#i just am not but i happen to like some fics that have smut in them
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to a dying? atinyblr
i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.
feedback:
i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post.
which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.
if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.
also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!
updates and requests:
asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?'
most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)
if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.
the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.
the fanfics in atinyblr:
i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well.
there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.
this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.
i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.
and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.
tags:
this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).
as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.
disclaimer:
this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.
this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.
these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.
#sorry for the title i have to grab y'alls attention somehow#it did not always use to be like this!#be kind to writers!#our fandom here is not that big so let's support each other#and revive the essence of what fanfic is truly about#art#and art needs what??#appreciation!!#ateez#atinyblr#atiny#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fics
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keefe would not like me and i don't like him: masterpost
hey everyone . . . there are too many freaking strieefe things now. sigh. so naturally it's time for a masterpost . . . but before that i should clear up some misconceptions probably
this is a bit. i am not actually mad. if i was i would make a more serious-toned post telling strieefe anons and non-anons to knock it off
having said that i am vehemently and utterly anti strieefe. awful, awful ship. horrendous. will fight the people that ship it until the day i die
this post explains the origins of strieefe
yes, i am okay with strieefe fics being posted to ao3 (i've had a couple of anons ask me this). if you happen to do this, tag me as stria sixteen. also send me the fic. i want to read it
i am not okay with smut (nobody has done this yet, but just to be clear) . . . but anything up until that point is fine. the makeout fic was fine. the only-one-bed trope was fine. the shirtless keefe was fine
please please please please if you are going to send me fics, name them. name them!!!! it doesn't have to be a profound, thoughtful name (this is strieefe, after all, cringe is expected). but all fics are tagged by their names, and it helps keep things organized, so please!!!! i also tag all asks i receive with the asker's url, so fics are also tagged by the writer's url (or anon)
the general strieefe tag (for me) is #keefe would not like me and i don't like him. it is blockable. do with this information what you will. other people may use different tags. if you don't want to see strieefe-related stuff at all, i also recommend blocking off #strieefe and #to strieefe or not to strieefe
alayda is a menace but i don't hate her. stop sending me weird asks about her. they will be deleted
katie is a traitor to the sokeefe nation
always forever by alayda (@alaydabug2) and @ishipstrieefe (pro)
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
never change by lisa (@lisalovesapplesauce) (pro)
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
hate your lover, love your hater, and be studied by her friend by doe (@worldsunlikemyown) (anti)
context
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
treehouse by treehouse anon (pro)
chapter one
pride pin by pride pin anon (anti)
chapter one
chapter two
sometimes grief is acceptance by alayda (pro)
chapter one
chapter two
hold me like a grudge by emelin (@thishumanformislimiting) (pro)
chapter one
miscellaneous alayda fics (pro)
high on your love
the way to my heart is an a+
love in the air
chapter forty-two au (actually this one might be anti)
only your warmth
crossover (converted to anti by by me)
miscellaneous non-alayda fics (disclaimer: some of these could barely even be considered fics)
unnamed fic by anon one (anti)
unnamed fic by cricket (@gay-witches-are-the-best) (anti)
unnamed fix-it fic of alayda's makeout fic by anon two (anti)
unnamed fic by a.j. (@lgbtqforeverything) (anti)
unnamed fic by @kotlcpuppetshow (anti)
unnamed fic by anon three (anti)
atlantis blows the fuck up by anon four (????)
unnamed fic by @oopsies-maeve-did-a-thing (pro)
fanart (will it never end)
by alex (@the-soul-detectives) (pro)
fanart of alayda's chapter forty-two au by aspen (@aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen) (pro)
fix-it fanart of high on your love (alayda's makeout fic) by aspen (anti)
by connie (@absolutely-existing) (anti)
by alayda (pro)
by emelin (pro)
by emelin part two (pro)
by fin (@fintan-pyren) (pro)
fucking. songs. (and song-adjacent things like poems.) what world do i live in
unlikely couple by katie (@myfairkatiecat) (pro)
a ballad of keefe and stria by emelin (pro)
#i'm sobbing into my soup as i make this#this cannot be real#the reason i'm making this masterpost is that i'm tired of hunting down the previous parts to link in the newest chapters#so from now on i will only link this masterpost when new chapters of any fic come out. y'all can figure it out from there#strieefe definitely has more fics than some rairpairs at this point. just saying. what the fuck#the ones that don't have links are the ones currently in my inbox just so you all know. expect those to be posted whenever#and alayda. i have not linked the bh/bm ones because those are not really strieefe fics. at least not in my humble opinion#keefe sencen#kotlc keefe#kotlc#keefe would not like me and i don't like him
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Stranger part 7
Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.
Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.
Previous / series masterlist / next
☆☆☆
Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, but no smut, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.
Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.
☆☆☆
The clattering of cutlery let her know that she’d said something wrong. She froze in her seat as the kings eyes narrowed in on her. “Where did you hear that?”
“What, I didn’t-”
“Answer me, girl. Where did you hear that?” He was standing now, his presence menacing. “Besides, there’s no way a regular girl like you would’ve been able to take out all of those men. So, tell me, how did you do it? Are you another test? Another monster? What are you? Why are you here? I will not let you get in the way of-”
“That’s enough, my love.” Penelope interrupted her husband’s tirade. “This is your son’s greatest friend, the daughter of your own greatest friend, she’s no test. You’re just on high alert from all the years away from home.”
“You don’t understand, she-”
But Penelope shushed him. “I think it’s time for bed. Ónoma, you’re welcome to stay the night, Telemachus will walk you to your room.” Then she walked away, leading a visibly shaken Odysseus out of the room.
“I don’t understand, what did I say wrong?” Peach, too, was pretty shaken from the king’s outburst. Understandably so, as the man had taken on 108 suitors without knowing she’d be there to help.
“It’s fine Ónoma, he’s been having these outbursts since he got back.” Telemachus soothed his friend.
“Yeah, something similar happened when I mentioned how much luck he must have had to be the only one of 600 to return home.” Ctimene added.
“I can’t imagine what he must have faced during all those years away.” Peach muttered.
☆☆☆
“I can stay the night, if you want me to? It’ll be like when we were kids.” Telemachus offered, as the two sat on her bed. Whenever she’d stay at the castle, she would be given the same guest room, over time she’d let some of her belongings accumulate there.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I wouldn’t want to get on your fathers bad side. At least, not more than I already am.”
“C’mon Peach, it’s really not like that. He’s just on edge.”
“And yet I understand his concern.” Ónoma countered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I killed those men, Tele. They’re dead because of me, I don’t even know how I was able tot do it, what if I am a monst-”
“Enough of that.” Her friend said sternly. “You did it to protect my mother, and let’s be honest, yourself too. I don’t want to think about what the suitor would’ve done had you not been able to fend them off, or did you forget that you, too, are a woman?”
Her heart dropped at her friend’s words. “Of course I didn’t forget! That’s why I did it!” She raged. “I can’t afford to show mercy, not to those beasts, anyways.” She continued, softer, realisation hitting her. “Thank you, Tele.” She murmured. “I needed that.”
“I know.”
Outside of her bedroom window, an owl was perched. It hooted, before flying off. Telemachus softly shook his head, Peach thought it to be at her behaviour, but in reality it had been at his mentor’s antics.
☆☆☆
The next morning, Peach had left before breakfast, before anyone else had woken up, even. Telemachus’ and Ctimene’s attempt to play off the king’s outburst had not calmed her one bit. Even if they were speaking the truth, she did not want to set the man off again. Perhaps once the king had settled more she’d speak to him again, or if he sought her out.
When she returned home, she wasn’t ready to face Perikles, so she kept walking, now with her beloved instrument in hand. She settled somewhere along the shore, feet in the water, the sun slowly rising. She played mindlessly, softly humming a matching melody. Music always calmed her.
But now it seemed calmness was not something she would get, as the familiar but unfamiliar voice rang in her head once more. “So, you’re devoted to my brother, then? Pity. Usually, his followers are more seasoned with a bow, axes are more Hephaestus’ thing, or Demeter’s maybe.”
What? At least the word brother clued her in that this was a God, or Goddess. Someone related to Apollo.
“You’re quick to catch on, if not Apollo then Athena, maybe? Who do you work with, or worship, I should say.”
Well, oh mighty God of gossip, I don’t really ‘work with’ anyone. Just whoever fits the occasion, really.
“You’re bold, anyone else might’ve taken offence with such a tone? Can it even be considered a tone if it’s just your thoughts? I’ll have to ask Athena next time I run into her.”
Can you please get to the point? Or leave me alone? Whoever you are anyway.
“Feisty, put the claws away, darling. I would have loved to tell you my name, but you never asked. You have to actually ask questions to get answers, you know.”
…
“Go on, darling. Ask.”
What’s your name?
“Well at least I got the message across, the name’s Hermes. I actually came here to deliver a message, but you were just too much fun to mess with.”
What is the message?
“Straight to the point, huh? Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I never said that the message was for you, I mean, it is, but still.”
…
“Did you know that the Lyre used to be mine? I gave it to my brother in exchange for his cows when I was just a babe, I’m still quite fond of it. You play beautifully, who taught you?”
Would you please tell me of the message you bring, oh great lord Hermes?
“No.”
Please?
“At least your manners have improved, but no. You tell me who taught you to play, and I tell you the message. An exchange of information, a trade, if you will.”
Right, God of merchants. I taught myself, my brother once broke my Lyre, because of how bad I was at playing at the time. I suppose I’ve improved since.
“Oh, that was your brother? Apollo smote him real good, bet he learned his lesson.”
Dead men don’t learn.
“Now, now, why so serious, oh right the message! Your brother has reunited with your father!”
My dead father?
“Exactly, now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to resume playing.”
next
☆☆☆
A/N: girly is going through it. Also, I don’t mean for Hermes to come off as rude, rather as mischievous. He is a God, one who often visits the underworld at that, so he would not really understand the grief of mortals. I also want to portray the duality of Ctimene’s grief and relief some more, and I definitely want to dive into Odysseus’ PTSD. Maybe show some of Penelope’s caution around men too, dealing with those suitors for so long would’ve definitely made a person a bit jumpy.
Taglist:
@suckerforblondies
@barrythestrawberry041
@trashcannotbealive
@apollos-dodgeball-target
@doodle-with-rhy
#epic the ithaca saga#epic the musical#epic!poseidon#poseidon#poseidon x reader#telemachus#telemachus x reader#epic odysseus#hermes#epic hermes
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( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?
bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )
content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).
rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)
“gimme a kiss.”
your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.
his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”
you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”
you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”
you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.
he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”
oh. . . oh.
the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.
“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.
you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?
he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.
he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”
the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.
you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”
and the front door closes. damn.
☆ ☆
“you said what?!”
gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”
he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.
“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”
“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”
“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.
“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”
“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”
the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”
gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.
