensations of his rough and calloused fingers touching your bare skin – his blunt nails grazing your waist. You raised your arms up, and with effortless movements, he slipped the fabric off you. For a brief moment, you considered hiding yourself – a wave of shyness suddenly overtaking you, but all that stopped when you felt his fingers, once again, grazing your bare skin; slowly tracing over the cups of your bra.
Your breath hitched, and a surge of heat rushed to your face. This was it. You were going to have sex with Zen’in Toji. However, undeniably, you felt like a virgin around the older male. His fingers lingered across your back, unclasping the undergarment with ease; he watched, with amused eyes, as it fell from your breasts –– revealing your soft mounds. Unawarely, your arms rushed to cover your breasts – but his strong hands held them back.
“Don’t ever think about covering ya self, doll.” Toji said, his large hands grasping tightly around your wrists. “I love the view I’m seein’ right now, so don’t be shy to show me everything.”
You tried to suppress any noise that threatened to leave your lips, biting onto the skin; your body writhing underneath the man’s soft, yet teasing strokes on your breasts, most particularly your nipples. You leaned closer into his touch, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as his fingers teased the erect buds — twirling, pinching and pulling; your mind was going blank to his teasing ministrations.
“You have such pretty breasts,” Toji commented, pinching your nipples with his index and pointer fingers before he began to twirl the bud. You bit onto your lip even harder this time; your legs squeezed tightly together as you attempted to satiate your arousal in silence.
“T-Toji,” you stammered out, “I’m s’pposed to be the one pleasing you first.”
“I can wait,” he grinned, licking a small stripe of saliva across your breast. “I needa show these girls some love first.”
You couldn’t even utter a response, all that came out were stifled moans and whimpers — your hand clasped against your mouth while your other was nestled in his raven locks. Zen’in Toji was, indeed, showing them love. Lots of love. The insufferable ache building up between your legs seemed to merely worsen, not even squeezing them together was enough to satiate it. You were far too aroused — melting immediately at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensations.
Toji’s eyes never left your face; analyzing every micro reaction your face made, every single move he made felt as though it was rehearsed — a well one, in fact; effortlessly finding the spots that elicited the most delicious reactions out of you with both his tongue and hands. He cupped your breast and gave the mound a squeeze, and he eventually pulled his mouth away from your nipple; leaving behind a thin string of saliva that connected his lips and your skin. If you were standing, your knees would’ve already buckled on the spot.
Breathing heavily, you softly pushed the older male away from your body. “It’s your turn.”
You slowly lowered yourself, your hands tracing down his shoulders, his chest and then to his abdomen; your nimble fingers unbuttoning, thus unzipping his trousers. You didn’t realize you were holding in your breath, while trying your darndest to control your heart that was hammering rapidly against your chest.
“Breathe, doll.” Toji’s baritone voice wasn’t much help, but you breathed in — then you heaved a shaky sigh. Gulping, you took in the sight of the sheer size of his shaft hiding beneath the thin fabric.
By the time your hands reached his boxers, your fingers snaking underneath the hem of his underwear; you pulled the fabric down, slipping it down his muscular thighs — you were unsure if you were being obvious, but you attempted to stop your mouth from watering.
“It’s big,” you thought aloud, slapping your mouth immediately after. Toji chuckled deeply.
“For a woman who’s mostly shy, ya certainly have no filter.” Toji teased, lightly slapping his hardened cock against your cheek. “How cute. Do ya think you’ll be able to take it in ya mouth, doll?”
You flushed a bright incarnadine at his words, “Were you always this crude?”
Wrapping your hand around his girthy shaft, you gulped softly as you slowly stroked his member; up and down, up and down –– your eyes were locked onto his face, taking in every micro-expressions that the older Zen’in was making, though it was evident that he was trying to suppress them; he was biting his lips, though he still had that sexy grin plastered across his face. For the longest time, you weren’t aware that Zen’in Toji had this obnoxiously lewd side of him, and you also didn’t know that you could be so fucking aroused because of it.
‘Will he fit inside me?’ You asked yourself, nearing your lips closer to his cock. You licked a long stripe across his cock, circling the soft muscle around his tip before sucking on it. Toji immediately reached his strong hand to your locks, giving them a soft tug.
“Fuck,” he hissed softly, “I almost forgot how good this feels. You’re so fuckin’ good with your mouth, doll.”
Breathing through your nose, you slowly took him inside your mouth; feeling the small beads of tears building up the lower you went down on him, your nose pressed against his pubes. It was difficult to breathe — he was just too fucking big! However, the loud groan of your name leaving his lips was more than enough as motivation to keep going; circling your hand around the area your mouth couldn’t reach, and you stroked his cock in languid movements.
Each noise — grunts, hitched breaths, or groans — that escaped his lips, you could feel yourself growing even wetter; a puddle of arousal dampening your underwear. You continued to bop your head onto his cock, drool dripping down your cheeks as you attempted to take him deeper. You knew you shouldn’t have pushed yourself too much — you could barely remember the last time you’d done something this lewd, but you couldn’t help yourself. When there was Zen’in Toji in front of you, feeding your hungry mouth with his fat cock, there was simply no way you’d say no.
The obscene noises of your mouth showing love towards his cock echoed throughout the room; your soft gagging, whimpers, and the slobberish noise your mouth made each time you bobbed your head lower made it nearly impossible for the older man to not buck his hips into your poor lips. The turbulent rainstorm showering outside had long drowned out — the sole sound of Toji’s little grunts and groans lingered in your head; hungry to please him even more.
“Atta fuckin’ girl,” Toji grunted, his hands traveling to your breasts to give your nipples a tight pinch. You clenched your eyes shut, whimpering softly with his cock deep inside your throat; writhing underneath his touches, every graze of his fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink of insanity. You squeezed your legs together tightly, bucking your hips slightly as you continued to please him. “You’re pleasin’ me so well, doll.”
“Ah—mmph…!” You let out a surprised moan, snapping your eyes open to stare at the raven-haired male as he pulled and twirled the erect bud between his rough fingers. Your grip tightened around his hips, and upon pulling away from his shaft, you gave the tip a good suck — grinning at yourself when you felt Toji’s body twitch at your manipulation; his breath hitching at the shocks of pleasure rushing through his veins as his fingers’ squeezed onto your mound. A line of praises escaped his lips in the form of grunts and mutters, his hand cupping your cheek; his thumb softly stroking the tears away.
“Do ya even realize how arousing ya look right now?” Toji’s deep baritone voice rang in your ears as he bucked his hips into your face. He threw his head back, a mix of a hoarse chuckle and grunt leaving his lips. “You’re doin’ so good, doll. Keep on goin’.”
Continuing on with your ministrations, you used both your hands to stroke his dick while you pressed your lips against his tip; bobbing your head down his tip while your hands made twisting motions as you fondled with his girth. You glanced up towards Toji, awaiting some sort of praise –– and he wasted no time; the thrusts of his hips had begun to stagger and a loud groan of your name escaped his lips, coating the insides of your mouth with thick ribbons of white. Pulling away from his length, your eyes returned its focus to the older Zen’in; locking eyes with his as you swallowed his cum, feeling the warm liquid trickle down your throat.
Heavy breaths echoed through the room, Toji’s soft pants mirroring yours; his eyes gazed into yours wantonly and his fingers cupping your chin briefly before he leaned back in for a third kiss. Locking lips and tongues intertwined, he lifted the shirt off his body with ease; revealing his chiseled build. Panting in between kisses, your fingers trailed down his neck – traveling down his chest, and back up to his raven locks.
His hand trailed lower to your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping effortlessly as he pulled the denim past your ass; his thick fingers grazing against your cheeks, slowly snaking underneath the thin fabric of your panties — shivering, you rocked your hips into his hand when he slid a finger across your slick folds. His breath hitched a little, pulling his lips away from yours.
“I didn’t even put a finger yet, but yer drenchin’ it already.” He commented, and you could only watch — in both embarrassment and unadulterated arousal — as he licked your juices off his fingertip.
His hands returned to the denim fabric hanging on to your thighs, pulling them down along with the thin fabric of your underwear. Without uttering another word, he brought his hand between your thighs — spreading them open. Midnight blue eyes locked onto your bare cunt, his mouth nearly salivating at the sight of your arousal dripping down your hole. Glancing down, he was, once again, fully erect.
