#bc last time I just. yeah it wasn’t the best moment

[vampiremourning]

trying soo hard to be normal and Good At Conversation this time

[hyuckiefluff]

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

[vanesycho]

YO I JUST HAD A DREAM about RED HAIR YUTA giving me the best head of my life

And I would love if some body can make a story about it because....

LORD HAVE MERCY

RED HAIR YUTA BRO🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

a/n:no bc IT MUST BE THE BEST DREAM IN THE WORLD. red haired yuta is my reason for living😔 anyways thank you for your request i hope it was as you wanted🤍

warning:smut, eating out, a little fingering

If there was one thing you loved in this life, it was your boyfriend with red hair. Okay, it might sound weird, but really, have you seen him? When he got home, you just stared at the red hair you saw with excitement. “You dyed your hair!” Yuta grinned at your excitement. “Yeah, I just wanted to go back to that color. You like it?” You approached him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his lips. He held you tightly by your waist, preventing you from pulling away. “Does that mean yes?” A small giggle escaped your mouth. You nodded. “Good. Then lay down and let me eat you out, hm? I bet you want to hold on to that red hair you love.”

Even the thought of it stirred something inside you, so you did as he said and laid down. Yuta was on top of you in no time, easily removing your shorts and panties, slapping his hand on your clit and slowly stroking it. Then leaned over, made you cross your leg over his shoulder, he sucked your clit, you whined briefly, put your hand directly to his red hair that you loved. He laughed against your pussy "Cute." He buried himself inside you without waiting any longer. Started to caress the inside of your pussy with his tongue, he touched your hole "Yuta.." He listened to how you moaned his name needily, he gave you more every time your moan increased.

He put his tongue inside your hole, tasted every inch of you without rushing. Reached out his hand and started to caress your nipple. You started to move your hips "More, please.." The slowness of his tongue was driving you crazy, but he didn't listen to you, he pulled back slightly to talk between tongue strokes "Be patient. Or I'll leave before you cum." You swallowed, he easily slid a finger inside you while continuing to caress your pussy with his tongue, you let out a loud moan with the unexpected move. Yuta didn’t move, just curled it inside you, his finger slowly sliding in and out of you as his tongue sped up on your clit.

Your pussy tightened, you could already feel yourself coming, Yuta knew you were close with your finger wrapped around him. He let out a moan against your pussy. “Oh you better cum in my mouth.” He pulled his finger out, just as you were about to whine, he spread your legs wider and started licking your hole quickly. He thrust it back inside you, your waist arching in pleasure as you felt yourself getting even closer to cumming. “Please..I-” you couldn’t finish your sentence, you couldn’t even speak properly from the pleasure, you just moaned his name needily. Your wetness had covered almost every inch of Yuta, if that was possible he pushed his tongue further inside you and then all of your cum came right into his mouth. Yuta moaned in pleasure as you moaned in a tearful voice, tasting you for a while. He pulled away for a moment, smirking at how wet and spent you looked. “Was that good? Or should I make you cum again?” When you saw that he was looking at you with hungry eyes, you knew very well that this wasn’t the last.

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕤𝕚𝕩

around the rink

bestfriend!joe x fem!reader

summary: the one where you go ice-skating with your best friend for his birthday 🤍 (and a surprise?)

warnings: none really… just cutesy ;)

word count: 2k.

note: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY JOEY B!! i thought you guys might like a cute cozy bestie joe fic! 🫶🏻 i listened to dorothea by taylor swift, here with me by d4vd, p.s i love you by paul partohap, and night changes by one direction (hehe also bc of the mv) :)

okay guys. it’s edited and parts have been reworked. i kept a lot of the jokes about girls in because this is fiction, and they are just jokes and banter. love you.

you slide your spare key into joe’s front door lock as quietly as you can, turning it gently and slowly pushing the door open. you step inside softly, toeing off your shoes and placing the small gift bag on the coffee table before heading down the hall.

when you texted joe last night to ask if you could come over he said it’d be fine but you assumed joe would still be asleep when you got here. as you made it further and further down the hallway you began to regret not calling him to let him know you were here. ‘what if he has a girl over. fuck.’ you thought, almost turning around and heading back outside to call him.

before you could take another step his bedroom door opened, and joe screamed with a bit of fright as he didn’t expect you to be standing there. “JESUS CHRIST, Y/N!”

you screamed back at him, you were spooked easily if someone else was. joe leapt forward slightly and enveloped you in his arms, your face pressed into his bare chest. you’d only just realized he was shirtless and…. ‘play it cool. play it cool.’ you told yourself.

“what are you doing over so early? i wasn’t expecting you til noon.” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you.

“well, i was actually about to go back outside and call because i quickly realized that just coming in could have been a bad idea since it’s so early. do you— is someone else here? i can go and come back?” you ask sheepishly, wringing your hands together.

“yeah, i have three girls in my room right now.” he tells you stone-faced. your eyes widen for a moment before you realize he’s just messing with you. joe laughs out loud before releasing you from his embrace and rubbing your shoulder.

“nobody’s here, goof. you’d know if i was seeing someone.” that part was true, you and joe shared everything with each other given that you’d been friends for so long. you hadn’t seen him in a while, but you always made time to call and talk to each other, so every detail of your lives were still shared.

“true,” you echoed, but your mind was still racing. “but like, it’s your birthday. you could’ve been rocking out to jeremih in there, you get me? like birthday sexin’ it up. nasty.” you shudder.

joe laughs at you again before running a hand through his hair. “shut up. i’m glad to see you, even if it is early as fuck.” he says softly, throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking toward the kitchen with you in tow.

joe opens the fridge as soon as he’s standing in front of it, grabbing out a jug of orange juice. he pops the top off and begins chugging it straight from the bottle.

“that’s so fucking nasty, joe!” you scold him, your face crinkled up in disgust. “nobody else lives here or drinks outta this. shut uppppp. you sound like my mom.” he replies.

you roll your eyes at him and walk to the living room to grab the gift bag you brought with you. joe meets you in the doorway, and you can see the excitement glaze over his eyes as he sees the bag in your hands.

“you got me a gift? you didn’t have to.” he assures you, his voice soft as a smile creeps across his face.

“i wanted to. it’s not much, but i thought you’d like it.”

he takes the bag from you slowly and pulls out the tissue paper, crumpling it up and throwing it to the floor. you shake your head and laugh at him as you pick it up, but you keep your eyes on joe as he pulls the gift from the bag.

you got him an ornament for his tree, which you were shocked to see he’d put up since he was currently living alone. you figured robin might’ve had something to do with that. the ornament was shaped like a snowflake, and it held one of your favorite photos of you and joe. it was one that another mutual friend took of you while you were out at dinner one night.

in the picture, your mouth was full of ramen noodles, the chopsticks still to your mouth as the noodles hung out of your lips mid-slurp. joe was next to you, his face turned toward yours as he pretended to go for a bite of the side of your head. your eyes were crinkled up and joe was visibly holding in a laugh. it was one of your favorites and you knew joe loved it too.

“this is… i love it!” he says, walking over and immediately placing it on the tree, front and center. he had a few other ornaments littered around, but he put this right in the middle. “that’s one of my favorite photos of us. thank you.” he says kindly, walking over to you. joe reaches out to wrap you in a hug.

“happy birthday joe!” you say, squeezing him back. he holds you close for a moment, and you love the embrace, you’ve missed him a lot. he missed you a lot, too.

you stay there for a few moments, holding each other, but the next thing you know is joe’s grabbing the back of your head and shoving your face in his armpit. you scream and punch him in the chest as he backs off and then runs away laughing.

“you’re so gross! what is wrong with you!” you shout down the hallway, chasing after him. he runs in his room and plops down on the bed, and you follow him. you jump onto his bed too and fall back against the pillows, both of you catching your breath from laughing.

joe finally regains his composure and rolls over to face you. “so, do you have plans today? or did you wanna hangout?”

you smirk at him. “i figured we could hang out. i have a surprise for you later.” you wink.

joe doesn’t question it, he’s learned to never question you or your antics. the two of you lie in his bed for a while, catching up and goofing around with each other before deciding to order take-out and watch a few movies.

your bellies are soon stuffed and the movies are lulling you both into a quiet, comfortable slumber. you don’t mind falling asleep beside joe, you’ve done it before on many drunken nights and even through a few fucked up heartbreaks. his soft snores fill the room and soon after you’re knocked out too, off somewhere in la-la-land.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

when you wake you check the time on your phone, 5:45pm. you let out a loud sigh of relief when you realize you didn’t sleep too long, and you and joe could still make your evening plans.

you shake joe awake, gently at first, but with more force when he doesn’t budge. “joseph lee, wake the hell up!” you shout, rolling over on top of him. he keeps his eyes closed but he smiles at you, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

you suddenly feel a little flustered, but when joe opens his eyes you try to play it cool. joe looks a little nervous too, but you aren’t sure why.

you hop off the side of the bed quickly, grabbing joe by the hand and pulling him up. “put on a hoodie and some shoes, we gotta go!” you say excitedly, running toward the living room to slip your shoes back on.

joe meets you in the living room, his body clad in an old high-school football sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. you smile softly at him before taking his hand and leading him out the door. he locked his front door as you unlocked your car doors, sliding into the drivers seat quickly.

joe opened your passenger door and leaned his head in. “oh hell nah, you’re not driving me around. get out.” he protests.

“yes i am, joseph. i’m not telling you what or where the surprise is. get your ass in the car.”

joe groans in frustration and reluctantly slides into the car, buckling his seatbelt with a noticeable attitude. “you’re such a grump.” you laugh, reaching over to shove his shoulder.

you put the car in reverse and back out of his driveway quickly. the drive is short, so you don’t bother turning any music on. joe keeps his eyes trained forward. he’s pretending to be mad, but you know he isn’t. he’s probably more nervous for where you’re taking him than anything else.

when you arrive you park and turn the car off, anxious for joe’s reaction. you’ve brought him to an ice-skating rink. he looks at you with wide eyes.

“you brought me ice-skating? i’m too valuable to the team, y/n. what if i get hurt?”

your smile drops, realizing you didn’t think this through. “fuck. just like dance moms when maddie couldn’t skate.” you said, turning to face away from joe.

“i’m teasing bub. we’ll be fine. i’m sure it’ll be fun.”

you shoot him a dirty look as you both exit the car. “i tried to get it as secluded as possible. i reserved a time and told the owners about it so… hopefully nobody will bother us.” you tell him as you both walk to the entrance. “if they do you can just flash ‘em that rbf and they’ll probably hit the road.” he laughs.

you and joe grab your skates and lace up, super careful when you take the blade covers off as you get to the ice rink. neither of you are pros at skating, but you both aren’t horrible either. you take it slow at first, doing a few laps before being confident enough to try and skate with joe.

you’re both laughing as you lock hands, gaining speed as you circle the rink together. there aren’t many people there, and the people who are don’t bother you at all.

“want me to spin you?” joe asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “do i look like kristi yamaguchi to you? hell no.” you say, giving him a stern look to stamp your point. joe continues laughing as you both skate a few more laps around the rink.

when you’re finished, you both quickly come off the ice to change your shoes, carefully putting the blade covers back on before turning your skates in. the cold winter air bites at your noses and ears since the rink is mostly outside, so you and joe order travel cups of hot chocolate, yours with extra marshmallows. he races you back to the car.

you get in quickly and start the engine, turning the heat up as high as it’ll go before sipping at your hot drink. the warm liquid seeps through you and you’re thankful that the cup in your hands is warming your frigid fingers. joe smiles at you softly before taking a sip of his drink, and then places his cup in one of your cupholders.

“did you have fun?” you ask him, you’re starting to feel nervous. he licks his lips before answering, and he seems nervous again too. you aren’t sure why.

“i had so much fun. you made my birthday so special.” he says, reaching across the console to take one of your hands. you have to put your cup down too, but you extend your hand to joe after.

his thumb rubs soothing circles into the back of your hand. his eyes meet yours in a fleeting gaze. you start feeling even more nervous.

“joe… is something wrong?” you ask, concerned at his sudden behavior.

“no, i was just wondering if i could…” he trails off, still not meeting your gaze. you know he’s looking from his peripherals. you cock your head to the side in question before he turns to look at you again.

it happens quickly. one moment you’re making innocent eye contact with him, the next he’s leaned across the console, his hand gently cupping your face as he presses his lips to yours. your brain has completely turned itself off. your eyes are wide in disbelief. you have to force yourself to calm down, to focus on this moment.

you close your eyes, kissing joe back with fervor. ‘holy shit. your best friend is kissing you. and you’re okay with it?’

joe pulls away slowly, keeping his eyes trained on yours to gauge your reaction. “thank you for today. it was so special.” he says. you nod your head yes, unable to form words. joe grips your hand, squeezing it softly before sitting back in his seat and facing forward.

the drive home was the same as the drive there, quiet. full of silent words and emotions that needed to be shared. but where should you start?

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori

[sunsetchicane]

i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year. 

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport. 

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. 

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out. 

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?” 

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went. 

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied. 

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it. 

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed. 

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena. 

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line. 

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?” 

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.” 

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act. 

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!” 

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?” 

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her. 

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no. 

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon. 

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island. 

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him. 

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions. 

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless. 

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them. 

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.  

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind. 

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you. 

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been. 

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench. 

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart. 

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss. 

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away. 

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned. 

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much. 

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years. 

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded. 

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players. 

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you. 

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you. 

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it. 

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto. 

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you. 

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned. 

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel. 

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling. 

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands. 

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest. 

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.” 

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks. 

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you. 

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile. 

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted. 

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while. 

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver. 

“Thank God you actually showed up.” 

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you. 

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took. 

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke. 

“I love you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?” 

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-” 

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-” 

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?” 

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” 

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture. 

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie. 

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away. 

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely. 

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?” 

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.” 

“You think?” 

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek. 

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.” 

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?” 

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.” 

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly. 

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night. 

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.” 

[suugarbabe]

the 'anything but' party | m.r x reader

prompt: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

word count: 2.2k

warning: angst, smut, heavy smut, 18+ MDNI!!

You were okay with parties. You weren’t ever overly obsessed with them, but the party tonight you were particularly excited about. It was a theme party. The theme being any house but your house. Very typical of the Gryffindors to throw something that will likely cause absolute chaos, but you were here for it. 

You threw on the jersey you had borrowed from Enzo Berkshire. You had a few classes with him and was even partnered with him in potions last year. When you heard about the theme he was the first person you went to. You asked if you could borrow his jersey for the party and he was more than willing to loan it out to you. 

As you threw it on it fell to about mid thigh. You thanked Merlin for Enzo’s height because now you could just wear his jersey as a dress. You turned to Luna, who had borrowed a bomber jacket from Blaise, “How do I look Lunes?”

She tilted her head, smiling and clasping her hand together, “You look marvelous! I think it would’ve suited us well to be sorted in to Slytherin.” 

You laughed a little, “Yeah, I do quite like how I look in green.” Your thoughts drifted to another Slytherin that would be able to accommodate your new favorite color. 