“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”
and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.
“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”
“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”
something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.
“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”
“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”
“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”
and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”
“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”
“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”
☆ ☆
so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.
and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.
he was still in the clear. whew.
and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.
he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.
he misses you, damn it.
there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.
if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)
he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.
well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”
you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.
he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”
“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?
“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”
“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.
“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”
ohhh, you cheeky brat.
“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”
“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”
“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.
suguru was right— he does love a challenge.
“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”
huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”
“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”
you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.
if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.
god, he thinks he’s in love.
☆ ☆
gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.
“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.
his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.
he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.
“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”
he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.
he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.
gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.
gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.
before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.
he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.
pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.
and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.
“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?
☆ ☆
he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.
he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.
it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.
“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”
“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.
“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”
“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”
he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.
a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”
“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”
“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.
“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”
“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?
he grabs his keys and slams his door close.
☆ ☆
you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.
“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?
“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”
“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”
gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”
“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”
“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.
your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.
“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”
“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.
your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.
“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.
“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”
when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”
you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.
“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.
he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.
he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”
you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.
gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.
your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”
“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”
“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”
“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”
“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”
he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.
and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.
your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.
“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”
“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.
gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.
he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”
“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”
the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.
“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.
so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.
he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.
he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.
“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”
keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.
“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”
when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.
“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”
your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.
he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.
you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.
so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.
it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.
his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.
he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,
“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”
gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)
#rena☆star.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk#jjk x you#gojo x you#x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n
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all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic
pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader
summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.
warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself
a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33
general masterlist
You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.
When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.
You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”
He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”
You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”
“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”
Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.
One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.
He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.
Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.
“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.
Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.
“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.
“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”
“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”
The room went dead silent.
Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.
Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”
You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”
“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”
“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.
“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”
“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”
He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”
“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.
You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”
Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.
After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.
As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.
He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.
You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”
He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”
The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”
You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”
His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.
“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”
Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”
“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.
You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.
Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.
His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.
When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”
Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”
At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”
Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.
Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”
Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”
“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.
Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.
“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.
“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”
You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.
“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.
“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”
“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.
Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.
A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”
You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.
“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”
Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”
Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.
“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—�� thrust— “fingers?”
And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.
You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.
And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”
“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.
It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.
“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.
He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”
#aashi writes#gojo x reader#Gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo Satoru x you#gojo Satoru x reader#gojo Satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo Satoru#gojo
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Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆status: completed
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆total word count: 218.5k (lmao my fingers slipped)
☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3
☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)
☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆discord server link here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)
You fucking touch her, you're dead.
➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)
Jungkook is Tae's best friend.
➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)
You know I hate that nickname.
➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)
You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.
➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)
I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.
➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)
We just pretend nothing happened, no?
➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)
I really want to kiss you right now.
➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything (15k)
Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?
➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)
I want you.
➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)
You make me insane.
➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)
I don’t want to lose you, peach.
➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)
Can’t wait for you to be back.
➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)
I can’t be with you.
➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)
I have to talk to him.
➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)
We never told each other how we felt.
➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)
You came?
➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.9k)
I think I was waiting for you my whole life.
➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)
Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.
Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)
➳Chapter 1.5: the first party (1.6k)
Then why are you bringing him home, peach?
➳Chapter 3.5: Valentine's Day (1.1k)
We should have hung out like this before.
➳Chapter 4.5: a walk through campus (852)
You love it, peach.
➳Chapter 5.5: the return to reality (2k)
You wanted to talk?
➳Chapter 6.5: hosting his friends at the apartment (4.4k)
What the fuck is wrong with you?
➳Chapter 7.5: when he realizes (2.5k)
Isn't she Taehyung's sister?
➳Chapter 8.5: the engagement party (6.6k)
Have fun while it lasts.
➳Chapter 9.5: jealous jungkook (3k)
Shouldn’t I prove to you that you’ve got nothing to worry about?
➳Chapter 10.5: the morning before Paris (1.7k)
I promise I'll come back to you and make it work.
➳Chapter 11.5: the kiss (1.2k)
Just this once.
➳Chapter 12.5: after losing you (4.6k)
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
➳Chapter 13.5: returning home (4k)
What am I supposed to do?
➳ Chapter 14.5: losing you again (3k)
I can't believe you've been wearing the necklace
➳Chapter 15.5: a conversation with Taehyung, and his reunion with you (2.6k)
It’s never been like that with her.
☆☆☆☆☆
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
#chasing cars masterpost#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#chasing cars#chasing cars series
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666 ― S.JY
When does an interest in the supernatural become unnatural? You’d say right around the time a spirit told you to write his name with your own….body fluids
minors dni! | reblog to summon a hot demon
WORDCOUNT― 4.8k
PAIRING― demon!Jake x reader (ft. boyfriend Sunghoon)
CONTENT― Jake the jealous demon and is also a massive cocky asshole, reader the instigator. made up sex magic, Jake is A VERY horny demon. sunghoon also wants demon jake. peep the smut tags lol
WARNINGS ― infidelity but like ur cheating with a sex demon so, some instances could be mistaken for manipulation
NOTE― this is a halloween fic that i forgot about that i wrote for haechan on my other blog ncteez. if you’re one of the few who actually read this before, just know that I am the same person!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― cock mimicking (demon fucks you with your boyfriend’s cock), forked tongue play, finger fucking, ghostly foreplay, HUGE MASSIVE COCK PENETRATION, mind reading, horns react to touch the same way a cock does ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You've always been into halloween, Sunghoon just thought it was a cute little quirk of yours. Until he started dating you and realized that...it's not just halloween that you're into. It's just a general list of things that would be considered disturbing on any other month that isn't october.
Deities, spirits, ghouls, demons, bones, death, blood.
He's supportive, of course. October is one of the months you're allowed to openly enjoy these things, because everyone pretends to like them too at this time of year. Temporary stores open up to sell the congealed fake blood, ouija boards are moved to the outside aisles of retail stores, and of course, everything is on sale.
This is great for Sunghoon because, as your boyfriend, he knows you celebrate the month of halloween more than you celebrate your own birthday, and the gifts can be plentiful.
Lately, you've been more interested in spirit work too, so when he's on his way home from work to see you, stopping by one of those chaotic halloween stores to grab a fancy, way too expensive if not on sale ouija board? It was a given.
Anything to see that cute smile on your face.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well. The ouija board miiiiiight have been a mistake on his part.
Knowing next to nothing on spirit work, he wasn't expecting a board game sold in children's stores to actually pick anything up for you. Yet, night after night when he comes home, you approach him with a tight hug, an excited smile, and stories of which spirit gave you their name this time.
You, on the other hand, claim to know more about spirit work than you actually do. You did not expect to get any type of response either, especially in this pristine apartment that you assume no one has died in yet.
You learned fast though. Research, research, research.
"Today I learned that spirits aren't actually trapped in one space like all the ghost movies try to say. They might be connected but they can freely come and go." You smile against Sunghoon as he settles himself on the couch, freshly showered after work.
"You really like playing with that thing, huh?" He smiles back, still believing in the shallowness of it all, when it comes to corporate companies selling boards for people to "connect with loved ones".
Nodding to him, you stand up and look at him expectantly.
"Do you wanna try?"
He's reluctant at first. As much as he supports you and your interests, they aren't his.
He's great at humoring you though. Amazing, even.
"Yeah, why not?" He smiles, standing to his tired feet and following you into the bedroom.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
"Two fingers on both hands," You quietly guide him on how to use it. "If you're not comfortable asking questions, I can do it."
Sunghoon nods casually, still not quite believing in the gimmick but loving the way you're so passionate.
"I don't mind asking, can I try?"
You frown, knowing exactly what will happen when he does.
"Yeah, of course!" You turn your frown into something unreadable, hoping that the same spirit you've been talking to is off at some middle school party switching the lights to get a kick out of it.
Then, there's silence. The candle's flame that you had previously lit bounces in the still air, indicating that tonight is already primed for the various spirits you've willingly accepted into your space.
"Uh," Sunghoon suddenly feels awkward, speaking out to nothing in the room when you're right in front of him, watching him. "Hello?"
You snicker at his awkwardness, knowing that you felt it too.
"Is there anything–anyone– here tonight? We'd like to talk."
Here's the thing. From the moment you started fucking with this oujia board, you never watched your words. You assumed that using proper grammar when speaking wouldn't matter much, considering they're dead and all. You keep it respectful, of course, but...
Anything being in your apartment is a huge difference compared to anyone.
The anythings tend to make a run for it, and the anyones are forced to stay away from the dangerous energy you're unintentionally inviting.
Speaking of the anythings, there's a regular. If your frown from moments ago is anything to go by. A vulgar spirit which you know as nothing more than "Jae".
Jae, the spirit, claims to be in his twenties, slides the planchette with just your fingers on it to numbers and letters with ease, and also is very fond of sarcasm, apparently.
The last time you spoke with this specific spirit, it ended it you asking him if he left any loved ones behind when he died. The board said yes, Jae said yes.
He claimed to be male, he claimed to have died ten years ago, and claims to have been in love.
And when you tried to relate, speaking of your boyfriend, saying your boyfriend's name, the spirit stopped responding. In fact, the board flew straight across your room as you spoke of Sunghoon.
Arguably, you were thrown off and only a little bit afraid. You definitely weren't the one who swiped the board off your bed, letting it hit your wall.
Which is why, while inviting Sunghoon to try the board, you hope that said spirit is off doing other things.
Which he's not.
Sunghoon's eyes nearly roll when he feels the planchette pull, dragging to the word of "yes" after you spoke out after his awkward greeting.
"You're pulling it, right?"
You ignore him, already locked in and staring at the board.
"Can you give me your name?" You whisper, now glancing up to Sunghoon and waiting for the planchette to move again.
It does, straight to the "J", and as it continues, you lift your hands out of discomfort, unintentionally proving to your boyfriend that you're not moving it.
"A" Sunghoon whispers as he stares in disbelief, feeling his hands move against the ghostly board. "E."
And when the planchette stops, he looks at you.
"Why'd you let go?" He says, glancing between both you and the board. "This is insane!" A smile.
You can see the same excitement you had the first time it moved for you, but the fact that the same spirit is back, after rudely throwing your board across the room at the mere mention of Sunghoon is a bit worrisome.
"Jae?" Sunghoon calls out, now feeling the adrenaline in his blood push past the anxiety of talking to nothing. "How did you die?"
"Sunghoon! You can't just ask him that!"
"Him?" Sunghoon side eyes you. "What makes you think it's a guy?"
You avoid eye contact.
"Well," You tick your tongue. "He's kind of told me like, two weeks ago. Plus, that’s a dude’s name."
Sunghoon laughs, making jokes. This is harmless. This is fun.
"Oh?" Sunghoon tilts his head, lifting his fingers to encourage you to place yours back against the planchette too. "Jae, have you been flirting with my girlfriend?"