Extending your arm to his shaft, Toji had stopped you — though, not with words, but with the abrupt movements of his arms hooking around your thighs; pulling your hips closer to his face.
“W-Wait––A-Ah!” The moment you felt his tongue prodding at your folds, your eyes rolled back and a sharp moan escaped your lips; your fingers immediately finding solace in his messy, black hair. Toji didn’t seem to listen, however. His tongue slid up and down your folds before pressing his lips against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking harshly whilst flicking his tongue against it.
“Oh my––fuck! Toji!” You mewled out, arching your back and you could feel yourself convulse as he continued to suck and lick messily at your cunt. “T-There’s no way you didn’t sleep with anyone after your divorce,” you stuttered in between moans, “you –– mmph! Hah – y-you have to be lying! You eat pussy too good – AH!”
The older man grunted against your folds, his canines gently grazing your swollen clit. You writhed, your hips twitching in response.
“What are you on, doll? I never lied to ya. Not one bit.” Toji replied, his voice muffled while he continued to stuff your face into your juicy cunt. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt this typa pleasure.”
With his tongue, he licked another long strip across your drenched folds – humming in delight; the timbre of his voice sending vibrations onto your sensitive clit. You bit onto your lip, staring at Toji in lewd desperation while you bucked your hips against his face. The pleasure you felt was surreal; nothing you had ever felt before. It was addicting. You could feel the pressure pitting in your stomach growing warmer – heavier, more insufferable.
“I-I’m close,” you warned, digging your nails into his scalp and he let out a soft grunt, eating your pussy with plenty more fervor.
“Don’ come yet,” Toji said, “hold on for lil’ more longer for me, doll.”
You gulped, nodding at his request. Closing your eyes shut tightly, you tried your darndest to not succumb to the pleasure that was washing over you like strong, persistent waves. Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come! Your toes curled, your eyes opening wide in surprise when you felt his two fingers, without any effort, slide into your drenched pussy –– his fingers stretching you out so deliciously; your walls clamped down onto his thick fingers that were knuckles deep inside your cunt.
“Don’t come,” Toji warned you, and you could only stare at him with your heavy-lidded gaze –– too fucked out to care. You rocked your hips against his large hand, a string of incoherent moans and praises escaping your lips each time he fucked his fingers into you; his movements were fast and profound, eliciting such wet and lewd noises from your drenched hole.
“Hm–– T-Toji,” you mewled loudly, throwing your head back against the plush of the pillows; your hands –– one gripping tightly against the wrinkled fabrics of the duvet cover, and the other tangled in the strands of Toji’s mane. “Ahn! P-Please let me come. You’re making me feel so… good..!”
Toes curling, another moan ripped out from your throat, your hips convulsing as he brought his mouth down to your swollen bud –– flicking circles and wrapping his lips around your clit repeatedly, all whilst fucking your pussy with his fingers as if he would with his dick (in your imaginations); curling his fingers, a loud whimper fell from your lips, your hips rocking desperately against his hand as his fingertips would kiss your sweet spot.
“P-Pl-Please,” you could only murmur out, your whole entire body overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You could feel your eyes rolling back, your whole entire body writhing as he continued on with his ministrations – his fingers fucking you so well, hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy. His precise, yet profound movements were making your mind melt, along with the rest of your body. You could barely recount a memory where you came due to someone’s manipulation, often having to cater to your own needs to satiate the need for pleasure. However, now that you were experiencing it now; it was as if shocks of electricity were pulsing throughout your body –– your whole body growing sensitive, yet wanting more.
The mixed sounds of his tongue sloppily making love with your clit paired with the wet noises of his fingers fucking into your hole, along with your mewls and the male’s sexy grunts filled the room. The persistent pressure growing in the pits of your lower abdomen was growing all the more unbearable, a new, foreign feeling began bubbling the more you tried to stop yourself from coming on the spot. It was getting even harder to hold it in now, you swore you could feel yourself burst.
“Fuck, doll.” Toji said, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy clenching tightly around his two fingers curled inside you, watching your juices trickle down your hole. “Look at me when you come, ‘kay? Look at the man that’s gonna make ya come hard.”
You were completely under his submission, your eyes – though heavy-lidded – locked onto his midnight blue eyes; giving him a pleading look. He stared up at you, his lips locked around your clit and his fingers mercilessly doing their work on you. This sensation was something that you had never felt before – panicked, your fingers grasped onto his locks in a vain attempt to pull him away.
“T-Toji!” You whimpered his name, urgency evident in your voice. “I think I-I’m gonna pee!”
“Let it go,” Toji hummed, both his mouth and fingers continuing to pleasure you – edging you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Come for me, doll.”
And so you did, a loud cry of his name rolling off your tongue as your back arched; toes curled and your hips convulsing against his face —the warm juices spraying on his face and his hands, drenching his skin. A hitched groan escaped his lips, and he rubbed your clit with the palm of his hand; eliciting more of your juices to coat his hand while you twitched beneath his touches, strained moans leaving your lips as you rode out your orgasm.
“Hah,” you heaved a breathy sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling for a brief moment before you finally noticed the puddle you left behind after your release, evidenced by the dampened sheets underneath you. Blood rushed to your cheeks, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothin’ to be embarrassed of, doll.” Toji grinned, the gentle grazes of his fingertips lingering onto your soaked thighs. “If anything, it’s fuckin’ hot. Was it your first time squirtin’ like that?”
You nodded your head, suddenly feeling shy once more. “Mhm. I can’t remember a time when I came this hard — let alone came from someone’s touch.”
“Damn,” Toji said, biting back a haughty grin. “Didn’t expect Naoya to be that much of a disappointment. But then again, it’s not too big of a surprise.”
“I’ll make ya feel much better,” he added, a smirk adorning his face while his arm extended to the nightstand — reaching for the packet of rubber, but you stopped him; your hands cupping his face as you made the man face you.
“You don’t need to use it,” you said softly, your voice soft as you could feel the blood rushing back to your face. You glanced down at his cock, your mouth nearly salivating as you watched the girth jerked slightly in the air; a small amount of his pre-cum trickling out. You were right, this man was indeed an eye candy –– the most delicious one, in fact. “I’m on the pill.”
He stroked his fat cock languidly, his lustful eyes locking onto yours. “You sure about that doll?”
You nodded your head rapidly, it was almost foolish how excited you appeared — however, you were too horny to care. You needed this man inside you, desperately. Hooking your arms underneath your knees, you spread your legs apart for the older man to see — and he was instantly hooked; a hitched breath escaping his lips as he locked his gaze onto your drenched and needy hole — and your face too, looking so fucking lewd; the wanton look in your eyes begging him to fuck. A hoarse grunt escaped his lips, enamored at the heavenly sight.
“Fuck me, Toji.” Pure arousal was laced in your voice as you uttered those words, your tone almost pleading.
Just how could he ever say no to that?
A sharp gasp left your lips when he pulled your legs closer to his hips, his large palms pushing your thighs back as he aligned his cock with your needy heat. You glanced down, lips quivering in anticipation as you watched him further prep you for his girth. He rubbed his thumb across your folds briefly, a low chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re still soakin’ wet, doll. I doubt we’d even need lube at this point.”
He inserted a finger briefly before pulling away, laughing at how your body immediately twitched at his touch.
“You gotta relax for me, ‘kay?” Toji adjured, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaking entrance before slowly entering. Your arms immediately reached out, your hands finding solace around his chiseled back; your nails slightly digging into his skin, your body reeling at the stretch. He was too fucking big, and he only inserted the tip! The feeling of being filled up to the brim was incomparable to your fingers — you were going to melt.
“Relax, doll.” repeated Toji, his voice strained. “You’re suckin’ me in.”
He nestled his face into your neck, peppering kisses and little suckles; thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. Small beads of sweat trickled down his neck as he reached halfway deep inside you, relishing in the way your walls clamped down onto his girth so tightly.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, closing his eyes shut as he reached the hilt – the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix. A shaky whimper left your lips, your arms wrapping tightly around the older Zen’in’s neck.
“You good?” He asked you, his face hovering yours. You nodded, pressing a small kiss on the corner of his lips as you softly rocked your hips against his — a small moan ripping from your throat when his cock grazed your sweet spot as he pulled away slightly, leaving just the tip inside before he slammed his hips back into yours; evoking a loud scream that ripped from your throat, your walls squeezing him like a vice as you trembled underneath his body.