“Thinking about Mattheo?” Luna’s voice cut into your internal monologue and your cheeks instantly flamed. 

You did your best not to stutter over your words, “I don’t, erm, I mean why do you ask?” 

In very Luna fashion, she made no comment about you being flustered, her voice fluttering out like a feather with simple observation, “I only ask because it’s obvious that he likes you very much. It’s quite sweet, really. Are you going to finally tell him that you like him as well?”

You couldn’t help but stare at her dumbfounded. You figured your constant rejections to Mattheo’s advances made it appear to everyone that you did not reciprocate his feelings. That wasn’t actually the case, but you wanted to make him work for it. 

Girls came far too easy for Mattheo, basically throwing themselves at him. It was vomit inducing to you at times, how blatantly obvious they would be and how he essentially cherry-picked whatever girl he was feeling that particular moment. 

You weren’t going to be one of those girls, you absolutely refused it. So when you first noticed Mattheo staring at you at the beginning of the year, you just rolled your eyes anytime they connected to his. 

The first time you did this, his eyebrows shot to the ceiling, not used to this type of response from a woman. When he tried to stop you after class, you quickly shot your hand up before he could even get a word out, “Not interested, Riddle.” 

He was met with a chorus of “ohhhh’s” from his friends, which likely died down quickly due to a glare or threat from the scorned man. He tried again after that…and just about every other day from that first moment you rejected him until this morning. 

You weren’t blind, you knew Mattheo was attractive. Hell, you’ve known since the bloody sorting ceremony in first year. But the way that all of the girls swooned over him, and how he so obviously ate it up, you vowed to never be that girl. 

So for the last six years, you never really paid him any mind. You knew he was there, you knew his reputation, but he never really consumed your thoughts. So when he started staring at you, then starting actually pursuing you, you couldn’t quite understand why your heart would beat faster, or get butterflies in your stomach. 

You had boyfriends throughout your school career, even dating the quidditch captain of your house, but something about Mattheo focusing solely on you like he has made your stomach flutter like no other guy you’d been with. You weren’t even with Mattheo, but him pursuing you essentially deterred any other guy from coming up to you. 

Finishing your hair and makeup, you and Luna joined a few other Ravenclaw’s and headed to the Gryffindor common room. Walking through the portrait hole you would think there was nothing going on, but as soon as you passed through the entryway you broke the silencing charm barrier and was assaulted with the sound of bass and smell of weed. 

You looked over at Luna, who took a deep inhale, “Don’t you just love that earthy smell?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her care-free spirit. “I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want one?” Luna nodded, telling you she was going to find Blaise and to look for her in the usual spot. 

Heading to the drink table you spotted Enzo who was adorning a Ravenclaw cardigan. You had a little skip in your step, sidling up next to him and grabbing cups for you and Luna, “Well hey there, looking dashing in blue and bronze.” 

He smirked at you, leaning against the table while you got yourself a drink, “Looks like you were sorted into the wrong house. Green definitely suits you.” You turned to him, a drink in each hand, “Thank you, Enzo.” 

He held an arm out, “Shall we? I’m assuming you're not doublefisting tonight and one of those is for Miss Lovegood?” You let out a laugh, nodding and following him to the back corner where his gang of miscreants resided. You both were simply walking next to each other. Your hands were full with both drinks and while he only had one his other hand was flailing around in the air as he recounted aspects of the last Slytherin quidditch game. 

So when you reached the group, you were surprised that Mattheo’s face was set in a scowl. You quirked an eyebrow when he finally met your eyes, which took a moment as his were apparently taking their sweet time scanning your body, his eyes rolled, scoffing slightly and leaning back on the couch. 

You decided to be bold tonight, Luna’s voice from earlier in the back of your head. You greeted the others, then went and sat down next to Mattheo. As soon as your ass hit the chair, Mattheo scooted a few inches away from you. You told yourself not to be hurt by this, but he had essentially been trying to be all over you for the last month and a half. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you turned to face him, one leg now on the couch, causing the jersey you had on the ride higher on your leg. Mattheo’s eyes cast down briefly, seeing more of your skin exposed before meeting your eyes again.

“What are you wearing?” His eye contact was intense, making you squirm a little. “It’s a theme party, I’m wearing Slytherin clothes.” He let out a huff of air through his nose. You narrowed your eyes at him now, asking him again, “What’s your problem?”

He pinched the number that laid just above your left breast, your breath getting caught in your throat with how close his hands were, “You’re wearing Enzo’s jersey.” You couldn’t quite place his tone but it sounded almost like…jealousy? This made you smirk a little and now the wheels in your mind were turning. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “I thought it looked cute.” Your hands caressing the side of your body to the hem of the jersey. You saw his eyes follow your hands as you roamed your body, now focused on where your hands played with the hem, “And it’s so long on me I didn’t even have to wear any panties.” 

You saw the clench in his jaw, and you’d be lying if you said the action didn’t send a searing heat through your body. You started to pull the jersey higher up your legs, just to tease him a little. His hand shot to your wrist, “Stop.” You smirked at him, “What’s wrong, Matty?”

The nickname was something new you were toying with and it seemed to have the effect you were looking for as the grip he had on your wrist tightened. He placed his other hand on your thigh, using it as leverage to lean closer to you. 

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, goosebumps rising along your skin, “It’s gonna be really hard for me to fuck you with Berkshire’s jersey on.” Your cheeks immediately turned red. You turned your head, staring into his eyes, faces so close your noses are nearly brushing against one another. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you feared he could hear it over the bass of the music.

Your facade was failing, quickly. The desperation you were feeling was more extreme than you could control. “Kiss me,” you requested, eyes not leaving the brown ones you were gazing at. He laughs softly, smirk adorning his face as his eyes flicker down to your lips. 

Normally that type of cockiness from him would have you leaving Mattheo there hot and bothered but tonight you found yourself leaning towards him with just as much anticipation. His mouth slotted against yours, he tasted like cigarettes and firewhiskey. You latch onto him, fisting a handful of the hufflepuff cardigan he chose for the party. 

When you finally pull away, lungs burning for air you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. Mattheo’s lips were red and swollen. You look at him with big eyes, silently telling him you wanted more than was possible in the open common room. 

Mattheo glanced around, searching for a solution. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the stairs to the dorms. He led you down a hall, opening the first door he could find and pulling you in behind him. 

Before you could even glance around the room Mattheo had you pressed against the door. His arm circled your waist, sliding down the small of your back before grabbing a handful of your ass, his mouth attaching itself to your neck, sucking at biting at the soft skin there. The action had the most obscene noise leaving your throat.

His grip on your ass tightens, holding you flush against his body as he tucks a knee between your legs. You whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing against your bare clit. He braces himself with his free hand on the door, resting his forehead to yours, “Merlin, I’ve been wanting to make those noises leave that pretty mouth of yours all year.” 

You open your mouth to respond, fully prepped to give a witty retort when he pressed his leg against you again. A whimper leaves your throat this time and Mattheo looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him.

You gripped his forearm, “Matty…please.” You looked up at him through your lashes as his hand dipped under the jersey, fingertips feather light on your skin. “So needy, love. Had to wear someone else’s jersey just to get me riled up, hmm?” His head dips down, lips grazing the sensitive skin where your neck and collarbone meet. 

He bites you lightly, nipping and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving his mark in a place where it’d be hard for you to hide, claiming you as his. You’re basically grinding yourself on his leg now and Mattheo thinks he can cum from the sight of you using him for your own pleasure. 

“So wet, love, can feel you through my trousers,” Mattheo grabs your hips, stilling you against his leg emitting another whine from you. “You gonna be good f’me, love?” he was teasing you now, but that didn’t stop you from nodding pathetically. 

He dragged the material of the jersey over your hips, a gasp releasing itself from your lips as the air hits your bare center. Your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and Mattheo drops to his knees. He puts one of your legs over his shoulder, your hand shooting to his shoulder to brace yourself as his tongue licks a stripe up your dripping cunt. 

A mewl spills from your mouth and you swear you can feel him smirk against you. Without warning he plunges two fingers deep inside you, your back arching off the door and into his touch. His free hand grabs your hip, stabilizing you against the door.

He flattens his tongue, dragging it from his fingers inside you back to your sensitive nub. Your other hand flies to his curls, fingers laced and pulling harshly. This only spurs him further, curling his fingers inside you. They rut against your g-spot, pressure building in your lower belly.

You thank Merlin for the loudness of the party because the sounds Mattheo was getting you to make were sinful. His lips are attached to your clit, mercilessly sucking and licking and humming against the bud. 

Your legs are trembling and Mattheo’s grip on your hip tightens, your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream, you can’t even cry out, your mind dizzy with anything but the bliss that Mattheo is giving you between your legs as your tumbling over the edge.

He continues to eat you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he slowly removes his fingers. “Fuck, Matty,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath as he lowers your leg from his shoulder. 

Mattheo stands, mouth attaching to yours immediately. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He trails kisses along your jaw, down your neck then up to your ear, “Now let’s get you out of this fucking jersey.”

[pastryfication]

can you do something with lando or oscar where the reader does really bad on a test or exam that they studied a lot for and so he comforts them? i'm pretty sure i just failed my chem exam 😭

i choose lando bc it’s been awhile since i’ve written for him! hope you liked this, it was a bit quick but i wanted to post it for you asap 💗

hours upon hours of studying had let to this moment. sleepless nights and numerous crying sessions culminated in this. this test had been all you had thought of—it felt as though every aspect of your life had been about this moment in the last time.

you really needed to do well on this test, it was so so important to you. so when the result came back and you had failed, it felt as if your whole world crumbled.

you were supposed to pass. you were supposed to be smart. you had studied so relentlessly, so why wasn’t it enough?

when you came home to your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to go to bed and never get up. just stay there, in the warm comfort of your duvet forever.

but as you opened the door, something even better awaited you.

your boyfriend stood there in all his glory, an exited smile on his face. “welcome home, love!” lando sounded so joyful that you wanted to cry. you had failed him. he was going to be so disappointed that you didn’t pass after he spent so much time helping you study. the thought was almost unbearable for you, and you could feel your bottom lip start to tremble.

“i failed, lan.” your voice came out wobbly, the sadness more than evident. “i failed the test.”

his smile immediately turned into a frown, and in two strides he was by your side, enveloping you in a hug.

“oh, babe.” he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head, cradling you close to his chest.

his voice, tinged with so much empathy, was enough to open the floodgates, and before you knew it, you were bawling into his chest, all the emotions you had tried so hard to conceal on the way home coming rushing out.

“i don’t get it,” you hiccuped into his chest. “i studied so hard. i tried my absolute best…” your grip on his hoodie tightened and his arms around your back pulled you even closer in response. “i gave it my all and it still wasn’t enough.”

his heart broke at the defeat in your voice and it took him a moment to gather himself. he didn’t know what to say. didn’t know how to comfort you, so he just held on tight, kissing your head repeatedly and murmuring soft “i love you”’s into your hair.

“baby,” after a while of just standing there, he finally spoke up. “it’s- it’s okay to fail.” he pulled back, taking your cheeks in his warms hands to look you in the eye. “it didn’t go as you hoped, yeah, but the important thing is that you’ve tried. you gave it everything you had and that’s so incredible. you’re so incredible. you always give 110 percent, even when you don’t get it in return, and i’m so proud of you for that. for- for not giving up. it may feel hopeless right now, but it’ll get better. i promise. you’ll do better on the next one—or maybe you won’t, and that’s okay too.”

he ended his speech with a warm kiss to your lips, and you didn’t know wether to laugh or cry again. the way he cradled your face with such adoration, the way he stumbled over his words, desperate to say exactly what you needed to hear, it was just too much.

he was so perfect. the best boyfriend you could have asked for in that moment.

[underskz]

➪ LET'S SEE WHO HURTS THE OTHER MORE

➪ seo changbin x cisfem!reader ✩ w.c 3.2k (➪ cheater!choi yeonjun x same reader) — NSFW ✩ 18+ minors dni —

✰ NON-IDOL AU

pov: sick of your boyfriend's lies and infidelity, you've finally decided on your parting gift to both him and yourself...in the form of one of his best friends.

note: uhh i rlly can't explain myself on this one,, i've been listening to too many sad songs and my brain said write a cheating revenge plot fic and write it now >:) so here i am uhhh, going for it... sorry yeonjun ! (i'm not rlly that sorry lmao) also has anyone else noticed that i keep writing for 99s idols,,, even tho they’re not my biases… anywayz the title is from war by keshi lol

warnings: CHEATING like all around everyone's a cheater (except changbin but he's willingly sleeping w his bestie's gf so...), and isn't reader entitled to this 100% valid crash out ?? (i'm kidding...or am i???), toxic relationship, toxic behavior, unsafe sex (no condoms), spit (and a dream) as lube, bad language, slight manipulation from reader but changbin lets it happen lmao (might be a lil into it even), yeonjun is the worst in this….but it’s for the plot!!! i swear !!!!, open/ambiguous ending, excessive use of ellipses bc im dramatic :)

“I’m sorry.”

At least Changbin has the decency to look ashamed, the guilt of covering up for his friend’s transgressions clearly having eaten away at him. He keeps his head low, intent on pretending one of the cracks on the kitchen tiles requires all his attention. 

For a moment you consider throwing him out, screaming at him to never come back and to tell Yeonjun to fuck himself into the next century. 

There’s a part of you that wants to blame Changbin, because if he was gonna turn around and confess Yeonjun’s infidelity anyway, why didn’t he stop him? 

Instead you inhale slowly, exhaling as evenly as you possibly can and swallow down the venom building on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s okay, Bin.” And his head finally snaps up, shocked by your lack of surprise and borderline disinterest. Again you swallow back any scathing comments, a certain numbness swirls through your chest as a dull throbbing in the back of your skull threatens a headache.

“W-What?” He dares to meet your eyes for a second before pinning his gaze somewhere over your shoulder.

“I know, I mean I’ve known. And I know it wasn’t a one time thing.” You sigh, and a part of you wishes that your boyfriend hadn’t trapped his friends in his lies as well. 

“You knew Yeonjun was…” He clears his throat harshly.

“Cheating? Yeah, and I guess he hasn't really considered stopping, or at least being subtle about it. And after all those fights and promises to change..I don’t even know what I see in him.” It’s the truth, still unsure why you’ve bothered plodding along in this relationship after catching Yeonjun stepping out on you almost four months ago. 

You had found him in the alleyway of a club after he drunkenly called begging for you to come pick him up, only to see him wrapped up in a disgusting lip lock with some other woman with his hands shamelessly wandering. 

He hadn’t even apologized, just mumbled over and over again about how he was so drunk, how he thought it was you. At the time you chose to believe it, at the time you still loved him.

But now it’s different, now you’re left wondering how much more you can take, or why you can’t just end it.

Maybe it’s a fear of loneliness, or the pains of having to untangle your life from his after spending almost four years tying them together. Whatever it is, the strings have finally begun to fray, and the last remnants of that naive thought of him changing disappeared the moment Changbin stepped foot into your apartment with that kicked puppy look to him.