It was a joke of a question, and quite disrespectful in your mind for him to ask such a thing, but the way the planchette moves to "yes" has you sweating, and kind of, smiling.
A spirit, jealous of Sunghoon? Not something you had on your bingo card for the year.
"So you think I'm pretty?" You smile, avoiding your boyfriend's eye and watching the planchette move over to "no".
Your smile falls, and the planchette moves again.
"H."
"O."
"T."
You actually cannot explain the warmth inside of you. Flirting with a ghost, while your boyfriend participates? Hilarious scenario, surely Sunghoon isn't taking this seriously.
"You're moving it now, there's no way some dead guy is coming after my girl." Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head.
The planchette responds, moving to "no."
"Alright, stop fucking around." Sunghoon narrows his eyes at you. "A spirit wouldn't take the energy to contact us just to call you hot."
The planchette responds again, moving to the letter "B."
"Take your hands off again, there's no way." He seems more concerned this time.
"I."
"T."
"C."
"H."
Sunghoon's mouth falls open.
"Who are you calling a bitch? Me, or my very hot girlfriend that you can't have?"
"Y."
"O."
And as the planchette makes it way over to the "u" Sunghoon lifts his hands and glares at every empty space around the room.
"He just called me a bitch." Sunghoon rolls his eyes. "There is a spirit in this room, who thinks i'm a bitch."
You laugh uncomfortably, and he laughs more casually.
"Well, that was fun, I guess." Sunghoon continues, standing to his feet as you cross your fingers that the board wont go flying into his head. "I'm gonna go take a shower then."
He kisses you gently on the forehead and leaves you alone in the room where, obviously, you're still not alone.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Days pass and Halloween draws closer as you are both drawn to and forcing yourself away from the ouija board.
Something calls you to it. Whispers of your name when Sunghoon isn't home, feather light touches that raise your skin, nightmares, but your gut tells you to stay away.
Can you though? Can you really resist such a strange happening?
Of course not.
Spirit work is fun, but you can't help but wonder if this entity is a spirit at all. Out of all the research, people rarely get more than one to two answers during a session of Ouija. This Jae thing seems to hold a lot of energy, an entire personality, and the ability to haunt you in a way that makes you feel weirdly.......safe?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
"Jae, are you here?" You call out in the early morning, the oujia board tucked safely under your bed as you lay there.
Your curtains move as if the window is open.
"The dream I had last night, was that you?" You continue to speak into the void, allowing it to speak back.
Except it doesn't speak back, it touches. You feel your ankle being tugged, as you scoot down the bed.
Most people would scream. Most people would call a priest. Most people wouldn't want to be alone with it. Then again, you're not most people.
You laugh, scooting yourself back up on the bed.
"I wish I could see what you really look like. In my dreams, you're just a shadow."
Another tug, and then the oujia board goes sliding out from under your bed, indicating that he wants to communicate better with you.
You take the bait, lying the board out with your sleepy eyes and drowsily smiling at the empty space in front of you.
Before you can even place your hands on the planchette, it's moving.
"S"
"U"
"M"
"M"
"O"
"N"
You should probably be running for the hills after that, but you don't. You sit, still drowsy.
"How would I manage to do that?"
"S"
"L"
"E"
"E"
"P"
And for some reason, you do. Instantly, you go back to sleep. Despite waking up without an alarm, the drowsy feeling stayed throughout your morning conversation with the spirit in your apartment. Dozing off came easy, with the oujia board still in front of you.
And there, you dream despite knowing that the sun is hitting your face as you sleep. You can feel the warmth of it in the dream as a creature, no, a man, approaches you in an empty expanse of fog.
In your dream, you cannot speak despite trying to. No voice comes out, but the man speaks smoothly, fuzzy and distorted face slowly untwisting itself into that of an actual man.
That's him. You can feel it through your heavy sleep, your hairs raising both in the astral realm and in your waking body.
"You want to summon me?" The man asks, smiling at you in a heavenly way. "You have to say my full name."
You can't speak back, but he continues.
"You have to be alone, though others can still join if the door is open. On both ends."
You stand, listening to his echoed voice through the fog.
"If you want me in the physical form, you have to do something physical for me." He continues, stepping closer and closer until his body is nearly going through you. "Say my name each time you're pleasured, and write my name against your skin with the mess of it."
You quirk a brow, and the form in front of you smiles.
"What? You thought I'd let you summon me for anything else? I've been here for thousands of years."
You thought he died ten years ago.
"Angel pussy only gets so tight, you know."
Vulgar. Yet, your physical body is tingling. Angel pussy? Is he an angel? From a religion you don't even believe in?
He notes the confusion on your dreaming face.
"You see me now, my face, if you want to feel me too, you'll do as I say." His dreamed up voice is something you know you've never heard before. His face, someone you've never seen.
You know it's not possible to dream of a physical person you've never seen, and he's so clear to you at this moment. Practically feeling his voice blow in your face.
His hair, messy, almost wet looking. His eyes are piercing, his lips, pretty.
You nod, and he smiles.
"And don't invite your boyfriend."
Then, you snap awake. Feeling as if you've just had the wettest of dreams.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Naturally, you listened to the figure in the dream, using every pleasurable mess your body makes to write his name on your skin. A name which came to you without him stating it at all in the dream.
Days go by, his name remains on your skin.
Halloween comes and, well, so does Sim Jaeyun.
Finally.
October 30th, 11:59am is the last moment of your life where you'll be curious. October 31st, 12:00am is the first moment of your life where a ghostly touch became a real one.
You were awake, of course you were. And alone.
Sunghoon tends to spend the 30th with you, and the 31st with his parents, helping to tend to the haunted house his family likes to throw each year.
"You're alone?" You hear, whispered against your ear as you slouch against the couch.
The echoed voice is all to familiar, sending a shock through your body in an instant and you turn, only to see nothing.
"Jae?" You question into the air, glancing around the room.
A deep chuckle is heard in your other ear, and a cold feeling is felt against your cheek.
"Entirely alone?" The voice sounds out.
"I've done what you told me to do, and I still can't see you.”
"I know." The voice sounds further away now, and you follow it all too easily.
Straight into your room, you follow the whispers. You see the board get thrown again, and you tilt your head.
"You're upset?" You question to the emptiness, and you get no response at all until you feel it.
Ice cold pressure running from your ankles to the nape of your neck. Traveling up and down your body until you can barely stand the feeling of goosebumps refusing to go down.
Thunder. Lightening, and then the sound of raining rattling against your window.
You sigh at the new feeling, your legs moving on their own to your bed as you lay against it in a feeling of cold comfort.
"One more time." You feel the whisper before you truly hear it, a weight on your bed, a weight hovering over you. "Write my name."
The ice cold feeling strikes between your legs, instantly giving you the very material to do as he says. And you do, dipping your fingers between your legs in awe at the feeling of how fast you manage to get wet over this.
And there, you feel the weight against your hand, almost as if he's writing his name himself against your thigh.
And you wait.
and wait.
and wait, until....
"Close your eyes."
You do, not daring to open them until he says. You feel that ice cold energy leave, replaced with a searing hot feeling, something that makes you sweat, something that makes you shake.
You hear shuffling, you hear your bedroom door opening and closing, you hear mumbled whispers in a different language, and then you hear his voice in real space. Bouncing off your walls rather than being implied right up against your ear.
"Open your eyes."
You open them to your empty room sitting just as you left it, the air feeling neutral, the oujia board looking much less magical as it lays on the floor. Then you hear your door open. Instantly your eyes glance to the space there.
"It's you." You whisper out, looking him up and down, feeling overwhelmed, and quite frankly, astonished.
"Of course it's me, you summoned me." The figure smiles, looking nothing more than a man despite something being...off. Which is obvious, but still stirs your stomach uncomfortably.
"You're no spirit, are you?" You blurt, unsure of how rude it may seem to him.
"Oh no, clearly not." The figure looms over, taking visible strides towards you before holding his hand out to truly feel you for the first time. "I got you good though, didn't I?"
"What are you, then?" You question, ignoring that you've been writing his name on your skin day after day with the slick your orgasms produce.
"Does it matter? I'm only here physically for the night." He glares deeply at your questions. So willing to bring him here, but so unwilling to complete the other half of the deal that he, maybe, didn't expand on in previous communications.
You stare at him, still trying to process that the so-called spirit you were so excited to speak to before, is here, now, in flesh. With a voice, and a body that doesn't entirely appear to be breathing at all. He looks so human, so, so, human, yet so....not.
He doesn't falter at your reaction much longer though. It's been hundreds of years since he's managed to get a woman to call out for him in such a vulgar way. It was funny to him, really, looming in every corner watching you do as he instructed. Reading your mind when you're intimate with Sunghoon.
"Last night– you were thinking of me instead.." Jaeyun smiles warmly, uncaring of how strongly he comes off because opinions and thoughts are something he is well versed in.
He can read everything you're thinking, and you want it. He's gentle when he moves to you, claiming his spot hovering over you, staring down at your eyes. He never knew what it was like to look at someone, to cherish and love, even. He only knows how to look into and through a person.
"I did." You admit, unable to look away from him, unable to feel fear, or pretend that you want to squirm away from his weight loosely pinning you against the bed. "Were you always here? Watching?"
He nods with a smile.
"Quite pretty when you're writing my name," He comments, leaning down to lick against your bottom lip. "If only you knew what it all meant, in the grand scheme of things."
"Hm?" You try to question, feeling like you're in a trance by the way his tongue flicks out so quickly, satiating your entire body with just that single act.
"Six times." He breathes. "You did so well."
You sigh at the feeling of nothing, as he pulls his face back from yours. There's still a ghostly pressure against all of the right places, and he's very aware of it.
"I own you." He comments with a chuckle, moving his hand down your body to feel the wet he created with no effort at all. "You'll never be rid of me."
You find....great pleasure in that. He knows you do. Even if he couldn't read every thought behind your eyes, the way your body moves toward his hand is enough to go by.
Humans, so desperate. So obsessed with praise, so...selfish. Just like him. Time and time again, he will grow bored of the sex other realms offer. It doesn't matter how many forms of fog he can get his claws on. Becoming human, being with a human, it sears hotter for him.
Makes him hotter. Makes him feel like the god who damned him.
"I'm a demon, babe." He laughs, now effectively thrusting two fingers into you and enjoying the way you seethe out at the heat he can't help but emit.
Deep down, you knew. You accepted it. You brought him here, you kept him here. You simply don't care. Otherworldly beings are meant to give curiosity. Who cares if you gave in? You didn't know where your everlasting soul would end up anyway, at least now you know that it'll end up with this....humanly thing who works his fingers like magic.
Because it is magic. Hellish magic.
"Is this what you always look like?" You ask, "Is this what you always sound like?"