“Shit, doll.” Toji cursed under his breath, a coarse chuckle shortly leaving his lips. “Cumming, already?”
His calloused fingers traced over your hips, thus gripping onto your waist; his nails dug into your skin – his resolve crumbling by the second.
“You can take another one, right doll? For me?” Toji questioned you, raising a brow towards you; watching you attempt to utter a response, but merely trembling as a result when he began moving his hips once more; relishing in the way your body reacted to his –– your hips trembling underneath his, your velvety walls clamping down on him – all whilst giving him a pleading look; your cheeks flushed and your eyes blown in lust.
He chuckled, licking his lips. “Do ya even realize how lewd ya look right now?”
He thrusted his hips roughly into yours, his fat cock sliding in and out of your soaked walls in ease. You stuffed your face into his shoulder, biting onto his collarbone to stifle the myriads of moans that threatened to leave your trembling lips.
“Your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight,” Toji said, purring as he rocked his hips into yours. “Like the way I’m stretchin’ your little hole out, doll?”
“O-Oh my god,” you whimpered into his neck, your nails digging into his skin; your voice jumpy from each rough thrust Toji made as he pistoned his cock in and out of your cunt; squeezing him back in each time. Each thrust he made, your body bounced along with it -– sliding onto the mattress; he made it his mission to fuck you silly. Jaws slacked and erotic groans escaping his lips, his nails digging into your hips as he continued on with his relentless pace; relishing in the way your body meld into his, your mouth agape as all the words that left your words would be incoherent. It was all so arousing, fucking you into an incoherent mess whilst you begged him for more.
You closed your eyes for a mere moment, reveling in the delightful pleasure — but with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting that spot so deliciously, you shot your eyes wide open with a sharp gasp. Toji’s hand cupped your cheek before squeezing them, his dark eyes staring down at yours with a look of warning.
“Hey, doll — open yer eyes, and don’t ya fuckin’ dare look away. Look at the man who’s fuckin’ you good, yeah?” He warned, nearing his face to yours –– your lips merely inches apart. The husky, strained timbre in his voice sent waves of arousal throughout your whole entire body. Nodding your head eagerly, you could hardly utter a response, any noise that managed to escape your throat were in the forms of moans and incoherent praises.
Your mind was going blank, overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You were, quite literally, on cloud nine. The pleasure you felt was simply incomparable, and you could only feel yourself drown in it. Rolling your eyes back, another breathy moan escaped your lips; your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. The pit broiling in your stomach returned, and you could feel it building back up rapidly.
“Mm—Fuck! I-I’m…” You tried to say in between moans, your body jumping up in tandem to the man’s powerful thrusts. “T-Toji… Ngh! I’m so close — you’re fucking me so good… Ah!”
Your voice alone was nearly enough to get the man to cum, but he relented. He bit his lips and clenched his jaw, reveling in the ecstatic sensations.
“Fuck, doll.” Toji mumbled out a curse, clenching his jaw. He dug his nails deeper into your waist, taking it all within him to not cum right then and there –– especially when your pussy was squeezing him so nicely. A strained moan escaped your lips, riding out your orgasm; your arms pulling the man close. Just as when you had thought you could have a moment to recover, his strong arms had lifted you up from the bed –– manhandling you, and you shortly found yourself on your knees; bent over with your ass high up in the air.
Smack!
Moaning, your body jumped at the stinging sensation of his palm making contact with your ass, feeling the heat radiate across the skin. Though, within seconds, your body melted to his touch; his strong hands caressing and squeezing your derrière, eliciting a soft hum that left your lips ––
“O-Oh!” You pressed your lips together, your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head when he thrusted his cock back in – drenched in all your juices as he effortlessly slid back in; reaching the hilt, his tip brushing against your cervix as he rocked his hips back and forth; his cock grazing your sweet spot with each thrust he fucked into you. Stuffing your head in the comforts of the pillow, you were getting even more sensitive to his touches; every caress from his fingertips sent shocks of pleasure throughout your whole entire body.
Stifled moans escaped your lips, drool trickling down your lips as you gave in to pleasure; inching closer and closer to your release each time he rocked his hips against yours in an unforgiving pace. It was almost as if he was fucking you to impregnate you –– his brawny arms wrapped tightly around your waist; pulling you away from his cock before he pulled you back down, stretching your walls in the most delicious way. The many months spent feeling so sexually frustrated had melted away in this instant; the bed squeaked beneath your bodies, his thrusts relentless as he led you closer and closer to nirvana.
“Ah, shit. You feel so fuckin’ good, doll” You could hear Toji’s grunts from behind you. “Hah, this pussy’s all for me, yeah? Hah—Mm…”
“Mmm… Fuck, yes! ‘S all for you, Toji — Ah!” You replied through stifled moans, your voice muffled by the pillow pressed against your face. “Y-You’re fucking me so deep…!”
“Atta girl,” Toji hummed and despite being unable to see him in that moment, you knew very well that he had a smug smirk tugged at the corners of his lips while he continued to fuck you.
You lifted your head slightly from the pillow, turning your face slightly towards Toji — a look of concentration was plastered across his face; beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck, strands of his hair stuck onto his forehead, his teeth gritted against one another. Fuck, he was too sexy. Loud mewls left your mouth, thrusting your hips into his cock as you desperately chased after your release.
“K-Kiss me, Toji.” You said, your voice pleading. An abrupt moan escaped your lips shortly after, followed with a small whine when you felt his large hand wrap around your throat –– hoisting you up slightly while he pistoned his cock inside you, and he pressed his lips against yours; muffling the loud moans and whimpers that tumbled out of your mouth as he tangled his tongue with yours. He traveled his hand below your abdomen, his calloused fingertips rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud –– his lips not once ever leaving yours. You whined in his lips, feeling yourself losing strength in your arms. However, with his one arm hooked around your chest, he held your body up as he continued to fuck and rub your pussy. You were about to melt.
This all felt too fucking good.
“Ah! Mmm—Ngh! I-I’m gonna come again––! I… Hah… Fuck… ‘m so fucking close — please, Toji. I wanna come so fucking bad––!” You whined in his mouth, bucking your hips desperately against his; your legs twitched each time his hips met yours, hitting that sweet spot each time he fucked his fat cock inside your velvety walls. “O-Oh my god, this feels s’fucking goooood.”
“Yeah?” Toji queried, groaning at your words, and you nodded your head eagerly. Suddenly, your face was once again pressed to the pillows; his large hand pinning your head in place while the other returned to your clit –– rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bud as he rutted his hips into yours with an unwavering fervor.
“Shit. Come for me then, doll.” He grinned, clenching his jaw as he slammed his hips into yours, driving your body forward on the mattress.
The lewd noises of his hips rocking into yours, mixed with your wanton cries and his groans filled the room; only increasing in volume the closer you were towards reaching your orgasm. Given his staggered thrusts, you were certain he was also close.
“Mmm—Toji..” You mewled his name in between your needy whimpers and moans. “Hah! Ngh… Cum inside me…Ah! Want you… Mmm… to fill me up.”
Toji’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace as he fucked you arduously; his lips latching onto your collarbone, peppering a line of kisses and love bites.
A loud cry ripped from your lips, your whole entire body trembling as your orgasm washed over you; your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you arched your back against his chest in pure bliss — your hips convulsing as your juices, once again, sprayed all over his cock and the mattress. The raven-haired man tightened his grip on your breasts, practically squeezing the mound as he succumbed to the rhapsodies of his release.
“Oh, fuuuck.” Toji let out a drawn out groan, slumping his body atop yours as the tip of his cock slammed against your cervix, coating your walls with thick layers of white, warm fluid. Breathing heavily and as small grunts escaped his lips, his brows furrowed at the way your walls clenched tightly around him in an attempt to milk him dry. Languidly, he pulled out of your heat, his dark eyes glued onto the masterpiece he had created –– watching his seed trickle down your hole. Grinning, he stuck his finger back in, pushing his cum back inside your wet folds.
Heavy breaths filled the room, then returned the noises of the beads of rain smacking against the window. He glanced back up at you, his gaze locked onto your flushed face before he leaned in, pressing a chaste peck on your lips and slumping on the bed next to you.
“Are you feelin’ alright, doll?” Questioned Toji, caressing his fingers against your cheek. You nodded in response, cracking an enormous smile.