And now here you are, staring at your boyfriend’s proclaimed “ride or die”, in all honesty if you were to expect any of Yeonjun’s friends to fess up to the man’s wrongs for him, Changbin wouldn’t have been your first guess. He might be principled and righteous to a fault, but this is a man who would help Yeonjun hide a body no questions asked; morals be damned. 

You wonder what the tipping point was, wonder what Yeonjun could’ve done this time around that made Changbin force himself to make that choice. 

“How long?” You purse your lips, because even then you had doubted it was the first time, Yeonjun’s lies losing their efficacy somewhere between the third and fourth time you caught him fabricating his whereabouts— and who he was with.

“Um, well.” His eyes begin darting around once more. 

“The least you can do is be honest with me…he hasn’t been.” You cross your arms in a poor attempt of trying to brace yourself for whatever Changbin will say. Though your feelings for Yeonjun are practically nonexistent at this point, it wouldn’t make finding out more about his betrayal hurt any less.

“I think the first time was, ah well, it was…” You watch as he clenches and unclenches his fist, clearly conflicted, the morally righteous side barely able to push past his fierce loyalty to his friend. 

“Changbin, please.” You sigh, teeth digging into your bottom lip while making your eyes wide just so they’ll begin to water. If Changbin needs you to look like the heartbroken girlfriend to find his voice then so be it.

“Last year, when you were back visiting family…Wooyoung had this party and…”

His words seem to fade away, whisking through one ear and out the other. A year, an entire year of him lying to your face. You feel sick, used up and disgusted at the way you’ve been played like a damn fiddle. Like you’ve meant nothing to him and that all those years you spent in love with him— completely wasted.

Your knees start to buckle, a weak and nauseating feeling twisting in your stomach and Changbin in all his gentlemanly glory quickly catches you, dragging you into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I should’ve said something earlier.” His voice cracks, as if he’s the one who’s so despicably wronged you, and you could laugh. It shouldn't be Changbin here with his arms around you, apologizing like his life depends on it. "I-Is there anything I can do?"

It's said so softly you almost don't catch it, and the thought that bursts into your head is so sudden —and rather devious— that it almost doesn't feel like yours. You decide to blame Yeonjun for whatever happens next.

Because there’s a lot that Changbin can do.

"Just...keep holding me." The words come out shakier than you expected, thankful for how tightly he’s holding you, keeping you from falling apart completely. You try to breath slowly, deep inhales and exhales that fill your senses with Changbin’s cologne, the warmth radiating off of him soothing your nerves.

"Yeah, uh, okay...yeah I can do that." He inhales sharply. "Do you wanna sit?"

"Sure." The affirmation coming out as a defeated sigh. And carefully, as if he knows you'll shatter at any moment— he guides you to the couch, letting you sit before settling beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulders.

You let your head fall back, resting upon a firm bicep as you try to make sense of the last few minutes. You consider your options, debating on just how far you’re willing to go in the name of revenge. 

It's not fair to drag Changbin further into this, not when Yeonjun has already done a fine job of testing his friend's moral compass— but at the same time the man has been complicit in these lies for a year, looking you in the eyes and laughing with you as if there was nothing amiss. Maybe Yeonjun wasn't the only one who needed to suffer consequences.

But if anything, in some twisted way, this could be a reward for Changbin’s honesty, a thank you and even a favor done for you as a proper apology.

So you inch closer, moving until you're practically seated in Changbin's lap while you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck, stilling as he stiffens in your hold. 

For a moment you wonder if you moved too fast. But not even a second later he relaxes, tightening the arm that's already around your shoulders and bringing up his other to run his hand comfortingly up and down your back. 

You let yourself melt into him, a tight coil in your chest starting to unravel. It's concerning how safe you feel, seated in the lap of your cheating boyfriend's best friend, maybe your sense of right and wrong and love and affection has been all screwed up courtesy of one Choi Yeonjun.

Yet you’re only allowed to revel in this moment for what feels like only a few minutes, too distracted by the warmth to even think of your next move, of how far you'll go.

Changbin starts to shift under you, his hands retracting and you can't help the needy whine that sounds in your throat. You could care less if it sounds desperate, you're vulnerable after all.

"Bin please, you said you'd hold me."

"I should go." His voice is hoarse, and you pull back just enough to see his eyes darting back between you and the door. "Didn't you say Yeonjun was coming by later?"

"I said he might." And Yeonjun said he would, but you doubted it, these days his promises fell through more often than not. "Who knows anymore, he's probably fucking some other bitch or looking for one." 

He frowns at that, and you're unsure if it's your harshness or disappointment over the fact you're most likely right.

"It's just that, I don't think...we should…I should go." He makes a weak attempt to push you off of him, stopping the moment you grab his wrists.

"But I don't want you to." Immediately releasing your hold on him, his hands hover, unsure of whether or not to drop them or to continue holding you.

"Yeonjun is, he's still my friend..." Changbin says carefully.

"And I'm not?" It's not like the two of you met because of Yeonjun, in fact you met Yeonjun through Changbin and a few other mutual friends back during university. But maybe that's what was making him so unsure, the social repercussions. The risk of everything falling apart as if Yeonjun didn’t create this. "I mean...I guess if you really wanna go Bin, I won't...force you to stay."

And slowly you let your eyes crawl up, peering through your lashes as you worry your bottom lip with your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. With a sharp inhale he follows the movement with his eyes, one of his hands thoughtlessly landing on your thigh. 

"We shouldn't." His fingers tighten for half a second, eyes darkening by a fraction. 

"Shouldn't what? We're not doing anything?" You lean in closer, and closer, until your lips are a measly inch away from each other. "Unless you think we should be?" 

He swears under his breath, your name following closely before he seals his lips against yours. And maybe a touch too desperately you scramble to rearrange yourself in his lap, moving until you're straddling his thick thighs and gripping onto his muscled shoulders.

"This is, it’s wrong?" There’s a strain in his words; but it’s barely a question, and one posed more for himself than you.

"You're comforting me, you're being a good friend and comforting me." You drag your lips across his jaw, trying not to grin as he tightly grips at your hips. "I'm hurting, make me feel better?"

"Are you sure?" You meet his gaze, the intention of not wanting to take advantage of your supposed vulnerable state clear in his eyes, because Changbin is (to some degree) a decent man.

"I need you." You keep your voice low, running your hands down his chest before dragging one up to run your fingers through his hair. "Please?"

You tilt your head, watching as he swallows down whatever reservations he has. He looks over you carefully, leaving you to try to not squirm under an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes.

"Fuck, okay yeah I've got you." His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, a gravelly tone overtaking his words. “I’ll make you feel better, the best.” 

And maybe he’s thought about it before, whether it was before you and Yeonjun started your (now regrettable) relationship, or if this was something he had been holding close, a secret that would’ve torn him and Yeonjun’s friendship apart– maybe it’s why he barely put up a fight. 

His lips are back on yours, still tentative and a little stiff but you didn’t mind, if anything your ministrations are a mirror image. Unlike some people, you’ve been loyal in your relationship and the nerves of kissing someone new after all this time was beginning to ricochet through your body, your heartbeat turning into a frantic staccato.

“Bin.” You rasp, not sure what you’re trying to say or maybe ask.

“I told you, I’ve got you.” He tugs off his hoodie then shirt before pulling off yours, goosebumps chasing after where his hands trail along your exposed skin. He manages to make quick work of your clothes, stopping you from helping in any way and allowing you to admire the way his muscles jump and move as he undresses you.

He keeps you in his lap, now stripped bare while he sits in his gray sweats with a less than conspicuous tent forming in them. You feel your mouth dry with anticipation, with nerves.

“Kiss me.” And he obeys, licking into your mouth eagerly, whatever hesitation held before long gone. It’s easy falling into Changbin’s ministrations, soothing in a way you can’t explain, and most of all, thrilling to be so craved. 

You press yourself against him, unable to stifle the shiver at the sensation of heated skin against heated skin, delighting in the way he kneads his calloused fingers up your thighs. Your mind races with anticipation, trying not to let the fact it’s been weeks, maybe closer to months since you’ve gotten any action.

Before you can even register it, he’s pushing you away, maneuvering you until your back is against his chest and your legs are forced to fall apart as they land on either side of his.

“Better this way.” He grunts, a hand coming up to cup at your breast while the other drags up your inner thigh. 

“Changbin.” You snake a hand back until you're gripping the back of his head, dragging him forward enough to catch his bottom lip with your teeth. “Hurry.”

Mercifully he wastes no time, bringing thick fingers up to your mouth and obediently your lips fall open. Pinning your gaze to his you make a show of flattening your tongue against his digits and dragging the muscle upwards oh so slowly. 

“Fucking, you-”

He interrupts himself, lips diving forward to meet yours, his tongue shoving into your mouth with reckless abandon. He swallows down each and every little moan and whine he draws out of you.

But with far more finesse his fingers press against your entrance, deftly circling and coaxing. At long last, he presses a single digit inside of you, slowly yet insistent; he’s surprisingly attentive, waiting for and listening to each demand of your body as he explores you so languidly.

“Faster, faster.” You’re not above begging, not here and definitely not now, bucking your hips to try and make him hear your pleas.

His other arm snakes around your waist, tightening just enough to keep you flush against him and barely able to move. 

“Let me take care of you.” He chases the words with a peck to your cheek and It’s startlingly nice, the words and affection almost unfamiliar. Maybe your relationship has long since fizzled out, unable to remember the last time someone had been this gentle and mindful during sex.

If you didn’t know better you’d think Changbin might be in love with you.

The thought melts away the moment he pushes two of his fingers into you, gasping at the sudden stretch but thankful for him picking up the pace.

You feel like putty in his hands, enjoying the tension in your shoulders being replaced by that telltale tension deep in your belly. Each drag of his fingers has you melting further into him, letting yourself be consumed as you sigh his name. 

Annoyingly he retracts his fingers, placating the whine in your throat with a quick kiss to your pulsepoint. He helps you shift in his lap, until you’re facing each other once more and you’re left trying not to melt under his fiery gaze.

Your eyes flutter down his chest, until you’re looking directly at the now blatant tent in his sweats. You bite back a groan.

“Oh.” You move to straddle him properly, adjusting so there’s just enough room between your bodies that you can hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and with a little assistance you manage to free his cock from the cotton confines.

You hook your nails into the meat of his shoulder, grinning when he winces as your other hand comes down to press his cock against your dripping cunt. 

“Shit, hold on, condom?” He looks a little sad to ask, likely annoyed by the extra step.

“No, m’clean I got tested…haven’t even, oh!” He nips at your throat. “…Haven’t let him touch me, you?”

“I’m good.” And you trust him, despite it all you don’t mind trusting Changbin. Besides, there’s plenty of things you’re regretting right now, what’s another for down the road? Though you highly doubt you’ll regret anything and everything Changbin could do to you.

“C’mon then pretty, ride me.” He brings his hands under the backs of your thighs, offering support but making no move to help you any further.

You tease your hole against the head of his cock, tongue caught between your teeth as you slowly begin to sink down. A stifling heat starts to curl through you, searing through your limbs and cutting across your face and building a sweat across your brow.

“Fuck! You’re so fuckin’ big, ah!” And maybe while Yeonjun beats Changbin out in length, he can’t begin to compare in girth.

The moment you’re fully seated on his cock you take a second to come to terms with the fact you're being split in two, the thickness unprecedented and dizzying and it takes every fiber of your being to not cum immediately. You squeeze your eyes shut, the hand settled on his shoulder tightening until your knuckles go white. 

Changbin takes this as an invitation to pepper kisses along your chest, letting his teeth graze along your shoulder and tongue dance across your throat. You find yourself relaxing under his attention, embarrassingly soothed in a few measly seconds by his lips against your skin. 

“Sexy.” He has the audacity to wink at you, and a weak chuckle escapes you as you wiggle your hips just enough to force a choked moan out of the both of you.

But it’s enough to have you brace yourself, not wanting to waste anymore time, hands coming down to grip at his solid forearms to bring yourself up an inch and sink back down. It sends a shock up your spine and you repeat the motion, again and again. 

You gather your energy, testing your leg strength today and properly starting to bounce on his cock, letting wanton moans and desperate whines fall freely from your lips.

“S’good, so damn good for me.” He grinds out. “You like fucking me more? Huh?”

You're hypnotized by the look in his eyes, always fascinated by the way that Changbin has always been candid with his emotions, how easy he can be to read when he puts down his shields. And now you have a front row view to a smoldering lust burning bright in those brown eyes, leaving you to wonder if it’s always been there. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You tug at his arms, silently begging for more, until his hands move to grip at your waist. “It’s better, better with y-you, Bin.”

“He’s so damn stupid, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby.” Ruthlessly he quickens the pace, forcing you towards the edge. Your vision starts to go a little fuzzy, that unmistakable tightness coiling in your belly becoming almost unbearable. 

“O-Oh fuck, Changbin!” Pleasure tears through you, a few borderline painful steps past mindblowing and you wonder if you passed out for a second. 

Faintly you hear the telltale click of the front door opening. 

[diamonddaze01]

[3:27 AM]

Pairing: lc x reader | wc: 1.1k au: criminal minds au | warnings: mentions of people getting hurt a/n: based on an ask from my 101 drabble prompt game! // surprise i have decided to turn this into a drabble series bc i love criminal minds and i love lee chan so it’s only natural

The insistent knocking at your door at 3 AM could only mean one thing: Lee Chan was about to ruin your night. Again.

You groaned, the harsh thumping reverberating through your bones. It was past 3 AM, and you had a flight to catch in a few hours for another high-risk case. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on your chest. You had been barely catching a few hours of sleep in between case files, strategy meetings, and debriefings. But of course, Chan—your insufferable, impossible rival at the BAU—had to make an appearance now, ruining whatever tiny shred of rest you could scrape together.

You briefly debated ignoring it—he’d leave if you waited long enough, right? But the knocking only grew louder, more demanding, until it felt like the walls themselves were shaking with the force of it. With a frustrated sigh, you shoved the blanket aside, letting the cold air of the apartment hit your skin as you dragged yourself out of bed. The room smelled faintly of coffee and stale paperwork, the remnants of a long day.

“God, I swear to God, if it’s another case…” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your tired eyes.

You swung the door open, barely suppressing the irritation that bubbled up in your chest. The sight of him, standing there in a BAU hoodie, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes, made your blood boil instantly. His hoodie smelled like his usual cologne mixed with the scent of a rushed flight—a mix of sweat and caffeine—and you realized, with a sinking feeling, he hadn’t even bothered to look presentable.

“What the hell, Chan?” you snapped, your words a little sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. The exhaustion was wearing on your nerves.

He blinked, his wide eyes—normally so full of cocky arrogance—filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Worry? Guilt? His usual bravado was nowhere to be found.

“I... I needed to make sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice unusually low.

You blinked at him, confused, still half asleep. “What?”

His gaze flickered away for a moment, and you noticed the way his hand fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie. A nervous habit, something you’d never seen him do. "I had a nightmare,” he admitted, almost sheepishly.