The demon chuckles against your throat, fingers making little effort in the way it quite literally feels like you're already having the best sex of your human life.
"Does it matter? You gave yourself to me, I can be whatever you want me to be." He whispers out, licking against your naked skin.
That's right. Somehow, you're undressed. You felt no fabric, and you could honestly care less if he snapped them into the void.
You moan at the feeling, comprehending only slightly how his tongue went from flat and humanly to...forked. Two tips of his tongue, wrapped around your nipple, moving smoothly, wetly, hotly against you in a way that feels as blasphemous as it looks.
And when you reach up, on your very earthly instinct to grip his hair, you're met with a pair of curled horns.
You moan again, and he chuckles, knowing that this is for your pleasure, not his own quite yet.
"You can touch them." He insists, sliding his fingers out of you and writing his name again against your thigh, essentially sealing the contract you already agreed to. "You'll have no choice but to hold on to them later."
You, for some reason, take that promise as if it is seared into your fate. Forever damned to take hold of a demon's horns, forever blessed to be fucked by him.
"I like that thought," the demon chuckles with a second voice, seemingly penetrating your thoughts more than the place between your legs right now. "Blessed." He smiles, tongue long as it remains against your nipple and yet, he still is able to lift up to make eye contact with you. "Cute."
You're so entranced by the happenings in this moment, that Sunghoon seems...lesser. He feels like the past to you, as you feel and experience a hellish hand, and a hellish tongue. Soon, possibly, to experience whatever kind of cock demons have.
"Lesser? Fitting." he comments straight into your thoughts with that second voice, soothing your ambitions of being anyone other than his. "and my cock..."
You listen so intently to that second voice, your body is burning up with pleasure. The way he continues to write his name on your skin somehow feels better than when his fingers were inside of you. All of it feels better than anything you've ever felt in your life.
"It can be more, can be less, can be bigger, smaller, doubled, tripled, and even..." His secondary voice pauses with a chuckle, "if you're into experimenting, i am and will be whatever body you're interested in being fucked by."
That...seems exciting.
And it is. Trading a human life for whatever the fuck this is seems like such a great idea. Entranced or not, you still have a mind of your own and it's one that wanted this. He knows it, you know it, and no one else needs to know it.
"That's right, work your little brain." He pulls back, leaving your nipples more than swollen while he uses his real voice. Raspy, vulgar, enticing. "You made this choice." He taunts, flattening his palm against your thigh and pressing your legs open, hooking one above his other leg and instantly sliding into you.
The moment he hears your thoughts, searing in the pain you summoned upon yourself, he smiles. He coos out, pitying the way you so willingly want this deal to be real. And oh, it's so real.
That pain you're feeling with the cock he perfected just for you. He knows what you want.
"Familiar?" He smiles wickedly against your neck, darting his tongue out to lick a searing heat against you.
You can barely think through the feeling of his cock practically morphing inside of you. The pain from before, with the large hardened length turning into that of something...not only familiar but, too familiar.
He's fucking you with Sunghoon's cock, and can't help but notice how much you fight against wanting anything other than that.
"Too familiar?" He repeats your thoughts, stretching you open more than you think you ever have been, as his cock becomes thicker, heavier, hotter. "So, mine will do then?"
You try to nod, but you're a bit busy trying to comprehend the fact that a demon cock is quite literally tearing you apart right now, on Halloween fucking night. How grossly cliche.
"We like gross though, don't we?" He smiles, pulling his length out only a bit, and feeling the way your pussy grips it as if you'd find a way to threaten him for not keeping you filled to the brim. "You like feeling like you're being split in half, don't you?"
You do nod this time, arms reaching up to his horns and squeezing tightly. He grunts at it, loving the feeling of someone touching on him while lying helpless beneath him. Such willpower you have, such willpower you don't want.
He feels what you feel, that pain? You love it. The warmth in his horns? Nearly pulsing against your palms at the pleasure of this act? You love that too.
"It's like you were made for the hells, babe." He comments snidely, pulling out, then pushing into you roughly. "Made just for me." He continues, claiming you, fucking you, all while knowing that you're already his.
All while knowing that there's another person entering this apartment, and you're too far gone to pretend that this isn't temptation. It's willingful lust, and it's a deed you signed for.
"Weren't you?" His secondary voice demands that you respond with your voice rather than your thoughts, as he continuously stimulates your entire body through his own made up form.
"Weren't you?" He echoes again, real and secondary voice now filling your senses alongside the squeezing in your gut, your g-spot stimulated by a demon cock seemingly built for doing just this. A body built for pleasure, a demon created for it.
"Weren't you?" He echoes through a seethed whisper, tongue darting out and between your lips, forcing an answer from you.
You wail out in pleasure, sheer lack of humanity showing through the sound. He loves the way you sob a "yes!" through amazement. Humans aren't meant to comprehend what he's doing to you, or what he will do to you.
Humans aren't meant to accept seeing either, yet, here comes Sunghoon. Sprinting to the room where he's just heard his beloved girlfriend scream.
Only to find you gripping onto a pair of pulsing horns. Legs spread wider for this creature than they ever were for him. A forked tongue looking as if it's sucking the life straight from your throat.
But those screams aren't from pain, Sunghoon sees it plainly.
The sound of a cock too big for you, pleasuring you. The grip you have on this creature, and the grip that creature has on you.
Sunghoon can't find it in him to even ask what the fuck is going on. He just stands there frozen, knowing you don't notice him there. Who would?!
The creature, makes eye contact.
"I tried to fuck her with your cock," It echoes out to him in a, almost apologetic voice and it sends shivers down his spine. "She needed more."
Sunghoon is still standing in the doorway of your bedroom. Frozen solid, his heart is racing as he watches that he's not only being cheated on but like, goddamn, with a fucking....thing?! Not even a person?
Your ears are ringing, sure you've orgasms a dozen times by now, both feeling all of it and not feeling any of it at all because the demon just keeps going. Listening to your every thought, cooing at each orgasm and willing more, more, more. Until he can trace his name six hundred and sixty six times into your skin. "You could be mine too, Sunghoon." The demon calls out, forcing his voice into the man's head, reading every thought, half-assed prayer, and unbelievable idea of trying to intervene. "I know you want to."
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JEALOUS - C.S
summary; while your boyfriend is streaming, one specific girl keeps gifting, and you begin to feel jealous of all the attention she's receiving, so chris comes to show you some attention too...
warnings; smut, unprotected sex (wrap the willy), tit sucking, dirty talk, teasing, praising, leaving hickeys, spanking, i think that's it..?
a/n; i have more ideas for fics, but please feel free to leave suggestions/recommendations on what fics u want to see and ill provide like a fairy godmother (unless it's some crazy shit like a shit kink, get out).
It was currently 1am, and my boyfriend and I were cuddled up in his bed watching our favourite series. I loved nights where I was able to just lay in bed with Chris and relax, especially with the chaotic lives we both live.
However, this didn't last long.
"Yo, wanna stream late night fort duos?" Matt questions, walking into the room. Chris looks down at my face, which is currently resting on his chest.
"Would you mind if I streamed with Matt for a few hours, baby?" He asks. There's a look of hope in his eyes, and who am I to deny him having fun with his brother.
"Of course not, you don't have to ask me," I reply, giving a small smile. I love cuddling with Chris, but I don't mind letting him play fortnite with his brother. He'll probably hop off in a few hours and come back to bed anyway.
As he slowly stands up from his bed, he gives me a small thanks before moving to his desk. I watched him attentively as he placed his headphones on his fluffy hair and turned on his monitor, which illuminated a soft blue light onto his face.
I could watch him all day and night. He was the most beautiful man I've ever seen. The way his hair was slightly damp, from coming out the shower not long ago, and the way his facial hair looks without a few days of shaving. God, he was perfect.
"Hellooo people," he says, adjusting his mic. I didn't even realise that he had started the stream already.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand so I could distract myself from all the screaming and shouting that was bound to happen.
~
It had been roughly an hour and a half since the stream first started, and Chris and Matt were still playing reload, and I was still scrolling on tiktok.
"HOLY SHIT, AVA WITH THE 100 BOMB!" Chris yells, making me turn my head to look at him. I loved how grateful Chris always is, whether people gift 1 or 100, Chris was always so thankful. I really did get lucky with him.
A few moments later Chris shrieks, "No fuckin' way, another 50 subs from Ava,". I turn to look at him again and he has the widest grin on his mouth.
"Everyone spam 'w Ava' in the chat," He says, focusing back in on his game.
I honestly don't know how some people are able to gift so much. I've seen the price of subs, and they are priceyyy. Yet, some people gift hundreds and hundreds.
"AVA WITH ANOTHER 50, HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE THE GOAT AVA," He yells again, shuffling in his chair.
What the fuck? This girl dropped a bag on subs in 5 minutes.
This continues for another half an hour, and to be honest, I'm getting sick of it. Don't get me wrong, I love that they're getting subs but it's the same fucking girl. Can she give it a rest? She's been spamming them with subs, and Chris is not letting it go unnoticed to anyone.
I look over to Chris, and he's smiling wider than ever. He must realise I'm staring at him, so he turns to look at me back.
As soon as we make eye contact, I shuffle on the bed and turn my back to him. From the corner of my eye, I can see his smile fade, and he turns back to his game.
I don't know why I'm feeling like this. I'm not upset about the subs. Is it jealousy? Am I feeling jealous of all the attention Chris is giving this random girl? I guess I am. It's hard not to when he left cuddling you to praise some random girl on the internet.
"Matt, I'm lowkey getting tired. After this round, I'm gonna hop off," Chris says, and through my peripheral vision, I can see him look at me.
He's lying. He's not tired at all, it's only 3am. He can sense something is wrong with me, and that's why he's hopping off the game.
But, as he said, he finished up the round and ended stream.
"Babe, what's wrong?" He asks, standing up from the chair and making his way over to me on the bed. I pretend not to hear him and shuffle slightly further away from him. He notices my actions and repeats his question.
"Why are you in a mood? Is it cause I streamed with Matt?" He continues to ask questions, but I continue to ignore him. I don't know why I'm doing this. Maybe I just want him to pay attention to me, too.
He realises the game I'm playing and decides to change the rules.
He leans down and begins to place soft kisses on my neck. I'm fighting to not close my eyes and keep looking at my screen, but the feeling is consuming me, and I let my eyes flutter close.
"Why are you ignoring me, baby? What can I do to hear your pretty voice, hm?" He says between kisses. Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.
He then grabs my phone out of my hand and throws it somewhere on the bed. He forcefully turns me to lay on my back and places himself between my legs, bringing his face up to mine.
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or do you want to keep playing the silent game?" He challenges. I'm looking into his dark and tired eyes, enough to get lost in them.
"It's not fair," I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
"What's not fair, my love?" He asks, rewarding me with another kiss on my neck for answering him.