“I feel better than ever,” you said, nuzzling your head into his neck; your arms snaking around his muscular arm. “I loved every moment of it.”
“Oh, yeah?” Toji smirked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, placing it behind your ear. “Me, too.”
He shortly left the bed, making wide strides towards the washroom –– returning with a towel in his hand. Reaching out for the towel, you were about to thank him but he stopped you; his hands softly pushing you back down on the mattress.
“Oomph…!” Was the sound you made as your back made contact with the soft mattress, and you snapped your gaze to Toji’s.
“Lemme take care of you, doll. You don’ gotta worry bout anythin’ else.”
You sighed in relaxation, relishing in the sensations of the soft and warm towel pressed against your skin; cleaning off the sweat and excess juices. “Thank you, Toji.”
He replied with a low hum, his hands caressing your body in a newfound tenderness. Your heart swelled at the gesture, your lips cracking a soft smile as you continued to watch the older man take good care of you and your worn out body.
“If you’re not feelin’ too sore yet, care to join me in the shower after this?”
As if all the fatigue had instantly evaporated from your body, you had never uttered yes so fast until this very moment.
EXTRA SCENE — !
NAOYA COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES, his body frozen in place like a deer in headlights as he stared into the small crack of the door of the dressing room, his eyes unable to peer away from the sight of his older cousin fucking his ex-girlfriend like a madman; his flushed ears picking up on the lewd sounds of your stifled mewls paired with the squelching noises of both your bodies connecting together. His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd.
He glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow beneath his boxers. Shit.
When he first stumbled across you at his cousin, Zen’in Mai’s wedding reception with Airi clinging closely onto his arm, the last thing he expected was to see you by his cousin’s side — and what was even more frustrating was how Toji wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side without breaking eye contact. It was almost as if Toji was mocking him, especially with that smug smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.
No words were exchanged between you and the blond male, there wasn’t any need to.
Naoya had thought nothing of it, at first. After all, it had been months since you had both taken your separate ways; he immediately made his relationship with his coworker official. Although Airi could be extremely clingy at times, he felt happy — at ease, even. After all, he could finally love his woman out in the open without any more shame. Though, after the initial encounter with you and Toji, he never crossed paths with you again during the reception. He could only stare from the distance, watching you happily chat with both Maki and Mai for a brief moment before he noticed a bright pair of eyes peering at him, and he shifted his gaze onto his girlfriend’s.
An hour had nearly passed, but Naoya was, undeniably, growing the biggest urge to simply walk out of the reception and head on home. While everyone busied themselves on the dance floor, chatting away with the other guests, or getting their nth plate of the night, Naoya had excused himself to the washroom.
Strolling down the empty hallways, his eyes scanned around the corridor to look for any familiar restroom signs — the blaring music playing that the venue rang in his ears. He stuck his hands into his pocket, feeling the irritation slowly getting to him. But then, all those feelings of growing frustration came to an abrupt halt when he heard your voice and that of another man’s. He lifted his head, tilting it over to the side in curiosity. There was noise coming from the dressing room, the door up ahead, and he could see a little bit of light peeking through the door.
“Babe,” Naoya could hear your playful whines through the door, “I-I don’t think we should do this here..! What if someone sees us?”
“Then let them see us. This is ya fault ya know?” Toji said, his voice low. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneakin’ around, pressing yer ass against my dick? There’s only so much patience I can take in, doll.”
He could hear you stifle a moan, letting out a sharp gasp as Toji thrusted his hips into yours.
“You dirty girl, look at how yer pussy’s grippin’ so nicely around my cock. You love my cock, dont’cha?”
“Mhm—Ah! Yes, baby!” You moaned pathetically, taking everything within you to control your volume.
Naoya’s hand immediately slapped over his mouth, feeling the blood rush to his face. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten closer to the door — he could either 1) turn around to leave and return to the reception, or 2) leave to continue searching for the bathroom. Either way, the best course of action was to leave, yet he still found himself standing in front of the door — staring between the small crack in complete awe at the sight before him.
Toji had you perched up atop the wooden dresser, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he slammed his hips into your drenched heat; his hands snaked underneath your dress, squeezing your ass as he pulled you closer unto his cock. You writhed, throwing your head back as you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your mind was going numb due to the pleasure your older boyfriend was giving you — stretching your pussy out in the most delicious way possible.
“Y-You’re so fucking big, baby…” You mewled out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips with each thrust he slammed his fat cock into you; evoking obscene noises of your hips meeting each other. “I-I wan’ more, please… baby—!”
His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd; your face all flushed, your eyes clouded in unadulterated lust as drool trickled down your lips.
Naoya glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow between his legs.
“Shit,” he mumbled out, unable to control the blood rushing to both his face and his erection. He should’ve run away –– he had to, but for some reason his feet stayed planted on the ground and his eyes were unable to look away from the pornographic scene; your hands all tangled up in his older cousin’s raven locks, his lips and tongue messily locked with yours — muffling your needy moans as he continued to fuck you in a relentless pace, the head of his cock kissing your cervix each and every time.
Each noise that was elicited from your lips sent shocks of arousal straight to his heat, and he gritted his teeth. He knew this was wrong — hell, it even felt wrong. Yet, his feet wouldn’t budge.
Shiiiiit.
© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform. interactions / reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
#★ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x reader smut#toji x you#toji zenin#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#jjk x reader smut#fushiguro toji smut
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Matchmaking Buns
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ in which your bunnies inadvertently lead you into meeting your new neighbors, who are far too endeared by you from the get-go <3
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
The thing is, you absolutely adore your bunnies. Two holland lops, one mini lop, and a flemish giant all together with full freedom of your house and a big garden for them to play in- with a bet overhead to protect them against hawks and whatever else. Hell, they even have a patio in case it rains.
You absolutely adore them. You worked your ass off to have a house like this, and then have enough money and space to give them everything they need. They are the lights of your life.
Simultaneously, they might possibly be your biggest source of headache.
All this space, all these spots and nooks and crannies for them to hide and play in- and their favorite activity still remains having you chase them down the road like the incorrigible brats they are. None of your neighbors are surprised by the sight anymore, often helping you but right now there isn’t anyone around except a group of men that you ignore. They must be the new neighbors.
(God, your embarrassment will know no bound after this.)
“You fucking four bastards! Once I catch you- ugh!” You shout, aiming it at those little monsters that remain living rent-free in your house as you run fast after them. But-
Oh no. Oh noooo. The four men, the new neighbors, turn around at your shout; likely assuming you meant it at them. Only to have your bunnies barrel through and between their legs.
After this, once you get those brats back, you will have to join them in finding a burrow to hide in your garden. That’s the only solution.
God must be smiling down at you, though; God must be satisfied by the regular entertainment you provide, because the men catch the bunnies. All four men catch all your four bunnies. It’s almost hilarious seeing your mini-lop in the hands of the big(gest) dude with the surgical mask. The tiny bastard doesn’t even seem mildly bothered, just nosing around the man’s chin and mask. Your two holland hops are in the hands of a very pretty man- wow, what eyelash serum does he use?- and a man who is wearing a boonie hat. Your flemish giant chills in the hands of the one with the mohawk.
You slow down as you jog towards them, trying to catch your breath. The amusement and confusion on their faces would’ve almost been comical if you weren’t so embarrassed.
“Oh- oh my god, I’m so, so sorry-” You begin, cheeks pink. Fuck, you weren’t even anything that appropriate either; jean shorts and a rather thin top. “I’m sooo sorry, jesus christ. They- they usually don’t bother other people when they do this-“
“They do this often?” Boonie hat man raises an eyebrow, chuckling.
You nod, glaring down at the bunny who just… stares right back at you. Little beast. Evil little beast that enjoys your suffering. “Yeah… they get a certain joy out of my suffering. Once again, I’m so sorry-“
“Easy there, lass,” mohawk man grins at you, as does pretty man. You can’t tell what exoression their fourth might have on his face. Your flemish giant begins cleaning her face, unbothered. “They dinnae hurt noone… though maybe just yer lungs.”
As you gather your breath, still cradling your wayward bunnies, you glance up at the group of men and realize you haven’t even introduced yourself yet. Great. Chasing rabbits down the street and forgetting your manners? You’re on a roll today.
“I’m—uh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m [Name].” You gesture awkwardly toward your bunnies, still snuggled up in their rescuers’ arms. “And these are… my little troublemakers.”