“A nightmare?” Your brow furrowed. "And you thought waking me up at 3 AM was the best solution?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself, his eyes shadowed by something darker than the fatigue you both shared. "It wasn’t just any nightmare." His voice cracked slightly, and for a second, you weren’t sure if he was going to continue.

But then he did, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was about you.”

You felt a chill run down your spine, despite the heat of the apartment. You tried to brush it off, but it was too late. His words lingered in the air, thick and heavy.

“Me?” you repeated, incredulous. "You had a nightmare... about me?"

Chan nodded once, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets as if he was trying to hide from something you couldn’t quite understand. The cocky, competitive Chan you knew so well—the one who always put you in second place on every case, who made you fight tooth and nail to keep up with him—was suddenly nowhere to be found.

“Yeah. It felt... real,” he muttered, his gaze flickering away. “We were chasing that unsub last week in that warehouse, and you—you got hurt.” He paused, the words choking him slightly, and for the first time, you saw that the normally unflappable Chan had something real on his mind. “I couldn’t get to you in time. I couldn’t protect you.”

You froze. The air between you felt suddenly thick, charged with an emotion neither of you had ever voiced out loud. He was standing there, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable, and you—well, you weren’t sure how to respond. You opened your mouth to say something sharp, something biting, but nothing came out. Instead, you found yourself staring at him, not sure where to place the sudden tenderness you felt creeping up.

“Chan, this is insane.” You crossed your arms, though the action felt more like a defense than anything else. You couldn’t quite make sense of the situation. “We’re agents. We know the risks. This is what we signed up for.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But you’re not just anyone. You’ve had my back when no one else would. You think I’m just supposed to act like I don’t care?”

His eyes met yours, something raw and unspoken passing between the two of you. The usual banter, the sharp edge of competition, had dissolved into something... softer. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all seemed, but you couldn’t. You felt your heart thud, unexpectedly heavy in your chest. You had spent years trying to keep things between the two of you cold, professional—just another rivalry between agents vying for the same promotions, for the same cases. But this? This felt different.

You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” you said, trying to sound like you normally did. But the words came out more strained than you intended. "I’m fine, Chan. I’ll always be fine."

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back away like you expected. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze steady, unyielding. His presence in your apartment felt almost suffocating now, like the tension between you was finally breaking, like something had shifted—and you weren’t sure if you wanted it to.

“I don’t want to be just your rival anymore,” he muttered. “Not with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t know how to process that. You wanted to argue, to shove him away and pretend nothing had changed. But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

“Well,” you began, the words coming out slowly, unsure, “I don’t need you to baby me.”

Chan’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I’m not trying to.” His voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now. “I’m trying to say that I care.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the dim light of your apartment, staring at the man who had been your rival for so long. The cold air from the hallway had long since seeped inside, but you were no longer cold.

Finally, you let out a sigh, stepping back, breaking the tension, just a little. “Fine. But only because you're annoying.”

He chuckled, the sound softer than usual, more genuine. “I’ll take it.”

You watched him stand there for a moment, before the gravity of it all hit you. Lee Chan—the arrogant, cocky agent who always outshone you in the field—had just shown up at your door at 3 AM, not with a case file or a new lead, but with something deeper, something raw. And maybe, just maybe, it was time you stopped pretending it didn’t matter.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[enchanteleclerc]

strawberries and cream 🂱 cs55

genre: 18+, literally pwp, fem!reader who’s the sister of carlos’ best friend?? LMAO

word count: 2.5k

You seem to enjoy the company of your brother’s best friend. Especially right now, over some breakfast of pancakes, thinking you may never look at strawberries and cream the same.

a/n … idk how my last post did pretty well but thank u all for the support !! still learning how to write smut (and write in general bc i never write in uni 💀) this was heavily inspired by that one serena and nate scene i hope u guys know which one i’m talking ab :))

warnings … penetrative sex, semi public sex, dirty talk (degradation and praise), unprotected sex, food, rough ish sex?

-

You don’t remember when it started. The butterflies, the stolen glances across a room. Ever since you could remember, Carlos was always around. But he wasn’t here for you; you had to remind yourself. Your brother’s best friend. And yet, neither of you could deny the tension between you both. The way your fingers brushed when you handed him your plate, offering to wash it for you after dinner, caused you to subconsciously hold your breath. ”Need some help?” Sauntering into the kitchen where Carlos was washing the dishes. You don’t miss how his lips turned into a smile upon seeing you. Picking up the dishes he just washed, you began drying them beside him, taking quick looks at him from the side of your eye but making sure he doesn’t see. Flipping a plate over, you accidentally splash him with water. Your hands immediately went to your mouth to apologise, but you couldn’t help the giggles pouring from you. “Yeah? You think that’s funny?” He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you still while turning the tap towards you, soaking the white oversized shirt you wore. Pleading for mercy, to which he loosened his grip, you retaliated by turning the tap onto him. Stepping through the puddle of water you both caused, he turned off the tap. ”Truce?” He sticks out his pinky for you to shake, which you take happily. Pinkies interlocked, you look up at him, still giggling, but the giggles dissipate when you look into his big brown eyes. His eyes held yours for a moment before travelling down your body to the white shirt that had gone translucent and stuck to your body, leaving almost nothing to imagination apart from your bra and panties. Carlos’ clothes were no better. His grey shirt had darkened and stuck to his torso, revealing the lines and curves of his toned stomach. ”What the fuck?” Your brother’s voice echoed between Carlos and you as if a strike of lightning. You both jumped away from each other but still connected through your pinkies. As if there was an invisible piece of string connecting you both. Clearing your throat and crossing your arms over your chest to hide yourself, you announce that you were heading up for bed, unwilling to let go of Carlos’ hand. You wonder how you could possibly fall asleep knowing that Carlos would be in the room beside yours. The answer to that question was reluctantly. However, you eventually fell asleep to Carlos’ light snores through the thin walls of the house. And the moment the snoring ceased, so did the little sleep you received. Early in the morning, you heard a door open. Well aware of your family’s ability to sleep into the late hours of the morning, you knew whose door that was. You were suddenly wide awake and wanting to run out your door to see him. Needing to regain some dignity after letting him see you basically half-naked yesterday, you decided against leaving your room immediately. After what you believed was enough time, you found yourself walking downstairs into the kitchen, where a figure was rummaging through the fridge. Despite only being able to see his back, you knew who it was, of course. That was a back you caught your eyes lingering on many times. The way his muscles flexed through the thin shirt had you in a trance. “You’re up early.” He returned the milk carton to the fridge before turning around to see you. You simply hummed back because you couldn’t form coherent thoughts when Carlos looked like this. Sleepy eyes looking back at you from the opposite end of the island, slightly obstructed by his hair that was messy and looked somewhat damp from a shower, you assumed. His voice, raspy from the morning, had your knees buckling. You sit on the island's counter to avoid the embarrassment of passing out simply because he spoke. ”Wow. He cooks and cleans. Is there anything you can’t do, Mr Sainz?” Your eyes flitted from the stack of freshly cooked pancakes to Carlos. His eyes unmistakably darkened at your use of “Mr Sainz”, but his head still shook with a low chuckle, placing his hand on your bare thigh. Picking a strawberry out of the bowl of toppings, you lean towards Carlos. He opens his mouth instinctively to accept the sweet fruit out of your hand, keeping his eyes focused on you and the way you bit your lip when the juice of the strawberry leaked from his lips. His eye contact broke only when your hand reached up to wipe the juice dripping down his chin with your thumb, only to place the thumb in your own mouth to suck off the juice. His eyes connect with yours again, and your close proximity is not lost on either of you. Your hand rests on his flushed cheek, the light stubble scratching your hand as his chest rises and falls. Carlos hums before wrapping his hands around your thighs to pull you towards the edge of the counter and moving in between your legs. Your faces were so close you could feel his warm breath from his slightly parted lips. He looked so pretty, like a prince straight out of Disney that you would have obsessed over when you were younger. You could’ve sworn you saw Carlos’ resolve crumble around you as his hands moved from your thighs to your head to catch your lips in a suffocating kiss. Years of sexual tension between you and Carlos finally being resolved had your head spinning in a whirlwind of lips, wandering hands and the taste of strawberries. The sudden action caused a squeal to leave your lips as your body connected with his, warm and hard. The feeling of his body in between your legs with your oversized shirt riding up and his clothed cock hardening for you from every minuscule movement you made, simply to find more friction and provoke him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one arm reaching for his back, feeling the tensing muscles through his thin shirt, the other tugging slightly at the hair on the back of his neck, eliciting a silent moan from his mouth. His lips move from yours to your neck, letting your head fall back, and your legs wrap around his torso. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging slightly before he tugs it over his head, revealing his perfectly toned body, lightly speckled with hair. His lips are on yours again before his hands rest on your hips, inviting you to move them against him. You gasped at the feeling of him right where you needed him, and he used your gasp to delve deeper into your mouth. His fingers grip your hips and pull your shirt up for a better view. The feeling of the cold air and his hands on your overheating body stimulate you beyond belief. You pulled away from the kiss to breathe and look down at the way you slot in perfectly with him. Carlos tilts your head to look at him and lets his thumb rub your swollen and bitten lips. Your lips attach to the skin of his chest, placing light kisses moving down his stomach. “Fuck. Need to feel your lips around me.” he groaned deeply before you pushed yourself off the counter. You find yourself on your knees for him pulling down his grey sweatpants and boxers to reveal his cock spring up. It was intimidating how big he was. If you weren’t so needy, you would’ve made a cliche comment about his size, but there was no need; Carlos already knew. He could tell by your face and subsequently chuckled. Looking up at him through half-lidded eyes while you stroke it, you observe the way his head falls back for a moment from the pleasure before landing back on you, focusing intently on what you’re doing as if he would rather die than miss this. His eyes bore into your own, but not with the chocolate brown colour you know so well. A darker tint of brown has invaded, causing your thighs to clench together. You place the head of his cock in your mouth. The warm feel of it causes an involuntary moan in you that is reciprocated by Carlos. His hand wrapped around your hair, guiding you along his cock and allowing you to take it in full. Caressing it with your tongue, Carlos’ grip on your hair tightened as the muscles in his legs clenched. Carlos has spent so long seeing you flaunt in short skirts and cropped tops around your house. Spent so long watching your long legs as you walked or when you crossed your legs as you sat. Carlos remembers the day he started feeling like this towards you. It was a hot summer day, and he volunteered to drive you and your brother to get ice cream. Seeing the way you lapped up the ice cream as it dripped down your hand and the moan you let out when the cold liquid touched your tongue haunted Carlos’ dreams for weeks. Dreams that resulted in him having to take a long, cold shower. On the drive home from the ice cream parlour, Carlos was silent and painfully hard in his pants as he avoided looking at you in the rearview mirror unless they wanted to completely drive off the road. Carlos couldn’t believe this wasn’t one of his many dreams. You were real and kneeling before him, letting him fuck your pretty little throat. Your cheeks hollowed and wrapped around him tightly before pulling it out and letting your tongue swirl around the tip, catching all the pre cum. Carlos’ small groans start speeding up, as does your mouth on his cock, but he pulls you away using your hair. ”Need to be inside you.” His hands find their way around your thighs again to lift you up and place you back onto the edge of the counter, ripping your panties off and discarding them somewhere in the kitchen. Dipping his finger in the bowl of whipped cream left for forgotten pancakes, he draws a line on the inside of your thigh, stopping before the apex and letting you suck the whipped cream off his finger. Your back connected with the cool surface of the kitchen island, unable to take this amount of pleasure as Carlos dropped his head between your thighs and began lapping up the whipped cream. The frustrated groan you released when Carlos’ tongue stopped before he reached your heat was disrupted when you felt him drag the tip of his cock up and down your needy folds with ease from how slick you were. Your hips rutted towards his, needing him inside you or at least some friction. Finally, he began pushing, feeding his cock into you. Your eyes clenched closed at the overwhelming pressure you felt. No other boy had stretched you out like this, but none of them were Carlos Sainz. The shared moan that left both your mouths once he bottomed out inside you was intoxicating. You shiver momentarily at the loss when he pulls out of you, but all was forgotten as he slams back into you again He was everywhere— around you, inside you. So overwhelmingly good you understood why you waited so long for this. ”Faster, please” Carlos’ grip on your hips tightened, hearing you begging for him, happily speeding up his pace, hearing your little whimpers from every movement. His hand reaches up to grab your tits, kneading and flicking your nipple to perfection. Carlos had to restrain himself from cumming when he saw how sensitive your nipples were and how you responded to him. ”Fuck you’re perfect. This pretty cunt— so wet. all this for me?” His hand left your tits to attack your clit, rubbing in small circles that had you throwing your head back in pleasure. “Answer me.” He ceased his movements on your clit and began thrusting agonisingly slow. You tried moving your hips to find some friction, but his hands pressed your hips into the counter to stop you from moving. ”Fuck Carlos. It’s all for you. It’s always been you.” Carlos sped up once more. Faster than before. Faster than you thought was humanly possible. The sound of an alarm clock upstairs caught you off guard, the thought of someone— let alone your brother finding you like this. Fucking his best friend. And yet, the tightening feeling in your core didn’t disappear but got stronger. ”Please, can I cum?” He slows down, staving off your orgasm. Unable to move your own hips, Carlos set the pace, and apparently, Carlos did not care that someone could walk downstairs at any moment. He wanted to relish in this moment. The feeling of you beneath him and begging for release. He wanted this image to be ingrained into his memory for the rest of his life. “Cum for me, cariño.” Your legs shaking and releasing a moan that was much too loud for comfort, your orgasm hit you at full force. His hand slammed over your mouth to prevent anyone from hearing, although Carlos would love for the whole neighbourhood to hear you scream his name. His thrusts didn’t cease through your orgasm. Instead, they sped up. Twitching inside of you, he asks where you want it. ”Inside me, please. Fill me up.” Mumbling behind Carlos’ hand that was still firmly over your mouth and was now covered in your spit. Without warning, you felt it. Like a warm flood within you, pushed around by Carlos’ slow thrusts. His cum trickled down your thigh when he pulled out, and you both stood there in silence, listening to each other’s heavy breathing. Footsteps walking down the stairs sprung you both into action, however. Wide eyed for a moment before frantically adjusting your shirt back on and Carlos pulling up his sweatpants with no time for his shirt. ”Morning.” Your brother rubbed his eyes as you and Carlos stood behind the island. No panties on you. No shirt on Carlos. Both were discarded somewhere in the kitchen and soon to be found by your brother. “What are you guys doing? Where’s your shirt, mate?” Your brother’s eyes went between Carlos and you as you pretended to just notice that Carlos had no shirt on. ”Oh, pancakes. You want some?” Your brother offering you as if he was the one that made it. You shook your head before seeing the way your brother loaded his pancakes up with strawberries and whipped cream. You had to bite your lip to hold in a laugh as Carlos’ cheeks flushed. Walking behind your brother, you find your panties and Carlos’ shirt, sending him a wink before walking back upstairs with the clothing items in hand. Leaving Carlos to deal with your brother and the pancakes that were now cold.