"All the attention you were showing that stupid girl," I say. My panties are already soaked by the few simple kisses that he had given me. If he continues like this, I'll have to wring out my thong.
A smirk subtly grows on his lips, and he dips his head back down to my neck for another reward. "Are you jealous, baby?" He whispers against my skin.
Fuck. He was driving me insane.
"Yeah, so what?" I ask, challenging him back. I then feel his lips attach to my neck. I gasp softly when he begins to lightly suck on my sweet spot.
"I'm so sorry baby, let me show you the attention you deserve," he says, moving back up to my face. His soft lips crash into mine, and his hands explore my body. My body feels like it's on fire, and I'm craving him more than ever.
"Chris, please," I beg. I'm begging him for something more, I need more.
"I know, baby," he coos. He then brings his hands to the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head when he sees my nod of approval. He instantly wraps his warm mouth around my nipple and I shudder at the new sensation. He lifts his hand to my other nipple and begins to roll it between his fingertips.
By now, soft moans are escaping my mouth from the stimulation, but I'm still hungry for more. I buck my hips at him to indicate what I really want. He notices my desperate actions and separates himself from my chest.
He hooks his fingers over the band of my sweatpants and yanks them down, revealing my soaked thong.
"Fuck, look at you," He rasps, admiring the patch of wetness that seeped through my underwear. I whine at his comment, I need him so bad. He then peels his own clothes off, leaving himself in just his boxers.
As he pulls his last item of clothing off, his swollen cock sprung out. I sigh at the sight in front of me. I'll never get over this view.
"Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees," he says stroking his cock a few times and rubbing his pre-cum all over his head.
I swiftly move into the position he ordered, and I feel his hand on my lowerback, pushing me into a deeper arch. At this point, my ass is completely in the air, and I'm ready for him to use me.
I feel him pull my thong to the side, letting the cold air in the room hit my warm and wet pussy. With no hesitation, he slides his cock into me with ease, filling me up. We both moan at the contact.
He instantly starts ramming into me, showing no mercy whatsoever. My arms give out immediately, and my face is smushed into a pillow.
"Isn't this what you wanted? My attention," He grunts out from behind me, placing a firm slap on my right ass cheek. I let out a strangled moan, allowing myself to grip the bedsheets.
"Answer you attention whore," he repeats, placing another slap on my ass.
"Y-yes, fuck!" I yelp. He continues to ruthlessly fuck my pussy and I feel the heat in my lower stomach build. I was coming close to finishing. Between the dirty talk, the spanks, and of course the fucking, I wasn't going to last long at all.
"C-chris m'gonna...f-finish," I stutter out. My knuckles are turning white from how intensely I'm gripping the sheets.
"Yeah? Come on my cock like the good girl you are," he groans, placing another spank on my cheek. I bet that by now, my ass is glowing red.
His words push me over the edge, and I violently shake beneath him, allowing a flow of curse words to leave my mouth as he helps me ride out my high and bring himself to his own.
"Fuck. Your such a jealous whore and look how I have you, you think I'm fuckin' other girls like this? Hm?" He asks, pounding into me even harder. I'm starting to become oversensitive, but I know he's about to come any second.
I feel his hands grip my hips hard enough to leave bruises and his warm cum coats my insides. His movements begin to slow, and I let out a satisfied sigh. I feel him pull his limp cock out of my full pussy and he moves to lay beside me.
I crumble next to him and place my head on his chest. Our sweaty bodies are still for a moment as we attempt to catch our breath after the best cardio session ever.
"Jealousy cured?" He smiles, looking down at me.
"Definitely. I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier," I apoligise, giving a sincere smile. Before he can reply, his phone buzzes.
"Who the fuck is texting at almost 4am?" He questions, as he unlocks his phone. He opens his texts and sees a message from Matt:
'Tired my ass, u guys are disgusting'
He pans his phone over to me, and we both die from laughter. The rest of the night is spent cuddling and watching tv together, just the way I love it.
a/n; this is long as shitttt. anywhoo, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed another one of my 4am creations. love youu <33.
#★°.*sturnioloszn*.°★#christopher owen sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut
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You would hit BELIEVE how happy I am that you’re writing fics for Declan O’Hara he’s my new DILF obsession!!! Also it was so well-written and in-character, oh my goodness!
I was wondering if I could request a fic where Declan and female!reader are having an affair, and she’s super nervous because she’s Taggie’s best friend. She meets Declan one night in his car, and he calms her down and, obviously, they have car sex.
Ending this with a huge I LOVE YOUR WORK
Shut Up and Drive.
It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.
declan o’hara x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. cheating. declan and his dirty mouth. one use of the c word. overuse of the nickname sweetheart.
word count - 3k
authors note - the minute he put that baby blue t shirt on… I was suddenly on my knees. funny how that happens. can’t and won’t stop with the fics for this man. I am riding the rivals train to the ends of the earth, baby. thanks for being so sweet, anon <3
masterlist. inbox.
The phone is shaking in your trembling hand, cord all tangled where you keep twisting it around your finger nervously.
“Hello?”
You almost drop the receiver at the sound of that familiar Irish accent, despite the fact that you were the one that rang him. It has your stomach churning, in a different way than usual.
“H-hi,” you barely whisper, before clearing your throat and trying again. “Hi. It’s me.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” he breathes, as if it’s the first time he’s taken a lungful of air all day.
“I, um… I’m sorry to call you on the house phone. I know it’s not how we do things usually.”
“It’s alright. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just, uh… I called to say that I can’t do this anymore.”
“Sweetheart-”
“I would have told you in person, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you next, so.”
“Can we-” he begins, before lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, “-can we talk about this properly? Please?”
“We can’t. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”
“Sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. One conversation. You’re not ending this in a quick phone call on a Wednesday night, you hear me?”
You inhale deeply, biting at your lips. There’s pure anxiety radiating through your body, prickly and unrelenting.
“I hear you,” you murmur down the receiver. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “I’m gonna come and get ya - we’ll go for a drive, alright?”
“Sorry you have to lie,” you whisper, guilt colouring your tone.
“I’d lie for you a thousand times over.”
His words shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as they do, but alas. Here you are.
“I’ll put some shoes on.”
“And a coat. It’s cold as fuck tonight.”
You half laugh, half snort at him down the phone, dreamily imagining the grin he most likely has painted on his face listening to you.
“Yes sir,” you tease, giggling. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll drive up without my headlights on. Look out for me, yeah?”
“I will.”
I always do, you think to yourself. I always do.
The line goes dead abruptly, the buzzing vibrating straight into your temples. You slip your shoes on, quickly fixing your hair and touching up your makeup in the mirror in the hallway while you’re there. You shrug your arms into your coat at Declan’s orders, knowing he’d tell you off if you turned up without it on.
You’ve almost forgotten the entire reason you called in the first place was to break things off with him.
Almost.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
True to his word, Declan drives up your road without his headlights on, slowly and with practised precision.
You’re waiting at the window for him, patiently anticipating the sight of that stupid yellow car. You’re out of the door in seconds as soon as you see him, bounding towards the passenger side and slipping in before anyone notices. He drives off quickly, not taking any time to say hello before he’s taking off out of the town and towards the rolling countryside.
You drive for a good fifteen minutes, to a spot the two of you frequent on your drives. It’s a dirt track, leading to nothing but fields for miles on end. Declan pulls the car around the bend and out of sight from the busier road, knowing that it has more than enough privacy. You’ve never been caught here before, and you don’t plan to start.
Finally turning off the engine, he turns to face you, taking in how the moonlight illuminates your features in the lowlight of the car.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi.”
You’re refusing to look at him, knowing that if you do, you’ll surge over and kiss him until you’re both dizzy. You can feel his gaze on you, though, intense and unwavering. As it always is.
His thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his determined brown eyes. You’re willing yourself not to crumble, but you can feel your resolve starting to slip already.
“I missed you,” he whispers, careful not to spook you.
“I missed you too,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Shit.”
He chuckles, and the low timbre of it settles right in the pit of your stomach.
“What’s all this about then, hmm? The phone call?”
“What did you tell Taggie? Where did you say you were going?”
It’s your least favourite part about all of this, the lying. Lying to Taggie, to Patrick, to Caitlin, to Rupert, to your friends, to your family. Coming up with excuses has become second nature - something you hate about yourself now. You hate how it comes so naturally to both of you these days.
“Told her I was going to meet someone about some potential research for a show. She had evening plans anyway, she’s off out to Lizzie’s.”
You’re fiddling with your fingers, picking at your nails in a nervous habit as you chew your bottom lip. If anxiety was personified, it’d be you.
“You avoided my question. We need to talk about what you said on the phone, sweetheart.”
Taking a deep breath, you turn in your seat to face him properly, going over the speech you’ve practised in your head dozens of times.
“Okay. I’m… I’m not sure we should do this anymore. I- I just… I feel guilty. For lying to Taggie, mainly. And because you’re technically still married, but mainly for lying to Tag. She’s the closest friend I have, and I’m sleeping with her father. It makes me a terrible person, Declan. I have to put a stop to it.”
He processes your words for a moment, looking at you intently.
“Do ya want to?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to? Put a stop to things? Or do you just feel like you should? For other people.”
You want to lie, tell him exactly what you had planned out, feed him what you know will work. But you can’t. You can lie to everyone… except Declan.
“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “But I should. We should.”
“Why now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”
“No, no. I just… Taggie said something really sweet the other day about how she was glad that she had me, because making friends here hasn’t been easy for her. And it should have made me happy, and instead, it broke my heart.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Declan cradles your face in his rough hands, resting his forehead against yours. It’s like the whole world melts away for a moment, leaving just the two of you in the tiny yellow car.
“I’m a horrible person,” you mumble. “And a horrible friend.”
“You’re speaking as if it’s just you. And it’s not, you know. There’s two of us in this affair - I’m just as guilty as you are.”
“Fine then. We’re both horrible people.”
He chuckles, breath tickling your face, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. His lips are brushing yours every time he speaks, meaning you can practically taste the cigarette smoke and spearmint on his tongue.
“I never claimed otherwise,” he retorts, still smiling.
“I don’t know what to do,” you admit as his thumbs sweep back and forth across your cheekbones. “It’s weighing down my conscience, and I don’t want to hurt Tag. But… I can’t give you up, Declan. I need you. I need you more than anything.”
“You make me crazy. God, I think about you night and day, sweetheart. My thoughts revolve around if I’ve seen you and when I’m going to see you next.”
“So what do we do? I can’t quit this. I can’t quit you, I can’t quit us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers… I wish I could make all your worries go away. But I can’t.”
“I don’t expect you to. I just… I thought that I could do it in one clean sweep. Get it out the way, you know? Call you, end things, be done. And then the minute I heard your voice over the phone… I knew I couldn’t do it. Because deep down, I didn’t want to.”
He leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, desperate to be close to you.
“Declan.”