The man with the boonie hat offers you a warm grin, extending his hand. “John Price. Looks like we’re neighbors now, love.”
You take his hand, appreciating the solid, firm shake and give him a smile. “Nice to meet you, John. And thanks again.”
The man with the mask remains silent but inclines his head, giving the tiniest of nods. He’s still holding your mini-lop, who’s completely unbothered, nosing at his mask like it’s a toy. “Simon.” he says in a low, gravelly voice.
His voice sends a tiny shiver down your spine. There’s something about his calm presence, even with your rebellious bunny in his grasp, that feels oddly reassuring. If anything, seeing your bunny si relaxed makes you far more willing to trust him. “Thanks, Simon. I appreciate it.”
The man with the mohawk steps forward, his grin as cheeky as ever. “Johnny MacTavish.” His Scottish accent rolls smoothly, and you can’t help but smile back. “Looks like yer big girl here likes me, huh?” He scratches behind your flemish giant’s ear, who responds by nudging into his hand.
You laugh. “Yeah, she’s usually shy, but I guess you’ve won her over.”
The last man, who had been standing back slightly, steps forward, still gently cradling one of your holland lops in his arms. “Kyle Garrick.” he says softly, his eyes flicking between you and the bunny. “They’re cute little things, aren’t they?”
You nod, heart warming a little. “Yeah, they are. And… a handful.”
For a brief moment, there’s a quiet, comfortable silence. You close your eyes and take in a deep, calming breath, not noticing the way all of them seem oddly focused on you—not in a bad way, but more like they’re genuinely interested.
“How do you take them back then?” John asks at last, breaking the silence. He’s almost absent-mindedly patting your bunny’s head.
“Well, I usually try to coax them with treats,” you say, opening your eyes to glance down at your bunnies. “but it seems like they’ve chosen chaos today, so no treats for them. I’ll just herd them back.” You shoot the bunnies a mock glare, earning a soft chuckle from Price.
“Seems like they’ve got a bit of personality,” Simon comments, his voice low. “Must’ve gotten that from you, yeah?”
You blink, caught off guard by his subtle tease. Was that a compliment? From him? You laugh softly, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “Well, they’re stubborn, that’s for sure.”
Kyle, steps forward and holds the bunny out to you. “Here, love. Looks like he’s had his fun. Don’t worry, no harm done.”
You take the bunny from him, your fingers brushing his as you do. “Thanks,” you murmur, feeling a bit flustered by the warmth of his touch. “I was about ten seconds away from having a meltdown.”
Johnny leans forward, his grin widening even as he hands over your flemish giant. One by one, you get back all your bunnies. “Aye, ye seemed like ye were in a bit of a panic. But nae need to be embarrassed, lass. We’ve all got our little burdens.”
Your eyes dart to his, catching a mischievous twinkle there. He’s definitely enjoying this a little too much.
You sigh dramatically, still cradling your mischievous bunnies. You set them down, and like the most obedient angels ever, they just hop and wait around your feet. “They’re more than burdens, they’re the bane of my existence sometimes. But I love them.”
Price chuckles, arms crossed over his broad chest. “It’s good you care about them that much. Not everyone would go to such lengths for their pets.”
You smile sheepishly. “Yeah, well… they’re my kids, basically. Little fluffy nightmares, but I love them.” You glance up at the group, unable to hide your appreciation for their help. “I seriously owe you guys. Maybe a drink sometime? Or dinner? As a proper thank you and welcome, of course.”
Simon shifts slightly, eyes still on you, though his face remains unreadable behind the mask. Johnny shoots him a look, then turns back to you with a grin. “Would nae wanna bother ye, lass-“
You blink, quickly shaking your head. “Oh, no, it won’t be a bother at all! I mean, it’s the least I can do after… all of this.” You gesture vaguely at the situation. Your mini-lop flops down near Simon, likely expecting pats.
Johnny’s grin deepens, and he exchanges a look with Price. “We’ll hold ye to that, lass. What day works for ye?”
You laugh nervously, cheeks still warm. “I’ll… I’ll figure something out and let you know.”
Kyle gives you a soft, reassuring smile. “We’ll be looking forward to it. And don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye out for any runaway bunnies in the meantime.”
As the men begin to head back to their place, Johnny calls out over his shoulder, “Remember- dinner, lass! No backing out!”
You roll your eyes with a playful smile but can’t help feeling flustered as you watch them go, and then laugh a little when Simon smacks the back of Johnny’s head, your heart beating a little faster. When they’re out of sight, you glance down at your bunnies.
“Thanks for the assist, you little terrors,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Now I owe them dinner. Perfect.”
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
Part 2
Masterpost + interactions, comments, reblogs and everything in between is very much encouraged 🫶🏻
#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#soap x reader#cod imagines#poly 141#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz x you#they r ur bunnies biggest fans btw#and vice versa ur bunnies love them#call of duty x reader#call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost x you#noona.writes
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hushed fantasies ¡
pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader
summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.
contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)
a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!
word count 1.7k
You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(
Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.
nic: oh?
nic: i think you got the wrong person
You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.
You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.
But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.
Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.
Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.
And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.
You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.
He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.
That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.
And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.
You: i didnt mean to send that to you
The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
nic: clearly
nic: i dont have a gf btw
Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?
You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.
He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.
You: cover your eyes pls
You: this wasn't for u
nic: you sure?
nic: are there any other nics in your life?
Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?
You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.
You: what if there is
The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?
nic: then that would be disappointing.
Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.
nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else
Oh my god, were you dreaming?
You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.
Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?
You: ??? wdym
nic: you first
nic: was this about me, doll?
The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.
He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.
You: what if it was
You: what will you do ab it
You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?
nic: then id risk it all
Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.
You: are you saying this because you’re tired
nic: no
nic: god no
There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.
Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.
You: it is
nic: it is what?
You: this is so embarrassing
You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about
nic: baby
nic: jus tell me
You: no you suck im going to sleep
nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute
You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.
You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute
nic: oh? so you do admit it
You: …
You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.
nic: you couldve told me yk
You: do you hear yourself
nic: ? what
You: nic you know this is wrong
You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it
nic: you knkw
nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot
You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.
You: what are you saying
nic: fucking hell
nic: take the hint baby
You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.
You: what
nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious
nic: i wouldve happily showed you
That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.
The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.
He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.
You: dont say that
nic: what, you don't believe me?
You: nic
nic: give me five
You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.
As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.
nic: open the door
nic: im outside your room
You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.
He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.
The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.
The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.
#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez x y/n#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x you#charlie mayhew#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew
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Jilted
Charles Leclerc x runaway bride!Reader
Summary: you find out that your groom is a cheating bastard on your wedding day … Charles helps you pick up the pieces
The sun-drenched bridal suite buzzes with anticipation as you stand before the full-length mirror, your reflection a vision in white lace and satin. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through your veins. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but something feels ... off.
“You look absolutely stunning,” your best friend, Mia, gushes as she adjusts your veil. “James won’t know what hit him.”
You force a smile, trying to shake the nagging feeling in your gut. “Thanks, Mia. I just ... I can’t believe this is really happening.”
Mia squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Cold feet are totally normal. Trust me, once you see James waiting for you at the altar, all those doubts will melt away.”
A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts. Your mother peeks her head in, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
As she enters the room, you notice her clutching her phone, her knuckles white. “Mom? Is everything okay?”
She hesitates, exchanging a worried glance with Mia. “I ... I’m not sure how to say this, honey.”
Your stomach drops. “Mom, what is it? Just tell me.”
She takes a deep breath. “I just got off the phone with James’ mother. She... she overheard him talking to someone. A woman.”
The room spins as you struggle to process her words. “What are you saying?”
“It seems ... it seems James has been seeing someone else. For quite some time, apparently.”
The words hit you like a physical blow. You stumble back, gripping the edge of the vanity for support. “No,” you whisper. “That can’t be true. We’re getting married in an hour!”
Mia rushes to your side, her arm around your waist. “Y/N, breathe. We’ll figure this out.”
But you can’t breathe. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “I need ... I need to talk to him.”
Before anyone can stop you, you’re bolting from the room, your dress billowing behind you as you race down the hallway. You burst into the groom’s quarters, startling the group of groomsmen inside.
“Where is he?” You demand, your voice trembling.
James’ best man, Tom, steps forward, his face pale. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It’s bad luck-”
“Where. Is. He?” You repeat, each word dripping with venom.