-

[luvst4rc0r3]

“All the weight I’ll ever carry”

Ekko x Chubby!Reader

WARNINGS:None

WC:883

NOTE: Erm this is kinda abt me bc I’m chubby and I just wanted to feel good abt myself🙏 ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

“Alright, hear me out,” Ekko began, his voice carrying that playful lilt that always spelled trouble. He stood in front of you, hands on his hips, sweat glistening from his earlier workout. The makeshift gym around you wasn’t much—a couple of weights, an old mat, and the creaking remnants of a bench press—but Ekko’s grin was enough to make the dim place feel like home.

You narrowed your eyes at him, already suspicious. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He chuckled, walking closer to where you sat on a pile of blankets and cushions that had somehow turned into your spot in the Firelights’ hideout. “C’mon, give me some credit. It’s not that bad.”

“Spit it out, hun.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating for just a second before meeting your eyes. “I wanna see if I can do push-ups… with you on my back.”

You blinked. Then blinked again.

“Ekko,” you said slowly, trying to figure out if you’d misheard him. “You want me to sit on your back while you do push-ups?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was the most normal request in the world. “I’ve been working on my strength, and you’re, y’know… the perfect test.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Perfect test?”

He winced, quickly waving his hands in defense. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re just—you’re strong! I mean, not, like, heavy—just, like—ugh.” He groaned, running a hand down his face. “I’m digging a hole here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” you said, biting back a smile.

“Let me start over,” he said, his tone softer now. “I just… thought it’d be fun. And, I don’t know, it’s like I’d be carrying you. Feels kinda symbolic, doesn’t it?”

That caught you off guard. His words weren’t as slick as he probably thought they were, but something about the honesty in his tone made your chest tighten.

“Symbolic, huh?” you murmured, standing up. “Alright, hun. Let’s see if you can handle it.”

His eyes lit up like a kid at a candy shop. “Really?”

“Really. But if you drop me, I’m never letting you live it down.”

“Deal,” he said, already lying down on the mat and bracing his hands against the floor.

You hesitated for a moment as you walked over, suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. “You sure about this?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “I’m not exactly…light”

He turned his head to look up at you, his gaze softening in a way that made your cheeks heat. “Hey,” he said gently. “I’m sure. You’re perfect, okay? Trust me.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart skip, and you nodded, carefully lowering yourself to sit on his back. He shifted slightly, adjusting to your weight, and you bit your lip.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Better than alright,” he replied, glancing back at you with a grin. “You ready?”

“Me? You’re the one doing all the work.”

He laughed, the sound rumbling through his body beneath you, and then he started.

The first push-up was smooth, his arms steady as he lifted you both off the ground. You couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh.

“Okay, not bad,” you said, leaning forward a little.

“Told you,” he replied, his voice slightly strained but full of determination.

He kept going, each movement strong and deliberate. You could feel the effort in his muscles, the way his body tensed and released beneath you, but he didn’t falter. Not once.

“You’re really doing it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him.

“Told you I’d carry you,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, but there was no teasing in it—just a quiet kind of sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way.

By the time he hit twenty push-ups, his breath was heavier, his movements slower, but he didn’t stop until he’d done five more. Finally, with one last push, he let himself collapse gently to the mat, careful not to jostle you.

“Alright,” he panted, turning his head to look up at you. “That’s all I’ve got.”

You slid off his back, sitting beside him on the mat. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said softly, brushing a curl of his white hair out of his face.

He looked at you, his chest still rising and falling with each breath. “Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “You carry me all the time, y’know? With everything you do. This… this was nothing compared to that.”

Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Ekko…”

He grinned, reaching out to take your hand. “What? I’m just saying the truth.”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you squeezed his hand, letting your fingers tangle with his.

“Alright, Firefly,” you said, your voice warm. “But next time, you’re letting me carry you somehow.”

He laughed, bright and full of life, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world was just the two of you. “Deal,” he said, his smile softening as he looked at you. “But for now… just stay here a little longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, leaning into his side. “I can do that.”

And for a while, you stayed like that—his hand in yours, his heart still racing beneath your touch, and the weight of the world feeling just a little lighter.

YALL THIS STORY IS BC IM FEELING NOT THE BEST ABT MY WEIGHT RN😞

ANYWAYS

I want food (That’s kinda ironic)

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

༺═──────────────═༻

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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[breadbrobin]

“in every other universe”

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: luke said he’d love you in every other universe. luke was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

warnings: ANGST, kissing, mentions of canon typical violence, use of pet names, so much angst bro omg

word count: 1.0k

(i wrote this AGES ago like around episode three so don’t come at me for it being a lil different to how he acts in the finale ok i did my best and i didn’t wanna change too much bc i love it)

—————————————

“do you think we’re together in every universe?”

it was a quiet question. one that luke’s ears could barely pick up through the murmurs of the hermes cabin and the whistling of the wind outside. your breath was right against his cheek though, and your whispered question carried to him.

he frowned. “what do you mean?”

“like,” he could hear you shifting to face him, and he looked over at you, seeing the outline of your features in the dark. “in every other universe where we exist—as whatever we exist as—do you think we met? became friends? then fell in love too?”

he was quiet for a moment, turning his head back to look up at the bunk above him. “yeah. i think we find each other in every universe. i don’t think even the fabric of time and space itself could tear us apart.”

he could hear your soft giggle through the night. “really?”

“really.” he rolled to face you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “not even the gods could tear us apart, baby. not the gods, not the universe itself, nothing.”

he punctuated his words with soft kisses, only stopping when you smiled and yawned tiredly.

“i love you,” you whispered, shifting closer and tucking your head under his chin.

he kissed your hair, warmth growing in his chest as it always did around you, especially on nights where you’d sneak into his bunk to fall asleep together, limbs tangled, hair messy, sleep in your eyes. “i love you too.” his voice was a whisper, barely audible. he said it like a prayer, a reverent statement that made you feel like the most loved person in the universe—in any universe. you wondered if all of your other iterations loved him like you did. if all of your other versions of yourself were as deeply, irrevocably in love with this boy who had you wrapped in his arms and wrapped around his fingers. you didn’t used to believe in fate and destiny. luke helped you see that he was yours.

in every other universe, you thought bitterly. i hope every other universe is happier than this.

luke had left. he was gone. long gone.

he’d came to see you, begging you on your knees to join him, to leave with him.

“please, my love, he can give us whatever we want. we can live forever, immortal in this new world that he will build us!” his eyes had been frantic, pleading… broken.

you had gotten to his level, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheeks softly. “luke…”

“baby, he will give us anything,” he’d begged. “anything. just come with me.”

you had shaken your head, kissed his lips one last time. your own were salty with tears. “he’s poisoned your mind, luke.”

“the gods have poisoned your mind,” he sneered. “they are responsible for everything. all the pain, all the unclaimed kids, this—“ he jabbed a finger at the scar on his face. “—and all the death that came with it.”

“and you think titans will be better? luke, don’t do this.”

“it’s already done,” he said, his voice stronger. “come with me. together in every universe. this will be the only one that matters anymore, baby. come with me.”

“no.” that was all you’d had to say.

his face crumbled. bitterness and regret filled his eyes, and for a second, you thought he might change his mind. you thought he might stay with you.

you were wrong.

he’d stood up, looking down at you with eyes colder than you’d ever seen. you’d always known luke could be volatile. he was too controlled sometimes, when he shouldn’t be, like he was always holding something back. his sword-fighting was too restrained, and yet too good. there was a balance there that was impossible to achieve unless you’d seen both sides—weak and strong, powerless and entirely powerful. you understood now what that was. you’d never been scared of him before.

he towered over you. “fine. you’ve made your choice. don’t come crying to us when you change your mind.”

the way he said ‘us’ sent a shiver down your spine. you felt nauseous as you kneeled there in front of him, not even feeling strong enough to stand up.

“i love you,” you whispered as he drew his sword.

he faltered for a moment, then his jaw clenched. “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be betraying me like this.”

as the hilt of his sword hit your temple, memories flashed through your head—of sharing strawberries and kissing under trees, of skipping stones on the shore and sneaking into each others bunks when you couldn’t sleep. years of friendship, then love… all destroyed with the hit of a blade’s hilt. you wondered, who was really the traitor here? it didn’t feel like you.

when you’d woken up, you were in the infirmary. chiron was just outside with the new kid, percy jackson. annabeth was sitting beside you, holding your hand, tears in her eyes.

when she saw you were awake, she squeezed your hand and helped you sit up.

“he’s gone?” you asked weakly.

she nodded, her eyes filling with bitter tears again. “yeah. he… he attacked percy too. while everyone was celebrating. he…” she trailed off and shook her head. “he betrayed all of us. i should have seen it coming. i should have…”

you shook your head. how could he be so cruel? how could you not have noticed? it wasn’t annabeth’s job to—it wasn’t yours either, sure, but you’d seen the signs months ago. you should have seen how things would end. you should have done something sooner. you should have, you should have, you should have.

out loud, you said nothing, just opened your arms for annabeth to fall into. you both needed someone, but the person you both needed was nowhere to be found.

it wasn’t fair.

you didn’t know what was coming next, but you knew that luke’s soul was intertwined with yours, in whatever way it ended up being. he’d said once that you were his anchor, his reason to live after his failed quest… so why couldn’t you be his reason to stay? why couldn’t he have loved you more, loved you like he said he didn’t in every other universe, and stayed?

why, why, why? you feared you would find yourself asking that question until the day you died.

[tmwcs]

Bad Boy

Warnings: reader experiences sexual harassment/potential assault from an unnamed ex-bc, rough smut, smut with a stranger, implied creampie, breeding kink…

Who is the bad boy? 😏

She’s a good girl, crazy about Elvis. Loves horses, and her boyfriend too…

I’m a bad boy…for breaking her heart.

Tonight was the night when the major football game took place. It was a make it or break it moment for your college football team as the game would dictate and highlight the most select players to be drafted for professional football. You and your friends joined up and gathered around the best set of bleachers. You had to. Your boyfriend was the team's quarterback and you had to be in the front row to cheer him on.

Things had been edgy between you two. The ongoing arguments were likely a result of the stress of tonight’s game and finals combined. It was more arduous for him, as he was in his final year of college, whereas you had just barely begun. Still, the hardship of maintaining a relationship and your grades wasn’t easy, regardless that you were a newbie to campus.

The score was close, yet in the end, your boyfriends team emerged victorious and earned their way towards a bright future.

He drives you back to your dorm, where both your friends would meet up for some drinks, or so you thought.

“Let’s hang tight and have some one-on -one time after everyone leaves.” He tells you. You felt a bit uneasy, considering he was giving you that look when you both had barely spoken to each other.

Left alone with him on the bleachers, you started the conversation, trying to establish closure.

“Look, I’m sorry about the fights. I know we haven’t really spoken much, and only made up yesterday but I want you to know I am very proud of you.”

He looks over but doesn’t make any effort to converse back, instead he hums a hollow tune as he begins to pull the sleeves of your dress downward. “Wait! What are you—“

He doesn’t even make eye contact, instead he becomes rather forceful in all the wrong ways. “Come on you like it when I’m rough.”

You used to…

Back before the arguments, you used to dig the idea of your boyfriend tossing you around and going all in like a Viking while you took it. But this time was different, you didn’t really feel that strongly for him anymore. It was something you wanted to refrain from bringing up until later, but now seemed to be the time to let him know that…

“I think we should break up…”

“What?”

“I…I know about what you did with…with her.”

Yeah. Maintaining a relationship is hard when you’re studying and trying to earn top grades. But it’s a lot harder when rumors of your boyfriend's infidelity becomes a popularized topic among your peers. To make the wound deep was that it was with your best friend that he was conducting the affair with. Last night, you saw the photos on her phone after she passed out, and as angry as you were, you didn’t have the heart to force any type of drama until after the big game.

“Okay…so I slept with her a few times. But I promise it was only during your periods.”

You shot a scorned look. “I saw the dates in the pictures.” Hinting at the timeline not meeting up, he sighed as he continued while you did your best to shove him off.

“Stop…I said stop!”

You began shouting when suddenly, a popping sensation stung your cheek. You were shocked as you realized he had just slapped you, but it didn’t become reality until the tangy taste of blood dripped from your lip.

He pushes you down and takes advantage of your short floral dress, and positions himself in between your legs as he rushes to undo his belt. You yell out and flare a series of kicks as you try to get away, yet he overpowers your attempts as he pins his weight down on your body. Plastering the sides of your face with his kisses, you shove and sneered away as you continued with your attempts, though it was all futile. Exhaustion begins to take over and you sense the horrifying loss as you feel the tip of his member poking your inner thigh as he tears your panties.

Suddenly…

“What the—“

The weight of his frame is lifted so abruptly off you as you face forward and gain a clear vision of what was going on.

“Get the fuck ou—“

The sound of your boyfriend's voice is halted still and shut as you hear the audio smack of knuckle meeting his jaw, or perhaps it was his cheek. It happened so fast that you couldn’t make out the difference, all you know was that you saw the one that conducted the deed.

Flinging him off as if your boyfriend was a ragdoll, you watched as the strong arms of your savior become tender as he leans forward and kneels, presenting you a hand. He doesn’t say a word, instead he nods as he implies for you to take it. He pulls you back up on your own two feet, and rushes you under his arm while he takes you back to his car nearby. The slight bit of cigarette smoke and the musk of his cologne mixed together impaled your nostrils as he opened the door and tucks you in the front passenger seat.

You recognized him. He was in the same year as your boyfriend…or former boyfriend actually. He was somewhat of an outcast, not one that you ever really conversed with though you normally spotted him hanging out at the bleachers smoking and joking with his equally delinquent friends. Dressed in jeans, a fitted tee with a flannel over shirt left unbuttoned, it was obvious that he wasn’t dressing to impress anyone.

He starts the old steel vehicle and drives off. Once he hit the main road, he finally spoke.

“Where’s your dorm? I’ll take you there.”

You shook your head as you started to sob once more, only quietly this time. Fingering the shredded tatters of your dress, you hang your head low as the silky strands drape over, hiding your face. “Please…just take me to the airport. I can’t be here….everyone is at my dorm and I don’t want to see anyone…I just want to go back to my home.”

He doesn’t say a word. The sound of the steering wheel turning left, then right, was all the noise that filled the entire car ride until finally he puts it in park.

He really took you to the airport?

“Come on.” He sighs as he hops out and opens the door for you.

“This…where are we?”

“We’re in my frat home.”

“F-frat? You’re a part of a fraternity?” Your surprised tone causes him to smirk as he walks you to the front door. “Yeah, I know.” He nods, already aware of the presumptive appeal that is otherwise an irony. “I’m a bad boy, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

You’re not sure what made you even more confused, the fact that the college delinquent belonged to a frat or that he actually earned decent grades and was a promising student.

He walks you to his room quietly as he fixes the bed. “You sleep here.” Grabbing onto a spare comforter, he makes his own little nest on the small loveseat on the opposite end. You felt so humbled at the fact that the man was willing to lend you his bed while he prepared to sleep on such a small couch, considering his height and stature.