“If I could fix it all for you, I would,” he murmurs against your skin. “You know I would.”
You pull back to put some distance in between you, watching him carefully for his reaction to what you say next.
“You should break things off.”
He flinches as if you’ve punched him in the stomach.
“What?”
“You should. I clearly can’t, so you have to be the one to do it. Do it, Declan. End things with me right here, right now. Please.”
Your tone is weak and unconvincing, as if you can’t even bring yourself to say the words with any conviction.
“I can’t,” he confesses, voice breaking on the last word. “I can’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
He takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling it slowly as if he’s buying himself some time. You wait patiently for him to continue, nerves frayed at the edges.
“Because I love you.”
Now it’s your turn to flinch, his admission smacking you across the face violently.
“You-”
“Yes. I love you, sweetheart. It’s taken me a while to figure all of this out, but I know it now. That’s why I’ve never been able to end this. Because it’s not just incredible sex… it’s something more. Something real.”
There are tears welling in your eyes as you look at him, watching the way he lays his heart on his sleeve in the moonlight just for you.
“I’m scared,” you confess. “I love you too and it scares me.”
You don’t miss the way his face lights up as you say it, but he’s trying to keep a careful lid on his emotions for now.
“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to ya. You know that.”
All you can do is nod in response, digesting everything that has happened in the last five minutes. You do know that. He’s proven time and time again that you’re not just some fleeting fling to him.
“Declan?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
Now he grins like an idiot, eyes alive with adrenaline and hope.
“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”
You tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning in to gently press your lips to his, wanting to seal the moment. He kisses you back sweetly at first, before taking control with more force, slipping his tongue into your mouth cheekily. You happily let him take the lead, sighing in contentment as you melt into him.
“C’mere.”
Climbing over onto his lap, you hinge your legs on either side of his in the drivers seat, straddling his hips. You try to straighten up but end up hitting your head on the roof of the car, which makes you both wheeze with laughter.
“This car is too fucking small,” you grumble, rubbing the spot that you smacked.
“Y’alright? Want me to kiss it better?”
You hate the way the teasing tone in his voice shoots right to your core, shaking your head in defiance.
“Fuck off,” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Patronising bastard.”
“I like it when you get your claws out,” he chuckles, tracing patterns on your thighs over your jeans. “S’hot.”
You kiss him again to shut him up, biting at his bottom lip in punishment. He groans all low and slow, which makes you grind your hips into his, despite the multiple layers of clothing separating you.
“Backseat,” he whispers, pushing you off of him gently. “More room.”
You splay yourself across the wide back seat, opening your legs so Declan can slot in between them.
“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he prompts as he shrugs off his own jacket and undoes his belt.
You can’t help but chuckle at his impatience, happily taking off your coat and jumper and unbuttoning your jeans. Your breath catches in your throat when you look back up at him - he’s wearing the Venturer t shirt that hugs his biceps just right, accentuating every delicious muscle he has to offer you.
“Wore it for you,” he mutters against your lips. “Know you like me in a t shirt.”
You roll your eyes but kiss him with determination anyway, all teeth and tongue and clashing bodies. You’re clawing at his clothed shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist to buck your hips into his.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Lying awake at night thinking about your thighs, your tits, your cunt.”
All you can do is sigh, fingers digging into his biceps in desperation.
“Wish I could take my time with you like you deserve. These quick fucks just aren’t the same.”
He sounds almost upset about it, voice staying deep and low.
“Remember that time I stayed the night? And you couldn’t walk in the morning?”
You laugh breathily, thinking back fondly to that night a few months ago. You’d both orchestrated it so carefully, crafting cautious lies and fabricated stories to snatch a good sixteen hours of time together.
“Need that again soon. Might have to start sneaking ya into my house in the dark, make you climb the gutters like we’re in a film. Although, it is a bit hard to keep you quiet.”
You try valiantly to ignore the heat that flushes across your chest as he teases you, knowing that he’s right.
“Declan?”
“Yeah, baby?”
You grab his hand and shove it down your underwear, jeans trapped around your thighs. There’s very minimal room in this tiny car, but you’re both determined to make it work. He groans when he feels how wet you are, swiping through your core.
“Fuck me. Have you been like this the entire time?”
“Since this afternoon,” you whimper, trying to grind down onto his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about when you ate me out on my kitchen worktop last week. My legs were shaking for two days afterwards.”
“Fuck,” he breathes, slipping a finger into you as he drops his head onto your shoulder. “I got myself off thinking about that yesterday. I swear if I concentrate, I can still taste you on my tongue.”
All you can do is whimper, desperate to have him in any way you can. The fact that you have the same effect on him that he does on you makes your head spin, dizzy with want.
“Don’t make me wait,” you beg, cradling his face so he has to look you in the eye. “Fuck me, please. Please, Declan.”
“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll give ya anything you want. Anything.”
He shuffles around so he’s sat back on his knees, pushing his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself. You spread your legs as wide as you can, trying to give him as much room as possible. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position in this car with him - and it won’t be the last.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, licking across your teeth with his tongue. “Most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”
He slides into you with ease, both of you gasping at the familiar sensation. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, pads of his fingertips biting into your flesh.
Declan doesn’t waste any time, setting a relentless pace that has you bouncing across the seat. The car is shaking like crazy, all the windows fogged up - anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside.
The man above you can read you like a book and play you like a fiddle. He knows the exact angles of his hips that’ll have you keening, the certain spots to focus on that’ll have you seeing stars. He knows you better than anyone, in more ways than one.
“That’s it,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Atta girl. Taking it like you were made for me.”
“Maybe I was,” you breathe, tipping your head back to give him access to your neck. “Just for you.”
He groans all melted and golden like molten honey, the vibrato of it rumbling through your bones. You’re holding onto him for dear life, as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this reality. When his thumb finds your clit to rub firm, slow circles, you’re convinced you’re floating on another plane of existence.
The only word you can seem to formulate is Declan, which only pushes him closer to the finish line. He’s determined to get you there first, angling his hips upward to hit that one spot that has you gasping. When he moves one hand to your throat and gently squeezes, you fall apart instantly, taking him with you.
“I love you,” he breathes as he comes, forehead resting on yours. “My girl.”
You’re shuddering and shaking as you lie underneath him, panting like you’ve just ran ten miles. Declan collapses on top of you, laying his head on your chest comfortably. Your fingers rake through his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp like you’ve done so many times before.
You both allow yourselves to close your eyes for a minute, recovering and attempting to catch your breath. You’re convinced, for a moment, that you’ll never feel more peaceful than you do right now. You breathe each other in, satiated and content.
You finally open your eyes, expecting to see nothing but fogged windows and starlit darkness. Instead, you see a man bending down, looking straight at you. Arguably the worst possible person that could see the two of you in the position you’re in.
Rupert Campbell Black.
He’s grinning like an idiot, shaking his head in disbelief.
You’re about to warn the man in your arms when Rupert opens the car door, slipping himself into the drivers seat and spinning so he’s facing you. Declan has jumped out of his skin, jolting upwards to cover you as best he can.
Rupert smirks all dirty and knowing, eyes dancing over your half naked forms.
“Well, well, well. Secrets out, lovers.”
@graceflorence @dionysus-drabbles
as aaaaaaaalways… reblogs are golden!! they’re the currency of tumblr, my loves. you reblog, and your favourite writers will write you more fics. simple as that. mwah. <3
#declan o’hara#declan o’hara x reader#declan o’hara smut#declan o’hara x reader smut#declan o’hara imagine#rivals smut#rivals x reader#rivals x reader smut#declan o’hara x you#declan o’hara x female reader#rivals fanfiction#rivals fic#rivals imagine#rivals 2024#aidan turner#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell black imagine#rivals disney+#rivals
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PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!
I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀
Everything Again
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader
Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic
Words: 8K+
Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?
Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.
A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!
When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper.
She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration. But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water.
Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue.
“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go.
It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way.
“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.
“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”
“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back.
“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.
“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being.
“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you.
Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.
“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.”
There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her.
“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”
“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned.
You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.
—---------------------------------
That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.
The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her.
After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers.
It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.
It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.
She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully.
The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web.
“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time.
Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you.
“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you.
And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.
—------------------------------------------------
In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it.
She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near.
But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen.
Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again.
So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time.
Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not?
As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be.
With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down.
The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out.
There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything.
Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day.
You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces.
The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.
She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons.
Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night.
Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes.
Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.
You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.
“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.
“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more.
“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention.
“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”
Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you.
“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more.
“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”
Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now.
“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up.
You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”
She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing.
“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you.
You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked.
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”
If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes. For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her.
Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was.
So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space.
“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all.
“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.
“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours.
“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt.
“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you.
“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome.
“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.
“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”
You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable.
“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist.
“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?”
“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“
“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place.
“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises.
“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again.
Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked.
The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way.
“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.
As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.
You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.”
You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor.
Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.
“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you.
“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it.
But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.”
You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs.
“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be.
With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.
You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to.
When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.
“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”
Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response.
“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling.
Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.
“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”
Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.
Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more.
She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you.
The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name.
“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to.
As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you.
Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.
When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.
“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”
All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words.
“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster.
“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her.
The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often.
When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet.
“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was.
“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you.
“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked.
Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches.
“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.”
The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder.
“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin.
“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”
Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you.
As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever.
For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.
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nasty habits | park jisung
pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader
genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end
summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?
wc: 20k+
warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.
your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.
but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.
and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.
after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.
it started on a whim, born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and suddenly, you were kind of a big deal on the platform.
granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure, the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college, entirely out of pocket.
you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.
“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.
“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”
“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink
“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.
“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.
“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.
“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”
“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.
you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.
“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”
“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.
“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”
you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.
“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”
“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.
“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.
you raised a brow. “unless what?”
“haechan.”
you frowned. “what about him?”
“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.
“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.
“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”
“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.
“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.
karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”
you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”
“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.
“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.
“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”
giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.
“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.
karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”
before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.
“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.
giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”
“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.
“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.
once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.
“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.
giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”
“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.
karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.
“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”
giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”
haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.
“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.
“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.
“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.
“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”
haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.
you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”
“eh… like a seven. why?”
“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”
his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”
you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”
giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”
haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”
you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.
“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.
haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”
giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”
haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”
“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.
“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”
haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”
groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.
“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.
“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.
“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”
“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”
“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.
“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.
“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”
“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.
“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”
“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”
“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”
“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.
he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”
“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”
“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.
“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.
“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.
“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”
“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”
“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.
“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.
“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”
“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”
haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”
“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.
“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”
giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”
“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”
“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”
“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”
“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”
you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”
haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.
“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”
“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”
karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”
giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”
you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.
the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.
“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”
“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”
“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”
“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”
he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.
“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”
his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.