The bathroom door opens, and there he stands — the man you thought you’d spend forever with. James’ eyes widen as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
You laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “What’s wrong? How about you tell me, James? Who is she?”
His face crumples, and in that moment, you know it’s true. “Y/N, I can explain-”
“Explain?” You spit. “Explain how you’ve been cheating on me our entire engagement? How you were going to stand up there and lie to my face, in front of everyone we love?”
James reaches for you, but you recoil. “Please, just let me-”
“Don’t touch me!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. “How could you do this to me?”
The room falls silent, save for your ragged breathing. James’ groomsmen shift uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. You turn to leave, but James grabs your arm.
“Y/N, wait. I love you. We can work this out,” he pleads.
You wrench your arm free, fixing him with a glare that could freeze hell itself. “Love me? You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
With that, you’re running again, pushing past concerned guests and ignoring the calls of your name. You burst out of the hotel into the blinding sunlight, your legs carrying you down the street without a destination in mind.
You don’t know how long you run, your white dress now stained with dirt and tears. Eventually, you find yourself in a part of town you don’t recognize, your feet aching and your lungs burning. A neon sign catches your eye — The Dive Hole.
Without thinking, you push open the door to the dingy bar. The few patrons inside turn to stare as you stumble in, a bride in full wedding attire, mascara streaking down your cheeks.
The bartender, a gruff-looking man in his fifties, raises an eyebrow. “Rough day, sweetheart?”
You laugh, the sound bordering on hysterical. “You could say that.”
As you collapse onto a barstool, the weight of the day finally crashes down on you. You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
The bartender slides a glass of amber liquid in front of you. “On the house,” he says gruffly. “Looks like you could use it.”
You lift your head, offering him a watery smile. “Got anything stronger?”
***
The world spins as you stumble out of The Dive Hole, your wedding dress now stained with whiskey and regret. The streetlights blur into a hazy glow as you teeter on your heels, struggling to maintain your balance.
“Hey, watch it!” A passerby shouts as you nearly collide with him.
“Sorry,” you slur, waving a hand dismissively. “Just trying to ... to find my happily ever after. Have you seen it? I think I lost it somewhere.”
The man hurries away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk. You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the empty street. “That’s right, run away! Everyone else does!”
As you take another unsteady step, your heel catches in a crack in the pavement. You lurch forward, bracing for impact with the cold, hard ground. But instead of concrete, you find yourself enveloped in warmth.
“Whoa there!” A gentle voice exclaims. “Are you alright?”
You blink, trying to focus on the face of your savior. Kind green eyes peer down at you, filled with concern. The man helps you regain your footing, his hands steady on your arms.
“I’m fine,” you insist, even as the world continues to tilt around you. “Just ... just celebrating. It’s my wedding day, you know.”
The man’s brow furrows as he takes in your disheveled appearance. “Celebrating alone? In the middle of the street?”
You nod vigorously, immediately regretting the action as nausea washes over you. “Yep! Best day ever. Who needs a groom anyway, right?”
“I’m Charles,” he introduces himself, his accent warm and inviting. “And I think maybe you should sit down for a moment. There’s a bench just over there.”
He gently guides you to the nearby bench, helping you settle onto it. You slump against the backrest, your head lolling to the side.
“So, Charles,” you drawl, poking him in the chest. “What brings you out on this fine evening? Looking for love in all the wrong places?”
Charles chuckles softly. “Actually, I was just heading home after a late dinner with friends. And then I found a beautiful bride who seems to be having a rough night.”
You snort, gesturing to your ruined dress. “Beautiful? I look like I’ve been through a war. A war of the heart.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles offers, his voice gentle and free of judgment.
For a moment, you consider spilling everything. But the wound is too fresh, the betrayal too raw. Instead, you shake your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes once more.
“No talking,” you mumble. “Just ... can you sit with me for a bit?”
Charles nods, settling onto the bench beside you. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”
You sit in silence for a while, the cool night air slowly clearing your head. Charles remains a steady presence at your side, occasionally glancing at you with concern.
Finally, you break the silence. “I should probably go home. Except ... I don’t really know where home is anymore.”
Charles frowns. “You don’t have anywhere to go?”
You shake your head, a humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Nope. Funny how your whole life can fall apart in a single day, huh?”
Charles is quiet for a moment, seeming to wrestle with a decision. Finally, he speaks. “Look, I know we’ve just met, but ... I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay there for the night, just to sleep it off and figure things out in the morning.”
You blink at him, surprised by the offer. “You’d do that for a stranger?”
He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Well, we’re not exactly strangers now, are we? Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if I left you out here alone.”
You consider his offer. Every logical part of your brain is screaming that this is a bad idea, but something in Charles’ eyes tells you he can be trusted. Plus, you’re not exactly swimming in options at the moment.
“Okay,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Charles.”
He helps you to your feet, steadying you as you sway slightly. “My car’s just around the corner. Think you can make it?”
You nod, determined. “Lead the way, knight in shining armor.”
The ride to Charles’ apartment is mercifully short. You spend most of it with your head against the cool glass of the window, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Charles fills the silence with gentle small talk, his voice soothing in the darkness.
When you arrive, Charles helps you out of the car and into the elevator. As you ascend, the reality of your situation starts to sink in.
“Oh God,” you groan, leaning against the elevator wall. “What am I doing? I don’t even know you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer or something.”
Charles chuckles. “I promise I’m not a serial killer. Just a guy who couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.”
The elevator doors open, and Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment. As he fumbles with his keys, you sway on your feet, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.
“Here we are,” Charles announces, pushing open the door. “Home sweet home.”
You step inside, taking in the stylish but comfortable living room. “Nice place. Very ... un-serial-killer-like.”
Charles laughs. “Thanks, I think. The spare room is just down the hall, but maybe we should get you some water first.”
He guides you to the kitchen, filling a glass with cool water. You accept it gratefully, gulping it down.
“Easy there,” Charles warns. “Small sips or you’ll make yourself sick.”
You nod, slowing down. As you finish the water, a wave of emotion washes over you. The events of the day come crashing back, and before you know it, you’re sobbing.
“Hey, hey,” Charles says softly, moving closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”
Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. Charles stiffens for a moment, surprised, before wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup between sobs. “I’m getting your shirt all wet and snotty.”
You feel Charles’ chest rumble with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what washing machines are for.”
He holds you as you cry, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You cling to him, this kind stranger who’s shown you more compassion in one night than your fiancé did in years.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles asks gently.
You shake your head, still pressed against his chest. “Not yet. Maybe... maybe tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he says simply. “Whenever you’re ready.”
You stay like that for a while, your sobs gradually subsiding into quiet sniffles. Charles continues to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.
As your breathing evens out, exhaustion begins to overtake you. Your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself struggling to stay upright.
Charles seems to sense your fatigue. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He leads you down the hallway to the spare room, supporting most of your weight as you stumble along. The room is simple but cozy, with a plush-looking bed that seems to call your name.
“There should be some spare pajamas in the dresser,” Charles says. “They might be a bit big, but they’ll be more comfortable than that dress.”
You nod sleepily, already fumbling with the zipper of your gown. Charles quickly turns away, a blush creeping up his neck.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it,” he stammers. “Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it. And I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble, your eyes already half-closed. “Thank you, Charles. For everything.”
He smiles softly. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”
As the door closes behind him, you manage to slip out of your wedding dress and into a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The bed feels like heaven as you sink into it, your body finally relaxing after the emotional roller coaster of the day.
But as you lie there in the dark, the silence allows your thoughts to creep back in. Memories of James, of the life you thought you’d have, of the future that’s now shattered. Tears begin to fall once more, soaking into the pillow.
Before you know it, you’re padding out to the living room, sniffling quietly. Charles looks up from his spot on the couch, concern etched on his face.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Can’t sleep?”
You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Every time I close my eyes, I see ... I just ... I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Without a word, Charles opens his arms. You practically collapse onto the couch next to him, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”
You nod against his chest, fresh tears soaking into his shirt. Charles doesn’t seem to mind, just holds you tighter and begins to hum softly, a soothing melody that washes over you.
As you lie there, surrounded by the warmth and kindness of this virtual stranger, you feel something you haven’t felt all day: safe. The steady rhythm of Charles’ heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of calm.