“Thank you…but I really don’t want to inconvenience you. I feel a lot better now, I think I should leave you alone. I don’t want to be trouble and get you involved—“

“I want to be involved.” His tone was deep and somewhat hoarse as he smiles, switching his gaze down to the floor before making their way back to you. “I’ve been wanting to get involved ever since I first saw you at the bleachers…when you came for orientation.”

His confession made your heart melt as you raised your eyebrows with peak interest. “Y-you did?”

He nods. It never occurred to you that you would catch the eye of a delinquent, just like you never realized that closeup, the man was actually quite handsome.

His lengthy strands delicately framed his brows as he steps closer.

“I…” he begins before taking a slight pause. “I can turn your night around…and do it the right way, unlike that scumbag.” He proposes.

At any other given time, you’re quite sure you would have rejected, regardless how dashing he may have appeared. But with the way he came to your aid and was presenting you the opportunity to consent, your heart faltered. “…show me.” You whispered.

He softly rubs your cheek as he swipes the dried blood from your lip. “It’s going to hurt…and I’m going to fuck you hard…remember, I’m a bad boy. There are no…safe…words…y/n.”

He knew your name.

You felt the tingle ringing in between your legs as he outlined the aggression of his passion and proposal. To hell with soft sex anyhow, you wanted it.

“Please…show me. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. Just turn this night around.”

He smiles. “Good girl.”

He pulls you in as his strong hands colored your entire body. Finishing what that bastard tried to do earlier, the man before you was a true man as he tore off your dress, but never lost the velocity of his tenderness and passion.

He sucks on your neck as he takes a fistful of your hair and aggressively pulls your head back, only to balance the moment out with him tenderly licking the bite wound. Reaching down, he inserts two of his fingers. They were cold and sharp with the way he injects them, yet immediately warmed up as your walls soothed the shocking temperature and created a beautiful sensation. His coarseness with your silky flesh, mending together as he thrusts his hooks in and out, starting off slow and steady, gradually increasing in tempo.

“Oh….oh my God!….”

“Tell me how good it feels baby…” he whispers as he nibbles on your lobe.

“Mmmph!” You bite down on your lip as you hang on by the clinging grip of his muscular biceps. Lifting your leg, you hook it around his waist as you yearn for more, in which he gladly obliged.

He looped his free hand under your kneecap and propelled you up and back as he slams your body on the bed. He coats your entire body with kisses as his fingers continue to thrive in and out of your womanhood. Finally, he releases his internal hold on you and presents his flick digits to your lips. You took the hint and licked the glistening coating off, until he shoved them into your mouth altogether, inheriting a whole new line of moans from your throat.

The sound of his jeans coming undone slightly echoed as he buries his face into your neck, mumbling against your skin while he tells you how beautiful and delectable you appear underneath him. With the tip of his nose pressed against your cheek, and his lips plastered against yours, he smiles. The stretch of his grin could be felt against your cherry stained pout, igniting a gasp as you felt yourself gush in front of him.

He takes the bold tip of his cock and slowly slides it in. “Ah! Y-you’re too big!”

“Fuck yeah I am.” He whispers rather ferociously as he continues to go in deeper…and deeper.

“I told you…I’m a bad boy…a big…bad…boy.” He grunts in between his words as he presses forward, burying his thunderous rod deep into your walls.

He settled once he was all the way in. “Ready to get fucked girly?”

You eagerly nod as you catch your breath, or try to. The moment he garnished your final consent of the evening, you were down for.

He draws out his length, slowly. As soon as you feel he is about to fully exit, he rams it all back in. Each of his inches swarms back into the cavity, but it didn’t stop there. Pumping it vigorously, he maintains a solid pace as he reaches further and deeper into you. What was this feeling? This sensation? It was mind blowing. Compared to all the instances when you engaged in sexual contact with your ex, none of them had ever amounted to the rage this man was taking out on you. He was massive, rough, hard, but also soft and tender. He was both black and white, your Heaven and Hell. He was…he was….

“I-I…I can’t breathe! Oh God! Please don’t stop fucking me!”

He continues to pump his shaft harshly and tenderly as he stilts himself on his kneecaps and rubs his thumb on your clitoris. In circulation motion, he gives the external stimulation of pleasure to pair with the drumming throb you felt inside.

“That’s it girly, let me fuck you real good. You’re doing so well, you know that?”

His stiff member thrusts in and out repeatedly. His testicular sacks slap into you, staining the under skin of your vaginal opening bright red as he jams into you. Your body absorbs the impact and shifts around. Like a ragdoll, you felt yourself being tossed by the momentum of his thrusts as your body went left, then right, only for him to grab you by the arms, pinning them to your sides as he straightened you back to center and never breaking the pace.

“Na-uh. Gotta stay still for me baby, we’re going to do this the right way…me and you.”

Your eyes remained squinted shut at the immense pleasure that rampaged in between your legs, yet the vagueness of his words caused you to reach for clarification. “The r-right way? Uh!” You gasped out as you felt the pinch of lightning pleasure the moment he flexed inside you.

“Yeah baby…the right way. Gonna turn us into parents—ah! Fuck!…gonna make you mine forever. Whadya say?”

It was careless, risky, and completely irresponsible…but it made it even more dangerously sinful and absolutely pleasurable. At that moment in time, you didn’t care about anything or anyone, you wanted him. All of him.

He pumps faster and harder, causing your breaths to shorten as you gasp for air while moaning your heart out. “Oh my God!”

“Fuck yeah baby.” He gasps as his rhythm increases. The shortness of his breath indicates he was close as his abdominal region moves at an awesome speed, back and forth as he pummeled into you wildly. Sensing that you were close as the squelching grew louder, he bids you to come undone as the knot snaps in your lower gut.

“Cum on it. I want you to cum on me baby.”

You released and let it all go as you felt loss of control in your body. The shakiness lasted for an eternity as you grabbed your own breasts and gripped onto his forearm for dear life.

“Fuck, make me cum baby.” He grits as he plunges one last time, deeper into you than before. A second later you feel the warmth of his seed staining your walls as he collapses against your frame, declaring his honest love as he decorates your face with small kisses. “Stay with me baby. I’ll never let anything happen to you, let me take care of you and be the one.”

It was like cupid’s arrow struck gold. A product of love and passion emerged as you wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him in. Here all along you thought the night was going to end terribly when your ex didn’t take your breakup well, only for it to end blissfully as your savior became the one to do the unexpected. Kissing him, you released as it occurred to you…

“I don’t even know your name…” your voice trembling as you recover your composure from the exploding shot of pleasure that still rhymed within your womanhood, even after he stopped and rested inside.

Riddling a tune, he softly says his name into your ear. His voice came out almost haunting in the most delightful sense as each letter tickled your canal. It was foreign and he exotic, and he knew how to get you to speak it aloud.

“Say it with me baby, S-u-n-ghoon.”

“Sunghoon?”

He paused as he bites his lip. “Oh fuck baby…when you say my name….it just….come here now.”

You feel yourself being dragged down towards him as he plasters baby kisses on your inner thigh. Through the overstimulation that robbed you of your other senses, you allowed him to continue. You would have been a fool to stop him, after all, it was a perfect night to make up for lost time, considering you spent all your life with the good boys. Now that you got a taste of you bad boy, you’re not sure if you ever want to be good again. It’s better to be bad.

[toxic-libra]

moth to a flame pt.2 - csb (m)

pairing: soobin x fem!reader word count: 6.6k genre: friends with benefits-ish (he helps her with dating tips and stuff), angst if u squint really hard, smut, fluffy, inspired a bit by moth to a flame - the weeknd warnings: 3rd person pov (as always), mentions of reader in love with another guy (haechan <3), slight fwb dynamic, mature content (big dick!bin ofc, oral sex, brief fingering, mirror sex hihihi, protected sex bc yeah important) tagging: @once27, @pageriviera, @gyuzlover, @kookley77-blog, @sendhelpiloveyeonjun, @bunnyspeach, @pagesoobinie, @acidsoju, @cheekycountesschoi, @pinkbabi

[a/n]: part one here, for those who want to read.

Feeling his stomach swirl as he entered Y/N’s apartment wasn’t common, but so wasn’t having a heart-to-heart with Beomgyu minutes before going to a party… And both happened.

Soobin cursed his gullible mind and male weakness. All those weird thoughts and flutterings had nothing to do with real emotions, they were just his head clouded after crossing the line between friends and something else, plus a good blowjob – Beomgyu’s words, minus the ‘good blowjob’, for Soobin preferred to be ran over and buried alive than telling his best friend about his sex life.

Yeonjun was laying on the couch, reading something on his phone. “Y/N’s in her room.”

“Alright.”

The muffled music made him hesitate in knocking. She was listening to some old EDM tracks, something she did whenever getting ready to go out. After the third knock, the noise stopped and he heard the low ‘Come in’.

Opening the door, he put his head inside. “How long until you’re ready?”

Turning around, she smiled. “Oh, hi Bin! And, uh… Five minutes at max.” She pointed to her jewellery box. “Just deciding on accessories. Why?”

“We’re all waiting for you.”

“Mimi too?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Heaven’s, I’m late then.” She chuckled. “Just give me a second.”

He stared at her dressing table, noticing an open bottle of soju. “Drinking already?”

“I’m quite nervous, so...”

“Just try to relax, everything’s gonna be fine.”

If by ‘going to be fine’ Soobin meant ‘dancing instead of trying to flirt with Donghyuck’, then yes, everything was fine. Because from the moment she arrived, until then, Y/N had barely talked to Hyuck, resorting to her own cowardness and seeking refuge at the safety of the dance floor.

It was too soon.

She wasn’t ready for it yet.

She’d probably never be ready for it.

Walking towards the bar, she asked for a shot of vodka. It was her third, and maybe by the fifth she’d be a bit more confident. However, while waiting, a pair of pretty hands rested on the counter by her side, the slender fingers and pale skin catching her attention.

“Choi Soobin.” She forced a grin.

“What are you doing back there? I thought we were supposed to put our plan into action!”

“I kinda… Chickened-out last minute.”

“I already told Hyuck a thousand times how pretty you look today, and how plump your ass looks in this dress, but if you’re not around, there’s no way he can see it!” Soobin rolled his eyes.

Y/N’s breath caught, cheeks warming. “You said that?”

“Of course I did! Wasn’t this the main…”

“You think I look pretty today?” She cut him off, wanting to sound cheeky, teasing even, but it came out shaky, laced by that unwanted shyness and self-doubt.

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it for the plot, then?”

Soobin moved before his mind calculated the pros and cons of doing such. Hand on her chin, he tipped her face up, thumb trailing her lower lip. “Not everything I do is aiming at our plan, Y/N. You look pretty every day. You are pretty.” He stated as if telling her the sky was blue.

They stared at each other, atmosphere changing and charging with confused, risky thoughts. The way his palm smoothly flattened on her cheek, his finger still on her lip, eyes tender but darkened, and the absolute warmth that came with Choi Soobin himself… Y/N wanted to dive in so bad.

He was her safety-pin.

But before she could act on any emotion, someone tapped her arm, breaking their connection.

“Your shot, miss.” The bartender didn’t look guilty for interrupting.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N cleared her throat, putting some distance between her and Soobin. Taking a deep breathe, she downed it and turned to him again, holding his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Ok, I’m good now. Let’s go. I’ll try to talk to him a bit.”

Soobin hummed, swallowing an annoyed sigh at the impulse to tug her closer.

First, they stopped by the dance floor so Y/N could tell her friends she’d rest for a while. Walking there wasn’t easy, for the crowd kept blocking their path. Twice, Soobin got elbowed for trying to protect Y/N against the dancers, who moved carelessly to the rhythm – each time, the feeling of her body pressed against his was enough to make the pain of being hit worth it.

Their table was pretty close to the side they got out, but Y/N felt the pang of insecurity again and dragged Soobin to the bathroom area, saying she needed a minute.

Knowing better than pressuring her, he stood at the hall, calmly waiting.

Once alone, she took a deep breath and went for the sink, where the mirror was.

“Get a grip of yourself.” Y/N murmured to her reflection. “Focus on your goal. You got this. Go there, bat your lashes, crack some jokes, smile prettily and go home.”

With Soobin.

She scowled, telling her mind to shut the fuck up.

However, it made sense. If she left with Soobin, they could sleep together and she’d be ready to finally pursue Donghyuck. It was exactly the reason she sought his help, wasn’t it?!

All her resolve crumbled when the first thing she saw after opening the door was a girl all over Soobin. As if on cue, his eyes found hers and he frowned in annoyance, silently pleading to be rescued. Y/N’s mouth twitched in some unexpected anger and possessiveness, jealousy slowly boiling up her blood. The nerve of some girls!

“I’m back, baby.” She smiled wickedly. “Did I take too long?”

“Not at all, love. Let’s go?” Barely looking at the girl, Soobin offered a bowl. And not missing a beat, he took Y/N’s hand.

“She looked like she was bothering you.” Although she didn’t need to explain, she did it anyway.

“She was.” He nodded, fingers intertwining hers. “Are you ready?”

“You want the honest answer or the expected one?”

“Hyuck’s a good lad, you two already talk, so no need to fret.”

“We talk, yeah, but we don’t flirt… I don’t know how to flirt!”

“He’s gonna do all the work, trust me. You stay there just being pretty, looking at him with your starry eyes and perfect mouth and he’ll be sold.”

Soobin thought she was pretty!

Though her eyes starry and mouth perfect!

God, why was her heart racing?! Why did she feel so proud of herself?!

Taking a deep breath, Y/N tried to push those sensations away. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

“You make it sound like a penitence.”

“Being insecure sucks.”

“Just try to relax, I’ll be by your side.” He squeezed her hand tenderly.

“Give me a second, then. Just a second.” She stalled, still quite far from their table.

“You’re overthinking again.” Soobin murmured. “You don’t have to jump his bones, love, but just... Try to interact a bit more, touch his arm while you talk, brightly smile at him and stuff.”

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that? You do it with me, with Yeonjun…”

“It’s different.”

“Because Yeonjun is your kindred spirit and I’m a mere best friend?” He jested, though his face was slightly serious. She rolled her eyes, recognising the banter.

“No!” Y/N groaned. “I mean, in Yeonjunnie’s case, yes. But in yours… It’s different too. A good different.” She quickly added.

“Such as…?”

The same words she uttered to Yeonjun not a day ago floated on her mind. Saying them to Soobin was a risky move – he shouldn’t be her focus here. However, Y/N hated when he acted like Yeonjun was more important to her.

“With you, things are easy. I don’t feel anxious, nor insecure. On the contrary.” She stared at the floor, quite embarrassed of herself. “I feel… Seen. Cared for. Special. It makes sense.”

Soobin blinked, surprised by her words. He never expected that whatever they were doing would affect her this way – she seemed so sure it would help her with Donghyuck and not change anything between them. He knew he’d prefer an easy, calm love over any turbulent feeling, but…

Oh, fuck.

He shut the thought before it fully took form.

“Well, love…” He cleared his throat. “It’s easy because you don’t have a crush on me.” It wasn’t a 100% true, for there were people that fell in love quietly (his parents, for example), but it didn’t apply to their reality. “So, naturally, since you do like Hyuck, you feel more pressured.”