“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.
karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”
“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”
“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”
“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”
you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”
“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.
“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”
“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.
“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”
“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”
karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”
“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”
karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”
“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”
karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”
“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”
“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”
“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”
haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”
“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”
“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.
“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”
“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”
“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.
“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.
“okay, fine. let’s go home.”
“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.
“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.
you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.
“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.
but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.
suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.
“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.
“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.
“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”
you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.
karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”
giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”
when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”
“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.
“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”
“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.
giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”
you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”
“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”
“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.
karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”
“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.���
“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”
“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”
giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”
“boo!”
haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.
“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.
“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.
you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.
“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.
“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”
giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”
“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”
“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.
“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”
your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.
you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:
you’d already interacted with him before.
not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.
you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.
“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.
you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”
“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.
jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.
you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”
“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.
“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”
“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”
“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.
“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.
“can i come?” haechan asked.
you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.
your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.
the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.
the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.
at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.
“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.
you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.
“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”
you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.
“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”
the messages came in rapid-fire:
“omg collette’s back!”
“you look stunning as always.”
“been waiting for this for weeks!”
you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”
the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.
“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”
you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”
the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.
you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”
a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”
you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.
“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.
he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.
“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.
almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.
the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.
“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.
“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”
“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”
your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.
you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.
as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”
his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.
he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.
“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered
in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.
“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.
it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.
“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.
this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.
he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.
of course, none of that happened.
you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.
you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.
after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.
on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.
on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.
you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.
you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.
“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”
his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.
“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”
he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.
you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.
you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.
“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.
you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.
you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.
“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.
behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.
jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.
normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.
but you weren’t like them.
he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.
since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.
it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.
and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.
he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.
his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.
“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.
jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.
“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.
jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.
she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.
when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.
stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.
but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.
his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.
when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.
how am i supposed to survive this?
jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.
she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.
and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.
and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.
he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.
so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.
not that jisung cared, of course.
but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.
today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.
he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.
but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.
you were there.
your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.
he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.
his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?
you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.
“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”
you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.
“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”
he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.
“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”
“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”
jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.
“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”
you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.
“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”
you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.
he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.
but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.
he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.
but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.
you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.
“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.
“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”
you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”
jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.
“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”
you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.
he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.
“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”
jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.
“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”
his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.
“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”
he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.
as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.
he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.
you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.
when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.
he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.
you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.
and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.
by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.
you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.
jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.
why does that look so familiar?
he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.
and then it hit him.
his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.
holy shit.
jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.
he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.
“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.
he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.
he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.
sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.
you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.
his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.
but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.
you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.
the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.
you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.
you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.
“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.
he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.
you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.
his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.
“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.
his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.
“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.
you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.
“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”
he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.
“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.
jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.
“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”
he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.
as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.
when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?
jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.
since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.
“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.
“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.
“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”
“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that
but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.
as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.
you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.
jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.
focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.
“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.
you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”
“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”
you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”
“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.
he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.
“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.
“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.
“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”
“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.
you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”
“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.
but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”
jisung froze. fuck.
his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?
“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”
he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.
“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.
jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.
he needed to take care of this. now.
standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.
he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.
“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”
“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”
he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.
“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”
your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.
jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?
“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”
before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”
his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.
sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.
“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.
sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.
jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.
“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”
you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.
“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”
jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”
your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”
but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”
jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”
sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”
“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”
you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.
“listen here, you little shi—”
“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”
sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”
jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.
as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.
“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”
jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”
“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.
jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”
you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.
“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.
you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”
“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”
he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.
you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.
but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.
“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.
“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”
“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.
you laughed. “are you serious right now?”
“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”
he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.
what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.
“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.
jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”
“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.
he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”
“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”
“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”
“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”
his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.
“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.
he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.
he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.
you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”
jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.
“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”
his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”
“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. ��it’s haechan’s. i swear.”
you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”
jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.
“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.
“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.
jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.
you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”
he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.
“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”
he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.
“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”
jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.
“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.
jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.
“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.
when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.
and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.
“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.
jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.
“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”
jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”
“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”
“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”
“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.
“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”
jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.
“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”
jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?
“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”
“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”
jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”
“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.
jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”
“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”
your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”
jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.
“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”
you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.
his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.
“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.
“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”
“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”
jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.
“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.
“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.
“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.
“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.
you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”
“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”
“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.
“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.
“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”
“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.
jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.
“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.
“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.
you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”
“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.
“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.
before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.
“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.
jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.
“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”
“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”
jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.
“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.
you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.
that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.
the sound of retching woke him up.
he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.
“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”
“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.
“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”
jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.
“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”
jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.
his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.
before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.
“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”
jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”
“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”
his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.
“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.
“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.
his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?
he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.
“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.
“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”
with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.
he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.
when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.
the door swung open after his third knock.
there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.
"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.
but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.
“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.
“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.
“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.
jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.
"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."
"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.
“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.
"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"
your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.
"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.
jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.
"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.
"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.
"would you like to guest on my channel?"
jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”
he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."
you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."
jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?
“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.
jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?
but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.
with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."
“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.
but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.
you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.
“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.
he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”
you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”
your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.
your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”
he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.
you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.
you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.
“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.
“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.
“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”
his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.
“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.
“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.
his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.
“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”
the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.
“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”
the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.
before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.
your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.
“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.
“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”
“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.
he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.
“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.
jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.
you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.
“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.
“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.
“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.
jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.
you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.
“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”
the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.
“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.
“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”
the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.
jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.
“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.
his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.
you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.
“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”
his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.
you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.
“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.
“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”
your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.
“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.
his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.
“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.
your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.
you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.
“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.
“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”
you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”
he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.
“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.
“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.
“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.
his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.
just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.
a condom.
jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.
“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.
goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.
“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.
“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.
jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.
“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.
“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.
the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.
it fit perfectly.
“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.
jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.
“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.
jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.
you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.
"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.
he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.
“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.
“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.
“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”
you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.
"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."
jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.
when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.
"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.
you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”
you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.
“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”
his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.
"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.
jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.
you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.
“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.
you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.
“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.
jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.
“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”
the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.
his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.
“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.
jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”
you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”
he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”
the next day...
“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.
“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”
jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.
“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.
a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.
earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.
jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.
“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.
he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.
the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.
and he was succeeding.
your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.
he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.
you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”
his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.
jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.
a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3
#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct smut#nct dream fic#nct dream smut#nct#park jisung#jisung x reader#nct jisung#jisung smut#jisung x you#nct fic#nct moodboard#jisung imagines#nct dream x you#nct dream
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𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Logan Howlett x reader
↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | with no threshold for pain, logan finds that losing control with you is easier, triggering a thirst that is insatiable.
author's note | um.......yeah idk. i have no excuse and while i still write predominately for pedge boys i had to. i couldn't help it. am i sorry? no. is this insane? a little. special thanks to @ovaryacted, @pr0ximamidnight & @wannab-urs for being the best and reading this over
content warning | 18+ smut, written with x-men (2000)!logan in mind, mutant!reader, established relationship, hand kink (and sensitivity), pain kink, blood kink, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), exchange of bodily fluids (yes its bl*od), mentions of exhibitionism, also kinda body worship, this turned out way kinkier than it was supposed to be
word count —2.2k
Logan was never soft, but he’s learned to smooth out his sharp edges for you.
And while he was never shy, he wasn’t always open about his claws slipping out near climax when things got a little too out of control or his mind would slip, bordering into that animalistic ferocity he sometimes drifted into when he was more desperate.
Just a touch, a lick, a press of his skin against yours and he’d haul you onto whatever surface was close by and rail you into a near amnesic state of consciousness. It made you feel like you were floating, allowing his superhuman strength to lift you up and off to bed, spending most of those nights in his room rather than your own.
You weren’t a thing, it had never been established. But, Logan has grown comfortable, familiar, and he was appreciative of it, even if he didn’t show it. It came with the kisses when you slipped into his room after heavy training evenings or a night where he just needed some entertainment, something to keep him occupied.
He liked your company even if it was never spoken aloud.
The signs came when you would scoot away on the couch to give him space when you both would drift into meaningless conversation that would in turn mold into you, in his lap after a soft tug and a complacent smirk on his face.
You’ve grown fond of him, his wittiness and unrestrained personality that was often subdued under a dark, brooding facade, his body too—strong, chiseled arms and a well-defined chest. He was big, everywhere. All-consuming and just bordering on the edge of too much. But, it was his hands that really pulled you in.
Thumbs pressing beyond swollen lips as you run the surface of your tongue against his skin, an aid to muffle the whimpers that slip beyond your lips when you’re trying to be quiet—when Logan needs you quiet, teetering on a dangerous line of exhibitionism if you keep it up.
Or the length of his hands squeezing against your hips, pulling you back to meet his thighs as his cock spears you open, his palm often finding on your lower back as he presses you further into the mattress, ass angled up as best you could manage when he was rutting himself into you like he was in heat—gruff, wet pants of a gradually building high against your skin that drove you wild.
His claws have slipped out a few times—your headboard remained the proof as he’d rid himself of his own long ago, deep but thick holes in the wood that you’re almost positive continued into the drywall. He’s ruined a pillow or two, but there was a surge of excitement that came along with it.
The sound of them as they slip beyond his skin, not even the slightest grimace on his face as it happens, ultimately taken by his pleasure in overdrive, the action always registers half a second too late.
Thankfully, you’ve come to sense it well.
You always know just where to touch—what drives him wild and extracts the feral nature in him and what softens his steely regard. Touches along his jaw pull him in, lips pressing against the spot on you mirroring your fingers on him.
Sometimes it’s nails digging into his indestructible skin, irritated and swollen marks that would fade as quickly as they appeared, no use in drawing blood as it never spilled.
But, the soft and intriguing sounds that slip as you run your fingers along his forearm are something you take note of over time—occasionally just a tickle that he shrugs away with a soft chuckle, slipping his hand between your bodies to play with your clit, leaving him just out of reach as he circles that sensitive bundle of nerves, urging your eyes to stay on him, with him.
He’s always good at talking you through, gentle words of encouragement married with tight, guttural groans as his cock sinks into you, a hand at your thigh to keep you spread open, his gaze always wandering down to marvel at the sight of you and him and you take him so well—he’s told you a million times over by now.
Occasionally his hands will make a slow crawl to your shoulders or your neck, curling around the muscle and cradling you, like an anchor for himself. Your own fingers spread over his grip, right along the ridge of his knuckles.
At first he tensed, his hands slipping away in a hurry to grip another part of your body, lower, deeper—disconnecting helped and even if he had learned to control the urge to a degree, there was always a chance.
Logan wasn’t oblivious to your own regenerative healing—not entirely indestructible, although the lack of pain receptors made you a viable asset for a plethora of things but being on the other end of a spar with him was still nothing to take lightly, a man of challenge himself, you weren’t leaving that fight without a couple knicks and cuts even though as soon as they appeared, they were then non-existent.