Your eyelids grow heavy once more, and this time, you don’t fight it. As you drift off to sleep, still wrapped in Charles’ arms and using his shirt as a makeshift tissue, your last coherent thought is a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be better.
***
The first rays of sunlight filter through the unfamiliar curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. For a blissful moment, you’re disoriented, unaware of where you are or why your head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of yesterday crash over you, bringing with them a fresh wave of pain and embarrassment.
You groan, burying your face in the pillow. How did you end up here? Slowly, fragments of the night before come back to you — a kind stranger, an offer of shelter, crying yourself to sleep on the stranger’s couch.
Charles.
His name was Charles.
The smell of coffee and something deliciously savory wafts through the air, making your stomach growl despite the lingering nausea. Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed, wincing at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is a tangled mess, mascara smudged under your eyes, and you’re wearing clothes that are decidedly not yours.
Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself to face your host. You pad quietly down the hallway, following the sounds of movement in the kitchen. As you round the corner, you see Charles standing at the stove, his back to you as he hums softly to himself.
You clear your throat softly. “Um, good morning.”
Charles turns, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”
You grimace, running a hand through your tangled hair. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Emotionally and physically.”
He chuckles sympathetically. “I bet. Here, sit down. Coffee?”
You nod gratefully, sinking into a chair at the small kitchen table. “Yes, please. And maybe some painkillers if you have them?”
“Coming right up,” Charles says, placing a steaming mug in front of you before rummaging in a drawer for the pills.
As you sip the coffee, relishing the warmth spreading through your body, Charles returns to the stove. “I hope you like omelets. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, but I figured eggs are usually a safe bet.”
“Omelets sound perfect,” you say, your stomach rumbling in agreement. “Thank you. For everything. I ... I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”
He waves off your thanks, sliding a plate in front of you. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad I could help.”
As Charles settles into the chair across from you with his own plate, a comfortable silence falls between you. You pick at your food, your appetite warring with the knot of anxiety in your stomach.
Finally, Charles breaks the silence. “So ... seems like yesterday is quite a story.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “A very long one.”
Charles’ green eyes meet yours, filled with gentle curiosity. “Care to share?”
You hesitate, pushing your food around your plate. Part of you wants to keep it all locked away, to pretend yesterday never happened. But another part of you is desperate to unburden yourself, to make sense of the whirlwind that turned your life upside down.
Taking a deep breath, you begin. “Well, yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day.”
Charles nods encouragingly. “I gathered as much from the dress. What happened?”
“I found out my fiancé — ex-fiancé now, I guess — has been cheating on me. Throughout our entire engagement.”
Charles winces. “Ouch. That’s ... I’m so sorry.”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even as tears prick at your eyes. “Yeah, well. Apparently I’m great at picking them.”
“How did you find out?” Charles asks gently.
You laugh bitterly. “Oh, it was a real soap opera moment. His mother overheard him on the phone with the other woman, literally an hour before the ceremony. She told my mom, who told me, and ... well, you can imagine how that went down.”
Charles shakes his head, disbelief etched on his face. “That’s awful. What did you do?”
“I confronted him, of course. In front of all his groomsmen. It was ... not my finest moment. There was a lot of yelling, some crying, probably some mascara running. And then I just ... ran. In my wedding dress. Like some cliché runaway bride, except I had nowhere to run to.”
You pause, taking a sip of coffee to steady yourself. Charles remains silent, his face a mix of sympathy and something else — anger, maybe?
“I ended up in some bar I’d never been to before,” you continue. “Drank way too much, way too fast. And then I was stumbling around on the street, and ... well, you know the rest.”
Charles nods slowly, processing your story. “Wow. That’s ... that’s a hell of a day.”
You snort. “You can say that again.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Charles says, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand gently. “No one deserves that kind of betrayal.”
His touch is warm and comforting, and you find yourself fighting back tears again. “Thanks. I just ... I feel so stupid. How did I not see it? We were together for five years. We were supposed to spend our lives together. And all this time ...”
“Hey,” Charles interrupts softly. “You’re not stupid. He’s the one who made the choice to betray your trust. That’s on him, not you.”
You nod, not entirely convinced but appreciating his words nonetheless. “I guess. It’s just ... where do I go from here? We had a whole life planned out. A home, careers, maybe kids someday. And now it’s all just ... gone.”
Charles is quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe this is an opportunity.”
You look at him skeptically. “An opportunity? To what, have my heart ripped out and stomped on?”
He chuckles softly. “No, no. I mean ... look, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ve been given a chance to rewrite your story. To figure out what you really want, without having to consider someone else’s dreams or expectations.”
His words give you pause. You’d been so focused on what you’d lost, you hadn’t even considered what you might gain. “I ... I guess I never thought of it that way.”
“It’s okay if you’re not ready to see it as a positive yet,” Charles assures you. “Healing takes time. But I promise you, this isn’t the end of your story. It’s just the beginning of a new chapter.”
You manage a small smile, the first genuine one since yesterday morning. “Where did you learn to be so wise, huh?”
Charles grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, you know. I moonlight as a philosopher when I’m not rescuing damsels in distress from the streets.”
You laugh, surprised by how good it feels. “My hero,” you tease.
As your laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles between you. You find yourself studying Charles, really looking at him for the first time. He’s handsome, in a boyish sort of way, with kind eyes and an easy smile. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t quite place it.
“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I’ve shared my tragic backstory. What about you? What’s your deal, Charles?”
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, you know. Just your average guy.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Average guys don’t usually invite strange women in wedding dresses to stay the night. Unless ... oh God, you’re not married, are you? Did I just cause some poor woman to think her husband was cheating?”
Charles laughs, holding up his hands. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m very much single. And I promise, inviting strange women in wedding dresses to stay over is not a regular occurrence for me.”
“So what do you do, then? When you’re not playing knight in shining armor?”
A flicker of something crosses Charles’ face before he answers. “I’m ... in sports. Racing, actually.”
You nod, impressed. “Racing? Like, cars?”
“Formula 1,” he clarifies. “I’m a driver.”
Suddenly, it clicks. The familiarity, the nagging feeling that you’ve seen him before. Your eyes widen. “Oh my God. You’re Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver.”
He grins sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”
You bury your face in your hands, mortified. “Oh God. Oh God. I cried all over a world-famous race car driver. I used your shirt as a tissue. This is ... this is so embarrassing.”
Charles reaches across the table, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “Hey, none of that. I’m just a person, like anyone else. And I meant what I said — I’m glad I could help.”
You peek at him through your fingers. “You’re sure? Because I’m pretty sure I got mascara and snot all over your probably very expensive shirt.”
He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “I promise, it’s fine. The shirt will survive. I’m more concerned about you. How are you feeling now?”
You consider the question, taking stock of your emotional state. “Honestly? Still pretty awful. But ... maybe a little less awful than before. Thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found me last night.”
Charles smiles softly. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time. And hey, look at it this way — you’ve got a pretty unique story to tell now.”
You groan, but can’t help laughing. “Oh yeah, because drunk and crying in a wedding dress is exactly how I wanted to meet one of the best F1 drivers in the world.”
“One of the best?” Charles teases, clutching his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m clearly the best.”
You roll your eyes, grinning despite yourself. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such greatness.”
As you banter back and forth, you feel something shift inside you. The pain is still there, raw and aching, but it’s no longer all-consuming. For the first time since yesterday, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay after all.
***
The roar of engines fills the air as you make your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement of race day palpable. You can’t help but smile, still amazed at how much your life has changed in the past few years. From runaway bride to Formula 1 WAG — it’s a plot twist you never saw coming.
“Mon cœur!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Charles jogging towards you, his race suit tied around his waist. He grins as he reaches you, pulling you into a quick embrace.
“Hey, you,” you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve got time. Besides, I needed my good luck charm.”
You roll your eyes fondly. “Flatterer. Go on, get back to work. I’ll be cheering you on from the garage.”
He steals one more kiss before heading back towards his team, leaving you shaking your head with a smile. As you turn to make your way to the Ferrari motorhome, a familiar face in the crowd stops you dead in your tracks.
Your ex-fiancé is standing just a few feet away, gawking at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you’re frozen, unsure how to react. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, since that disastrous almost-wedding day.
Before you can decide whether to acknowledge him or pretend you haven’t seen him, James is moving towards you, a strange mix of emotions playing across his face.
“Y/N?” He says, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that really you?”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Hello, James.”