Their eyes met, and her gaze didn’t hold the same assurance it did when she first asked him for help. No, it held a foreign emotion he had yet to see on her – it looked like a mix of confusion and agony… Like she was trying to decipher what she was really feeling.

Like she was second-guessing her crush on Donghyuck.

“How can I help you get more confident to face him now?”

Y/N knew it wasn’t ideal, but he’d proved her once that it didn’t mind how inexperienced she was. She just needed… Reassurance.

“Would you give me a kiss?”

He hesitated. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s cringe, but whenever we kiss, I get that adrenaline rush as if I’m actually a femme fatale or something like that… I don’t know. It stuck in my head ever since you refused my blowjob…”

Thankfully, before she could utter more nonsense, Soobin covered her mouth with his.

The mention of the night he fingered her, but the recent memories of the perfect blowjob, and whatever weird emotions brewed between them were enough to get him into action.

His tongue found hers immediately, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips as her fingers caressed from his long arms to his shoulders and neck, wrapping around his nape. He crowded over her, too tall that even being on her tiptoes wasn’t enough to ease the distance, so he needed to bend a bit more. He circled her waist, pressing her body against his and relishing at her warmth.

They kissed until her mushy brain gave in, deciding she wasn’t ready for Hyuck yet. But she was ready for Soobin. She had been since that night in his kitchen.

“Take me home.” Y/N murmured against his swollen mouth.

Putting some distance, he frowned, unsure if he heard right. “What?”

“Take me home.”

“Are you sure? What about…”

“Home, Bin. Now.” She cut him off, her clipped tone indicating only one thing.

He couldn’t refuse her. Not when the confusion on her pretty eyes had dissolved into lust.

They preferred to leave quietly, mostly because both were trying to ignore what that ‘impulsive’ move actually meant. The silence wasn’t heavy, but it did bother them a bit.

Instead of going to her apartment, Y/N went to his.

Through the darkness, they walked to his room and Soobin thanked God the city lights peeking through the window were enough for them at the moment. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise (not exactly a surprise, but anyway).

She turned to him, vexed, confused and desperate.

“Choi Soobin, I really, really want to sleep with you tonight.”

Although he felt the blow of her confession on his whole body, the only thing he did was suck a breath, letting each word perforate his heart like sharp claws.

“Are you sure, love?”

“Yes.”

And if he was keen to melodramatics, he would’ve fallen to his knees at her consent.

He closed the distance, mouth on hers before she got to say anything else. Before she could even think of regretting what she said. It was manipulative and wrong, but Soobin wanted her too much to give her enough space to think thoroughly about their situation.

Her head fell back mid-kiss, body limp and pliant to his ministrations. Lips closing on the skin of her neck, he prayed the marks would last for weeks. And at the thought of seeing them, he was reminded of the new decoration of his room… The whole reason why he kept themselves in the dark until now, standing at the door like two fools.

Soobin’s hands trembled a bit as he took her dress off. Her skin was ablaze, although goosebumps rose everywhere his fingers touched. He kissed her shoulder, cupping her boobs and pinching a nipple – the moan she let out was pornography, reaching his dick and making it twitch. “Lay down and close your eyes, love.” He ordered, reaching for the lights. When she thumped on the soft mattress, he took a deep breath, expectant. “Now open.”

Y/N was met with her reflection on the ceiling. “A mirror?”

“Got it installed yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Because I liked it?”

“That’s… Very kinky of you, Choi Soobin.”

The dimples showed up, warming her heart at the sight of his boyish smile. “You’re the first one to see it. I didn’t think much when I bought it, but you’re here and it makes sense now… You were right. Everything makes sense with you.” His knee dipped the bed. “Wanna try it?”

Thank God she was laying down, or else her wobbly legs would give in.

Everything makes sense with you.

“Of course I do.”

He gave her another one of his cute smiles, those that didn’t mirror any of his naughty intentions, and took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. “Then keep looking up and see the magic happen.”

She giggled, for his words were a bit cheesy, but her smile died as soon as his mouth touched her collarbones. He left some tender bites while his hands kneading her boobs, then, as her fingers threaded between his dark locks, his lips circled a nipple, sucking and licking the hard bud. Y/N moaned, eyes begging to close, but too entranced by their reflection to do so. She could see his tall frame over her, the way her legs rested at each side of his hips, her own face filled with pleasure.

Soobin kept trailing her body with kisses, until he reached her navel. His teeth scraped near her panties’ waistband, his large hands fondling her chest before coming down to her thighs, grabbing them and keeping them open. Y/N held her breath, attention fixed on the mirror – his head was so close to where she wanted it, she could even feel the warmth of his breath. Then, he sucked her over the fabric, and her back arched, heart fluttering at the sensation… But it still wasn’t enough.

“Fuck, Bin.”

“Is everything ok, love?” His voice was tinted with mirth.

“It’ll be when you take my panties off.” She confessed, too hypnotised by him and blinded by her neediness to be bothered of expressing it.

“So impatient.” But his fingers rolled them down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Before Soobin could dive in, he glanced above, seeing her now naked body splayed on his bed. “Isn’t it such a nice view?” He mused. “I wish I had eyes behind my head to witness everything.”

And then his mouth was on her, not wasting even a second.

His tongue rippled against her clit, soft, curious. His fingers dug into her thighs, pushing her legs as open as he could. Pleasure sparkled on her veins, the feeling of his lips on her pussy so good, so annoyingly good. She moaned, eyes glued to the mirror above, entranced by the erotic sight and caress. She could see his head moving, could feel his smart tongue bumping her needy bud, drawing figures and learning what she liked, what she tasted. Her hips found enough strength to move together with his ministrations, making one of his hands detach from her plump thighs and force her belly down, trying to keep her still.

Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stay open, no matter how wicked and delightful it was to see everything reflected. Her mind went blank at the buzzing of his mouth on her cunt, lapping and coaxing her orgasm. It was all too much – the weird night they had, being with him, the desperation she felt for him, the need to let him rearrange her insides if he wanted to.

A small cry escaped her lips, mixed with his name, body moving as the high crashed on her like waves at the coast. Soobin groaned in pure satisfaction when her thighs closed around his face, suffocating him a bit, but her release was too sweet of a death for him to mind. He kept licking her, drinking every drop, pussy drunk on her ectasis… Until she forced his head up, pulling at his hair with a painful but delicious tug.

“Fuck, sorry, I–”

“I’m good, love.” He purred in reassurance, knowing he couldn’t give her insecurity any space. “You good too?” He grinned sheepishly.

“Shut up.” She couldn’t help but chuckle, despite her racing heart.

“Is this the kind of treatment I get after making you cum?!” He tsked. “Maybe we should stop, then, if you’re going to be rude…”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, I’m sorry.”

His adorable dimples deepened. “Well, if you want to keep going…”

“Please! Please, I’ll be good!” Y/N shook her head like a little girl.

“You really want me to fuck you, huh?”

“Desperately.”

“Or else you’ll go berserk?”

“Exactly.”

“We can’t let that happen.” He moved a bit, lips touching her belly, then the valley between her breasts. “Think you can take my fingers now, love?”

“I can take anything you want me to.”

“Just two fingers, then, or if you’re feeling generous, three.”

Y/N softly hummed. “Anything you want, Bin.”

“Here, suck it for me.” He patted her mouth with his index and middle finger. “Get it wet.”

She obeyed, holding his wrist while her tongue coated his skin with glossy, warm spit.

His eyes never left hers, drowsy and hungry. And when he sunk his digits inside her, without as much as a warning, Soobin couldn’t help but get hypnotised by the way her breath hitched, head falling back on the mattress and legs trying to close around him again. She looked so pretty like that, all pliant to his ministrations, vulnerable and desperate for him.

He was rather uncomfortable in his trousers, but stretching her was his priority – it had to be good for her, she couldn’t get hurt or feel any pain that didn’t hint at pleasurable. He knew he’d feel amazing regardless, so there was no need to rush.

Their figures reflected on the mirror made Y/N’s skin tingle with need. She blinked, dazed by the overstimulation, her belly coiling at each steady move of his hand. Her mouth hung open, lewd moans and whines of his nickname leaving her ever so often.

“Feeling generous?” Soobin kissed her ear, then her neck.

“Magnanimous.” Her voice came out hoarse.

He grinned against her collarbones, inserting a third finger and feeling the immediate clench of her wet cunt. It took his breath away, too. “So fucking snug.” His dick twitched, impatient. “You want to cum again, love? Want on my hands now?”

And as much as she appreciated a second orgasm, she wanted to cum together. Finding his gaze, she shook her head. “Want it with you.”

“With me?” He echoed, biting another smile. “How magnanimous, indeed.”

“Please, I’m ready. I know I can take you!”

There was her clipped tone again, and Soobin knew he had her where he wanted. Brows furrowed in frustration, Y/N stared at him like a princess on the verge of a tantrum out of sheer pettiness. He slowed down until stalling completely, not holding back his smirk.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Y/N supposed that being called ‘cute’ after begging for a guy’s dick wasn’t exactly the most flattering eulogy, however, her heart warmed at the compliment. She didn’t get to comment, though, for he left the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and dropping them on the floor, briefs coming along. Going for his nightstand, he took a condom off – although he knew Y/N offered him no danger (and vice-versa), it’d be better if they kept it wrapped for the time being.

She tried not to ogle him while he put the condom on, tried not to feel wetter at the expectation of having him inside her… And failed miserably.

When Soobin hovered her again, cradling her jaw and tilting her face up, stealing a slow kiss, any inch of doubt for the decisions she took that night left her like lightening.

It had to be Soobin.

It made sense, indeed.

And she wanted that more than she wanted a lot of things before.

He rolled around, bringing her body with his, putting her on top and ending the kiss with a bite on her neck. “You want to ride me? That way you can control how much you’re gonna take and I won’t hurt you.” He suggested, a hand pushing her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss there better. “And I get to enjoy the view a bit.” His chuckle was wicked.

“Hmm… We can try…” Her heart soared on her chest as he laid down against the headboard.

Well, they were doing that.

She was finally having sex again after ages.

Y/N spat on him over the condom and smeared it as she pumped his shaft. Frowning slightly, she wondered how he’d fit – yes, he was the famous cliché ‘big and thick’, not at all like the other two guys she had slept with. With wobbly legs and a pinch of insecurity, she circled his hips and aligned him on her hole. Soobin tried to keep his attention on the mirror, but as she sat on his dick, his focus diverted – he couldn’t help the deep groan that left his throat at her snugness and warmth. He was only past the tip when she stopped.

“Too big.” She gulped. “It hurts.” Her eyes weren’t teary, but they stung.

“Slow down, love. Don’t rush.” He gritted his teeth, remaining quiet despite the urge to thrust fully in. “Look up, it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.” Maybe the visual stimulation would get her wetter and make it easier for him to slide in without the pain. She obeyed, her head falling a bit as she faced above. Before she could move again, one hand rested on her waist and the other on her boob, pinching a nipple. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Her voice came out breathy.

“Maybe if I…” His mouth landed on the beak, sucking it.

Y/N immediately moaned, sinking a bit further on him. “So good.”

He changed sides, and her fingers threaded on his hair, tugging at the locks. She was mesmerised by the sight, as he predicted. There was something rather intimate in seeing themselves on the mirror – his face buried on her bosom, her sitting on him, her pleasured expression…

“It’s taking everything in me…” Soobin swallowed a groan, hands now on her ass, groping the flesh with too much strength. “Not to thrust in fully.”

She let out an airy chuckle. It was painful for her, but he probably was having it way worse. So, gathering the remains of courage she still had, she forced her hips down, trying to get most of his length in. “Maybe if you weren’t so big…” Her voice came out strained, bottoming down. “God, this hurts. It’s like I’m a virgin all over again.”

Soobin moaned, dick twitching at the primitive idea of being her first. It was quite an outdated thought, but he was quite possessive and romantic himself, so he couldn’t control his own mind.

“Hi.” He murmured against her jaw, leaving small bites there, hoping they would distract them both – for completely different reasons.

“Hi.” Y/N smiled.

“You’re unbearably so tight, love.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say that. It’s not a bad thing!”

“Just hang in there for a second, please? Just until the burn goes away.” She stole a peck, thumb caressing his cheek. “I promise it won’t take long.”

This time, instead of a peck, she kissed him. Their tongues met in a sensual dance, her torso pressed against his while his hands didn’t know whether to stay on her plump ass or go back to her waist. His digits left fire where they touched, and Y/N melted on the kiss. Instinctively, she rocked her hips just a bit… Soobin’s grip tightened on her.

“Love, don’t. If you’re not ready, don’t.” He warned.

“I think I am. Eventually, it’ll get better, right? So...”

They looked up briefly, grinning at the sight. Her moves were sloppy, slow, only testing how to work that out, how to ease the pain so it would become pleasurable. Then, Soobin kissed her neck again, leaving purple marks without caring about the aftermath. She found more stability, hips going up and down as he helped her, pushing her ass in sync.

“You’re driving me insane.” Soobin groaned, searching her mouth.

That made Y/N smirk. It was so weird how he made her feel this good. At his every reaction, she felt her confidence awakening, felt some sort of inner power brewing together with pleasure. The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing unnaturally, while she tried to conceal her pace and the caress. She tugged at his hair, nails burning his scalp and making him see stars.

“Help me go fast.” Y/N begged. “H-How?”

“I’ll take charge now, ok? Feeling good?”

“Ok, yes. Please. Fast.” She panted against his lips.

Soobin let his weight on top of her, hands at each side of her face, the good ol’ missionary. The new position offered a perfect angle to hit her sweet spot, not to mention how intimate it was. Sure looking at their reflection was hot, however, witnessing her expression of pure bliss was hotter. And knowing it was him who made her feel that way was… Surreal. Picking up his pace, he tried to go as fast as he could, tried to make every wish of hers command.

She held onto his forearms, back arching with each thrust. It had been so long since she felt this good, and later on she’d regret wasting so much time with her ‘celibacy’ – but right now… Right now, she didn’t want to think of anything other than Choi Soobin.

She couldn’t.

Everywhere she looked, every breath she took, every one of her cells were filled with him. Pleasure boiled together with her blood, buzzing through her body, raw, conquering. Their gazes locked, her name leaving his mouth in that husky timber he had, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, lips swollen from the millions kisses they shared…

It was too much.

“Bin,” She panted. “I’m coming.”

God, he almost collapsed at her words. Sneaking a hand between them, he found her clit, circling it and rubbing it just right. Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, legs trembling as her pussy clenched repeatedly when she reached her climax, moaning his name like a prayer.

Hypnotised, Soobin followed like a moth to a flame. If Y/N was the deathly light, he’d perish proudly, peacefully. Lost in her, he spilled inside the condom, thick, strong, intense. Her name on his lips like the only language he knew, her face the only memory he would dare to remember.

And in the afterglow, he secretly wished it could last forever.

Y/N didn’t know much about ‘morning after’s to act like a normal adult woman would. As soon as she woke up, with Soobin’s tall frame pressed against her back, she started scheming how she could flee to her apartment without raising too much suspicion. If Beomgyu was already awake and at home, she was doomed – however, if he was asleep, she still had a chance.