He looks you up and down, taking in your sleek outfit and the VIP pass hanging around your neck. “Wow. You look ... different. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with my partner,” you say simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.
James’ brow furrows. “Your partner? You mean like ... a business partner?”
You can’t help but laugh. “No, James. My partner. As in, the person I’m in a relationship with.”
His eyes widen comically. “You’re dating someone involved in Formula 1? Who?”
Before you can answer, a small group of fans approaches, their eyes lighting up as they spot you.
“Excuse me,” one of them says excitedly. “You’re Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, right? Could we please get a picture?”
You smile warmly at them. “Of course!”
As you pose for photos with the fans, exchanging a few friendship bracelets as well, you can see James out of the corner of your eye. He’s standing there, mouth agape, looking like he’s been hit over the head with a frying pan.
Once the fans move on, James practically pounces on you. “Charles Leclerc? You’re dating Charles Leclerc? How ... when ... what?”
You sigh, already tired of this conversation. “Yes, Charles and I have been together for a while now. Is there something else you needed?”
He shakes his head, still looking dazed. “I just ... I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”
“It’s a long story,” you say, not particularly wanting to rehash your past with him. “One I don’t really have time to get into right now.”
James seems to ignore your hint, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t expect me to believe that you’re actually dating one of the best F1 drivers in the world. What’s really going on here?”
You feel a flash of anger at his dismissive tone. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, no offense,” James continues, oblivious to your growing irritation, “but last I knew, you couldn’t tell the difference between F1 and NASCAR. Now you’re supposedly dating a Ferrari driver? It doesn’t add up.”
You clench your fists, trying to keep your cool. “People change. They grow. They learn new things. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He scoffs. “Right. So I’m supposed to believe that in the few years since our ... since we last saw each other, you’ve not only become an F1 expert but also managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in the sport? Come on, Y/N. What’s the real story? Are you some kind of ... I don’t know, brand ambassador or something?”
Before you can respond, a warm hand settles on the small of your back. You look up to see Charles standing beside you, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.
“Everything okay here, mon amour?” He asks, his eyes flicking between you and James.
James’ jaw drops even further, if that’s possible. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.
You lean into Charles’ side, drawing strength from his presence. “Charles, this is James. My ex-fiancé. James, this is Charles. My boyfriend.”
Charles’ eyebrows shoot up in recognition, but he recovers quickly, extending a hand to James. “Nice to meet you,” he says politely, though there’s a hint of steel in his voice.
James just stares at the offered hand, then back at you, then at Charles again. “This ... this is a joke, right? Some kind of prank?”
Charles drops his hand, frowning. “I assure you, it’s not a joke. Y/N and I have been together for over two years now.”
James shakes his head vehemently. “No. No way. This doesn’t make any sense. Y/N, what are you playing at?”
You feel your patience snap. “I’m not playing at anything. Charles and I are together. We’re happy. I’m sorry if that’s difficult for you to comprehend, but it’s the truth.”
“But ... but how?” James sputters. “How did this even happen?”
Charles tightens his arm around you, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Well, if you must know, I found her wandering the streets in a wedding dress, crying her eyes out because her fiancé was a cheating bastard.”
James blanches, his face turning an interesting shade of purple. “That’s ... that’s not ... you can’t just ...”
“Can’t what?” You challenge, feeling emboldened by Charles’ support. “Can’t move on? Can’t find happiness with someone who actually respects me? Can’t build a life that doesn’t revolve around you?”
A small crowd has started to gather, attracted by the rising voices and the presence of Charles Leclerc. You can see people whispering, phones discreetly pointed in your direction.
James seems to notice the attention too, his eyes darting around nervously. “Look, Y/N, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”
“It’s not a game,” you interrupt, your voice firm. “This is my life. A life I’m very happy with, I might add. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Charles has a race to prepare for.”
You start to turn away, but James grabs your arm. “Wait, just ... just tell me the truth. Is this some kind of revenge? Did you set this all up to get back at me?”
Charles tenses beside you, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I suggest you remove your hand,” he says, his voice low and controlled.
James lets go as if burned, taking a step back. “I just ... I don’t understand. How could you … with him?”
You take a deep breath, deciding to end this once and for all. “James, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once. What happened between us was years ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve built a life I love, with a man I love. Your inability to believe that says far more about you than it does about me.”
You turn to Charles, softening your voice. “Come on, love. You need to get back to the team.”
Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple before addressing James one last time. “It was ... interesting meeting you. Enjoy the race.”
As you walk away, leaving a stunned James in your wake, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well, that was ... something.”
Charles chuckles, squeezing your hand. “You handled that beautifully, mon cœur. Though I have to admit, I was tempted to deck him when he grabbed you.”
You lean into him, smiling. “My hero. But I think leaving him standing there like a fish out of water was far more satisfying.”
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you pause, turning to face Charles. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For being there, for backing me up. For ... everything, really.”
Charles cups your face gently, his green eyes full of love. “Always. You know I’ve got your back, just like you’ve always had mine.”
You stretch up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, you know that?”
He grins, that boyish smile that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. “I love you too. Now, how about we go win a race, yeah?”
As you enter the garage hand in hand, the organized chaos of the team preparing for the race enveloping you, you can’t help but marvel at the twists and turns that led you here. From the lowest point of your life to the highest — all because a kind stranger couldn’t leave a crying bride on the street.
You squeeze Charles’ hand one more time before he heads off to his car. As you watch him go, you silently thank whatever twist of fate brought him into your life that night. The road hasn’t always been smooth, but you wouldn’t change a single moment of it.
After all, sometimes the best love stories start with a broken heart and end with a chequered flag.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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A Smile From Hell
[Homelander x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.
WC: 3576
Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}
In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)
『••✎••』
John fucking terrified you.
He terrified everyone, really.
He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.
But, the thing was...
You knew everything about him. Everything.
And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.
Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.
You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.
John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.
But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.
And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.
How are you allowed to live?
That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.
After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.
She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.
Not his stage name, his real name.
For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.
A little bit of understanding.
"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.
The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.
"What?"
"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."
She snorted.
"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."
"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."
She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.
"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."
Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.
His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.
He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.
You respected his past; anything after that was on him.
"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."
She rolled her eyes at you.
"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."
Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?
"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."
You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.
And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.
But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.
He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.
Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.
Relief, almost.
It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.
He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.
But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.
You had a similar history but different outcomes.
And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.
Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.
The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.
The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.
Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.
It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.
The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.
Except for one.
He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.
His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.
Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.
So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.
She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.
But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.
But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.
You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.
The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.
It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.
"Don't," he said.
He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.
You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.
"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.
His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.
He was a volcano, ready to erupt.
You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.
"Really?"
He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.
"Don’t you have anything better to do?"
You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."
He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"
"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."
He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.
"And why do you care?"
You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."
He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.
"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."
That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
"Don't make me throw up, John."
The name.
It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.
He could've killed you.
He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.
He didn't, though.
No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.
After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.
Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.
Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.
"Let’s have a chat."
Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.
You were so done.
And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.
You didn’t, though.
You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.
But, for some reason, your death never came.
Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.
You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.
He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.
After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.
"Aren't you going to ask?"
Ask what? What was there to ask?
There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.
You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.
So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.
"Are you going to kill me?"
You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.
He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.
"No."
Simple and clear.
You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.
But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.
You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.
Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.
Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.
It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.
It was terrifying. He was terrifying.
"Do you remember your parents?"
The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.
"Yes. Why?"
His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.
"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."
Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.
Of all people, he chose to tell you.
You didn’t know how to feel about that.
You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?
It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.
Why?
"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."
His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.
He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.
"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.
And he did, in fact, let out a snort.
"Understatement of the year."
You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.
Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.
It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.
All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.
It was a mockery—a complete joke.
He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.
And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-
"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.
It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.
"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."
You could tell.
His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.
For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.
He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.
Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.
But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.
Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.
He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.
The action did not go unnoticed.
"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.
You shrugged. "I've just never…"
Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…
Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.
The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.
The symbol, the image, the mask.
The facade.
This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.
"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"
Normal.
The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.
But you couldn't.
He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.
"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.
A smile.
It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.
A soft, small one, but still a real smile.
A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.
You found him amusing.
And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.
"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."
He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.
Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.
But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.
So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.
He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.
Capable.
That's what it was.
He was capable.
He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.
He was capable.
All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.
So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."
Again, a smile.
The smile.
It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.
You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.
The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.
A demon that was capable.
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