Untangling herself from Soobin’s embrace, Y/N cringed a bit at her sore muscles. He stirred in his slumber, a delicious groan escaping his throat as he turned to the wall’s side.

Oh, dear Lord.

Not even aiming to the bathroom first, she opened the door and poked her head out, looking to both sides and listening to the quietness of the flat. Walking on tip toes, she reached the hall, noticing neither Beomgyu’s nor Mimi’s shoes and coats were there.

Excellent.

She couldn’t go back home because they were there.

Locking herself on the bathroom wasn’t her smartest idea, but she needed to pee and wash up. When she looked at the mirror, her reflection told her everything she didn’t want to know. The glow on her face, Soobin’s marks on her neck, her dishevelled hair… What a fantastic, dangerous night she had. How was she supposed to get back on track?

Was it even possible?

Turning on the shower, she ordered herself to breath. People had one-night-stands, there was no need for her to fret. Actually, when she asked for Soobin’s help, she had that in mind… So why was she so… Antsy? Confused? Dazed?

And then, after the kitchen episode, they agreed to talk about whatever made them awkward. How could she talk about last night?! When ‘awkward’ was absolutely the last thing it was, but…

She needed some time alone.

She needed to think.

Turning off the shower without even getting inside, she decided dealing with Beomgyu was easier than dealing with whatever was going on with her right now. Gathering her dress and panties from the floor, Y/N made to the door, wrapping herself on her coat and putting on her shoes.

It wasn’t the dreadful ‘walk of shame’, however, it wasn’t a prideful one either.

She knew Soobin would be disappointed at her for running away first thing in the morning. Well, he’d have to let her off the hook for this one.

Typing the password, Y/N made way to her bathroom, safely locking herself up. Drawing a bath would be better than showering, and so she did, promising to deal with happened later on.

The cold, short replies on their chat made Soobin’s belly churn unpleasantly. Well, he only had himself to blame. Was it too soon to push her to another man’s arm? Maybe. But if he didn’t do it now, he’d want her all to himself… And she didn’t want him the same, as his empty room so kindly illustrated when he woke up alone near lunch that Sunday (not even a goodbye message left!).

In trying to play cupid, he scheduled another PC Bang meeting. And as they walked there, side to side, avoiding to touch each other, Soobin realised he lost her. The nonchalant girl by his side wasn’t his best friend anymore, and he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions that brewed inside him – from last night, from this night, from the tragic but obvious future…

The PC Bang was too crowded for their liking, so they ditched it for fried chicken and beer. Instead of taking her usual place between Yeonjun and Soobin, this time, Y/N waited for Soobin to sit and sat in front of him. Although the distance was inexpressive, she felt a bit… Safer.

It was already difficult to focus on Donghyuck when Soobin was nearby. And now that she had slept with him, it was ten times worse. Before she could get a grip of herself, her restless mind was flooded by flashes of last night; and when their eyes met, she felt her stomach tighten.

Was he thinking about it too?

Was he aware of her uneasiness towards him?

Was he trying his best not to touch her at any given chance?

Because she felt like fighting a lost battle.

“Yeonjunnie texted.” She looked up from her phone. “They’re almost here. I’ll wait outside!”

“It’s quite cold, stay inside.” Soobin reached for her hand, stalling her.

“He’s a bit sour that we left yesterday without warning, so I want to appease him.” She explained, hoping the goosebumps were from the chilly air. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“You spoil him too much.”

“I spoil everyone I care for, Bin.” She held his gaze for a heartbeat later, then forced a giggle and left – hoping they haven’t noticed how desperate she was to be alone.

Going there was a mistake.

Soobin’s attention remained on Y/N until she disappeared through the entrance door. With a resigned sigh, he took a sip of his beer and relaxed against the booth.

“You two could stop eye-fucking each other in public.” Hyuck chuckled next to him.

“What?”

“Y/N and you. I get it’s the beginning and everything’s quite out of control, but I’m feeling weirdly shy here. Like I’m intruding.”

“What about Y/N and I?” Soobin frowned, somehow knowing where that was going.

“Dating, duh. Everyone knows it already, you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

God, that was so wrong. That was so, so wrong and it would come to bite him in the ass later, but Soobin couldn’t help it anymore. “Everyone noticed, then.”

“I don’t know how you planned to keep it a secret when you two are going on dates non-stop, and I saw you making-out next to the bathrooms yesterday.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry you got to see that.” His chuckle was forced, since he fought against despair for ruining Y/N’s plan and the unwanted triumph for people thinking she was his.

“Nah, it’s ok. I thought something was fishy when you started bringing her to our meetings often, and you just couldn’t stop talking about her… I just had to put two and two together.” Hyuck shrugged. “She’s a nice girl, bro. I’m glad you found someone good for you.”

“Thanks.”

He was so, so fucked.

Three days later

Y/N had given it enough thought. For the past three days, she witnessed Beomgyu arriving at her flat with brownies, cookies and another Nutella bread… Apparently Soobin was thinking, too. About what? She wasn’t so sure. As for her, she went through all the pros and cons of ending their agreement, of still pretending to want Donghyuck. She knew maybe that was all she would get from Soobin – maybe her mind did play tricks and he actually didn’t like her back. She knew she probably would end up with a broken heart, however, she couldn’t keep that going.

It made no sense anymore.

Not when her feelings for Soobin bloomed like ivy, getting her covered in them.

That’s why, like the day she suggested their agreement, mid-Anime episode, she muttered:

“I think we should stop.”

Soobin didn’t react at first. He was so enthralled by the story, fingers mindlessly playing against her thigh, drawing figures and reminding her why that conversation was necessary. “Mhmm. The episode is almost finished, we can do something else later.”

“No, Bin. We should stop.” She put some distance between them. “Us.”

“What?” He looked at her, confused. “Why?”

“I… I think we should stop seeing each other for a bit.”

Dread pulsed through Soobin, turning his body rigid. Her face dropped, and he read all the wrong emotions there. Shaking his head, he forced himself to stand up, rage and guilt finding their way to his mouth. Before he could articulate any proper thought, his impulsiveness got the best of him.

“You promised nothing would change between us!” He quipped. “You promised we’d still be friends after everything, Y/N. You swore!”

She felt her eyes burning, but as always, she didn’t cry. “I know what I said, but…”

How could Soobin come clean, anyway? She wanted to stop seeing him, probably because after letting him fuck her in the best way possible, she really noticed how strong her feelings for Hyuck were… Although Hyuck thought she was his girlfriend.

They were doomed from the beginning.

“Now I’ve lost you twice.” He turned around, ready to flee from that overwhelming bubble of unsaid feelings. “I knew things wouldn’t end up good, but I still did it… And now I’ve lost you again.” Not even a step was taken when he felt her fingers on his arm.

“Bin, wait.”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with this now.”

“But if we don’t talk, then how…”

“He thinks we’re dating, Y/N.”

“P-pardon?” She froze.

“Donghyuck thinks we’re dating, that’s why keeping this is pointless. He won’t be interested in his friend’s girl.” Soobin looked at her over his shoulder. “But we’re not dating, are we?” He knew exactly what was going through her mind, knew those turbulent eyes better than anyone else. “And I didn’t correct him.” The words came out heavy, poisoned. “Aren’t you asking me why?”

She gulped. “Why?”

“‘Cause yeah, he might be a good match for you, you might have something in common and he’s a nice dude… But will he help you out of your shell like I do? Will he be alright with Yeonjun’s place in your life like I am? Will he…” ‘Love you like I do?’. It was on the tip of his tongue, however, Soobin remained silent. It was too soon for that. “I’m sorry things ended up this way.”

The hand around his pulse tightened. “Aren’t you going to fight for me, then?”

“What?”

“So you tell me all this, but don’t say the only thing that matters?! And you expect me to do what?! How can I feel safe enough to confess my feelings for you when you’re about to leave with a lame ass ‘sorry, I can’t deal with this’, as if it wasn’t obvious I feel the same?!” She sounded angry, and Soobin turned around, finding her scowling at him. “God, Bin, it stopped being about Donghyuck the moment I had your fingers inside me! I get I was kinda slow to notice, but you could’ve guided me to the right path! You’ve been guiding me all along anyway!”

“You realise you just confessed to me, right?” He was half amused, half confused.

Y/N hesitated. “I do.”

“You don’t get to take it back.” He shook his head, coming for her.

“I don’t.” She agreed.

“Say it again, full words now.” Soobin held her chin up, eyes locking with hers.

“I’m not being the one to take the first step again, Bin. I did it twice, it’s your turn now!”

He had some cheesy lines on the tip of his tongue, but she was right. She deserved something genuine after being brave enough for both of them.

“I love that you trusted me to take you off your shell, to help you find confidence and bloom. I love that you were crazy enough to cross the line for both of us, because if you haven’t… I wouldn’t be here now.” Without warning, he stole a peck, relishing on her surprised moan. “I love that you showed me all your versions and let me fall in love with each of them. I love that it’s you and that I get to tell you that it’s you, Y/N. I love you. For real.” She blinked, and Soobin’s eyes winded. “W-Wait a minute! Is this… A teardrop?”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the wet drop on her cheek. “Well, you can’t get all poetic and expect me to be unphased by it! Not after trying to give me up like the hero of a sappy book would!”

“I didn’t know, love.” He shook his head, wiping another tear. “I didn’t know you felt the same. You’re so good at channelling everything, I misread it.”

“I can’t hide much when it’s about you. You make sense, and you make me special.”

“You are special, love. To me.”

“You’re special to me too, Bin. Thanks for deciding on helping me despite the risks.”

“To have you in the end, I’d do it all over again.”

“I love you, Bin. Sorry it took so long.”

“It didn’t take long, we both were just… A bit blind.”

She smiled, agreeing and kissing him again. Now, with honest feelings out in the open, she noticed that the anxiety from before had disappeared. It wasn’t that she was insecure and shy, she was just focusing on the wrong gamer guy.

thank you all for reading <33

as always, english is not my first language, so any mistakes please feel free to tell me!

[moonlightspencie]

here’s a non-request drabble. i’ve been thinking about this a lot, so here’s some minor smut & sirius black being embarrassed bc it’s cute

pairing: remus lupin x reader, mentioned sirius black x reader

warnings: minor smut (dirty dreams), teasing sirius until he’s blushing and floundering. 18+ only please!

——————————

Sirius shifted the both of you into a new position, one that had you squeezing your eyes shut before he grabbed your jaw, convincing you to keep your eyes on him.

“Attagirl,” he groaned, holding your knees to your chest. He smiled down at you in a state of bliss. “Take it so well, angel.”

“S’good, Siri,” you whimpered.

He took a moment just to watch you under him, your brows drawn together in pleasure. He admired your pretty lips, open and pouring out the cutest little sounds as he pounded into you. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down, connecting your lips in a heated kiss that was at least 80% tongue. He could still taste your fruity lipgloss, and nibbled at your bottom lip for good measure, to which you replied with a little giggle. He smiled to himself at the sound.

He moved back to get a better angle inside of you, soon making noises that rivaled your own. He grew closer and closer to his climax, his breathing heavy. Just a few more—

“Sirius!”

Sirius woke in a cold sweat to your soft hand on his arm. He startled, moving slightly, his back hitting the soft cushions of the couch.

“You okay? It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

He swallowed. “Uh— Yeah. Yeah, something like that. I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

He glanced at your hand, still on his arm, then back at you. He nodded quickly.

“Remus wanted me to come get you. We’re going to leave for dinner soon. James is coming, too.”

He nodded again, letting out a heavy breath. “Okay. Thanks.”

As soon as you left the room, he squeezed his eyes shut, the scenes of his dream and your pretty moans rattling around in his head with reckless abandon. A wave of guilt washed over him with it. It was bad enough to dream about his friend in that way, worse that said friend was dating his best friend, and downright diabolical that he really enjoyed that dream. He sat up, trying to shake that feeling, but it was much more difficult than he anticipated. The bulge in his pants that had become more than uncomfortable wasn’t helping, either.

Though, if he thought that was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to dinner. James had dropped out of the plans at the last minute, leaving Sirius with you and Remus. Normally, third wheeling was fine by him: he was almost as close with you as he was with Remus. Though, it was an added discomfort that he couldn’t stop thinking about that dream all night. Every time you looked in his direction, he could picture your face as he was inside of you. Every time Remus looked at him, he felt like he could see right through him. That was somehow even more mortifying.

It only got worse later in the night.

You’d gone to the kitchen to put on some tea, claiming that you needed your ‘nightly caffeine’. Remus shook his head at you with a smile, accepting a soft kiss before you left that Sirius found himself watching too closely.

A moment after you were out of earshot, Remus settled his gaze on Sirius.

“What’s going on with you, Pads?”

Sirius blushed. “W-what?”

“Something’s up. She didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve been acting weird. Said you’ve barely talked to her all night,” Remus said with a raised brow. “It’s usually pretty hard to get you two to shut up when you’re together.”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing. Why won’t you tell me? When do we keep secrets?”

Sirius swallowed. “It’s— It’s hard to explain. I don’t think I can, Mooney.”

“Try me.”

He sighed, shaking his head as his eyes fluttered shut. This was more than embarrassing.

“I, um,” he groaned. “This is fucking embarrassing. I can’t.”

“It can’t be that bad. Remember when you told me about the time Amelie asked you to wear her—”

“Alright,” Sirius cut him off, throwing his hand up. “Alright. But you have to promise you won’t get pissed.”

Remus furrowed his brow. “Should I?”

“No. It isn’t…” Sirius clenched his teeth, then bit the bullet. “I had a dream about her.”

A silence settled over the room for a minute.

“Okay?” Remus responded at last.

Sirius huffed. “A sex dream.”

“Oh,” Remus’ eyes went wide. Then, he laughed. “You’ve been acting like this because of a dream?”

“It’s not funny, Mooney. I’ve never thought about her like that. It feels wrong.”

“Yeah, mate, you’re wanting to fuck my girl,” Remus said, laughing more. “‘Course you feel awkward.”

“I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Clearly you do,” Remus smirked. “Can’t blame you, either, but that’s no reason to shut her out. I have dreams like that all the time.”

“But you’re dating her. You’re supposed to,” Sirius huffed again.

“Should’ve known all the flirting would get you in trouble one day, Pads. Finally happened,” Remus said, leaning back in his seat with a grin.

“What finally happened?” you asked, coming in with a mug of tea.

You set it down on the table, just barely, before Remus was pulling you into his lap.

“Sirius was just telling me about a dream he had—”

“Remus,” Sirius warned. “Quiet.”

You furrowed your brow. “I feel like I missed something.”

Remus smirked, pressing a kiss to your neck, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your thigh.

“Just barely, darling,” he mumbled against your skin, looking at Sirius with a devious glint in his eyes. “Maybe Sirius will tell you sometime, yeah?”

Sirius blushed hard, averting his eyes, but only piquing your interest.

“Is this about why he’s been avoiding me?”

Remus smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see, darling.”

part 2 here!