Physically, you were a challenge, nothing for people to underestimate. The perfect torture device, the ideal punching bag. You've learned to subdue the emotion and the mental toll it took, but with Logan, there was an openness to be vulnerable, knowing that you needed the pain just as much as it often displeased you.
Where Logan fears worry and shame, you find the care and curiosity in soothing the spots where his claws tear through, a gentle squeeze of your fingers in the spaces between his knuckles, a kiss to each one and down his wrist, a show of affection while your eyes never leave his own.
Sometimes you did it absently, on the couch while you both drifted to sleep after a long day or during a movie that you’ve thrown on to distract Logan from his own mind—some days he just needed you around in whatever form you had to offer.
There wasn’t a single part of him you didn’t admire and one night, like tonight, things reach culmination and Logan slips.
—
His mouth waters at the sight of you on your back, pussy on full display and your thighs spread wide under his grip as his cock sinks deep and pulls out, right to the tip before he’s drilling himself back inside of you, fingers twisting into the sheets so hard they often rip, eyes drifting close as your head keens back in overwhelming pleasure.
“Bub, eyes on me,” Logan coaxes, his fingers curling around the top of your thighs as they squeeze, keeping you apart and open, pliant under his touch, “keep ‘em on me.”
He hips still, waiting, watching—you peek your eyes open with a shy smile that is met with a smirk, his eyes brimming with warmth, nodding as you listen.
“Right there, that’s good.”
You roll your eyes fondly, a flutter of your lashes as he pushes inside of you unexpectedly, a sharp and wild snap of his hips that pulls a surprised gasp from your chest, squeezing instinctively around him in response—again and again as your thighs press further and further in until he’s nearly at your chest, his knuckles grazing the underside of your breasts and you beg, tongue wetting your bottom lip as you speak.
“Don’t—please don’t hold back,” you plead—to some degree, he always did, shared mutant powers aside there was always a deep need in Logan’s psyche to protect and inadvertently to shield, “all of it—want all of you.”
As to seal the words with truth, your fingers slide over his hands gripped tightly at your thighs, keeping them still as your feet curl around the back of his thighs and pull him in. Deeper, tighter. Logan chuckles at the motion, almost taunting. There was a sensitivity to the spot where his claws pushed through, a warning of what was to come and like all the other softer, more receptive parts of him, the touch surges a sense of hot, angry need through his entire body.
Easy, his eyes read.
“I like it,” you admit with a gentle swirl of your hips to bring him back, followed by the slow angle and snap in response, “—lose control a little, Logan. Let it out.”
“That part of me—“ Logan begs, but there’s a quiet noise of disapproval from you, your eyes softer as you admire him.
“Is part of you,” you remind him, “and I—“ like an absolute menace, he penetrates hard, rubbing the sensitive swell of muscle inside of you that makes you dizzy, “fuck—I don’t need you to hide yourself.”
Logan goes quiet, contemplating but observant as his hands squeeze against the sound of surprise you make as he grazes your g-spot, a fist pressing against his groin that flattens out into your palm, feeling the flex of his muscles as he works himself inside of you.
“I wanna feel it, I need it to hurt,” You beg, his brows drawing in—pensive for a half-second before you can see the flip of a switch in his head, “you can lose control with me, Logan.”
He practically vibrates as the growl emits from his chest, watching his hands squeeze impossibly tighter before his claws are our, unsheathed before you and you can’t help but smile, a millimeter from splicing through skin that could never keep the memory of it and you run your finger along the base, the slight flicker of discomfort in his face that fades as you began to move against him again.
There was something about pain, that stinging feeling of a wound as the adamantium sliced through you, along the swell of your ribs and breasts, a trickle of blood falling from the cut before it disappeared—and instinctively, Logan’s hand settle away as he leans in and swipes the blood away with his tongue, eyes locked on your own and you quiver, mouth opening in a silent gasp.
He moans at the taste, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the action and to make matters worse, he speaks, blood on his tongue and teeth, “M’pretty sure she tastes even sweeter.”
His eyes flick toward your cunt, a whimper in protest at the loss of his cock as he slips out of you and sinks to his stomach in one fluid motion, his slick covered cock ruining your sheets as he drives his tongue inside of you, nose pressed against your clit as he satisfies the loss of him with more, claws dragging dangerously close to your hips, the tips of his claws pressing into the skin.
His tongue drags up to you clit, lapping up the mix of sweet slick and his own, your hands pressing over top of his to force the sharp edge deeper, slicing through your skin until you feel yourself on the verge of passing out, a small pool of blood gathering at your pelvis.
Your own fingers drag through the thick crimson, spreading it over his waiting mouth as he grins, a perfect picture of greed and pleasure as he dives back into your cunt, a hurried and overwhelming pace against your clit driving you over the edge within seconds, your orgasm crashing toward you far faster than you’re expecting as you cry out, hips lifting from the bed but not without a fight, Logan’s grip pressing you down into mattress to clean you up.
All of you.
He rises with a grin, brutish but charming as he kisses you, tasting yourself on him as your own blood smears your lips, giggling softly into his mouth.
“Inside,” Logan already knows, fist curling around his cock as he slips back inside of you, “—oh fuck, Lo—“
“Greedy girl,” He admonishes amorously and returns his hurried pace, claws sinking into your pillows and mattress, a sorry that would come later for the action but you needed him now, “gonna let me fill you full, huh?”
You nod jerkily, forehead pressed tight against his own as he huffs into your open mouth, a mingling of sacred noises between each other as his hips falter, a broken gasp falling from his lips as he snaps his hips once before he’s buried to the hilt, coming deep inside you cunt.
His claws retract synonymous with his climax as he settles against his now bare fists before he’s falling onto his back with a huff, looking like a fucked-out mess with his hair even more askew than it always it, blood drying at the corner of his mouth as you roll onto your stomach and grab for his hand, pressing a kiss to each knuckle with a soft smile, figuring you must be quiet the sight yourself.
“You have to stop worrying, Logan,” you remind him gently, dropping his hand to move closer, his arm extending and pressing against your back as you curl into him, your fingers tracing along his jaw as you speak to him, “that you’re going to scare me away.”
“You still have time to run,” He jokes lightly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to his tone and you shake your head with a quickly developing smirk.
“Only if you’re chasing after me,” You challenge, leaning forward to nip at his jaw, surprised when he returns the action as he buries his pith against your throat, rolling you onto your back with a laugh that bursts from your chest.
“That can be arranged, bub,” He promises, nosing himself into the sensitive spot behind your ear, “I’d sniff you out in seconds, anyways.”
-
divider creds: @saradika-graphics
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fluff#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#my writing
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Burning Desire
Aemond x Older!sister Reader
Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Sibling incest
A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)
You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now.
When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side.
“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.
Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.
“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.
Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.
“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.
Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat.
“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”
His words move you to tears.
“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.
You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.
Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.
You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.
“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.
He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.
Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.
“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”
There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.
The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.
Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.
“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.
“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.
“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.
But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go.
“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.
“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.
His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.
“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.
“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw.
“You know what,” you whine.
He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still.
“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.
This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.
Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes.
He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.
“You were supposed to be mine,” he says in the gentlest tone.
“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.
But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out.
“Look at me.”
It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t.
A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.
“Am I so hard to love?”
His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.
You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.
The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.
“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.
“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.
It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face.
The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.
Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.
A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.
It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.
“You’re doing so good,” he praises.
His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.
“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”
“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”
You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.
“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.
“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.
A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.
“Take it slow,” he warns.
You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.
You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size.
“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.
He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms.
Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.
“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.
You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.
He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.
“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.
His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips.
You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.
You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to.
Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak.
He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long.
It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs.
“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”
You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.
“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.
You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter.
His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.
The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.
“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.
“I know,” you reply weakly.
You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.
“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”
You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.
“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”
“Aemond,” you sigh.
“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”
“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”
“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”
“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”
Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.
“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you.
“What?” You gasp.
“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”
“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.
“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”
“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.
“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”
“You don’t know that-”
“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”
You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down.
You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.
You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.
“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.
“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”
#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond#prince aemond#aemond x reader#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen imagine#x reader#x fem!reader#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon#house targaryen#fire and blood#hotd#house of the dragon x reader#hotd s2 spoilers#house of the dragon fanfic#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond one eye smut#aemond x you#aemond needs a hug#targcest
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tenderly, tragically
Description: Silly, lifelong best-friendship leads to a lot of meaningless teasing. Though, sometimes teasing comes from a place of truth. It’s just that sometimes, those getting teased are the last to know why.
Pairing: Best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, some angst, smut 18+ (p in v, praise kink, whiny james, size kink, first time for both), drinking, its really idiots to lovers
Word Count: 7.8k (just fluff): 9.4k (smut)
A/N: smut is at the end, and there’s a warning before it starts since it’s kind of like an alternate ending/extra bit. if you JUST want fluff, it ends at a good point for that before the smut starts :) ALSO: as with all of my marauders fics, characters are aged up (19-20)
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“Jamie,” I squeal a laugh, chasing after him.
He laughs, continuing to out-run me. The bastard.
“Not my fault you’re slow,” he calls back. “Catch up, love, or you’ll get caught.”
I run harder, jumping on his back when I get close enough. We both knew he’d slowed down to let me get closer, but neither of us bothered to mention it. He laughed, holding onto my legs as they wrapped around his waist, slowing until he was walking.
“You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”
I snort a laugh. “Please. There wasn’t even anybody there.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, finally dropping me from his back, and instead slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“They could have, though.”
“But they didn’t,” I say pointedly. “Besides, Remus, Peter, and Sirius are still actually in the Slytherin dorms. Lousy look-outs we are because of you.”
He chuckles, walking us towards the stairs.
“They’ll be fine,” he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Besides, I doubt even most of the Slytherins would object to a little prank on Snivellus.”
I hum, nodding a little. “I guess. Still. You’re a bad friend.”
“You ran too,” he accused, his brow furrowing. “Don’t go and pin all this on me.”
“You told me to run!”
“You didn’t have to listen!”
I scoff, shaking my head. He gives me an irritated look, but pulls me a little closer under his arm. We get into the common room, and without even asking, he starts ushering me to their dorm room.
“Why?” I ask, knowing he knows what I’m asking.
“Sue me for wanting to spend some time with my life-long friend,” he says, quirking a brow.
I push him away from me, but he doesn’t really let me get far. He opens his door, pushing me in first. I immediately flop onto his bed face-first.
“Not complaining now, are you?” he asks, laying next to me.
“Not my fault your bed is so comfy,” I say, my voice muffled by the mattress.
I feel the mattress dip, and look up to see him also turned on his stomach, right next to me.
“If you really wanted to get me alone this bad you could’ve asked,” I say with a wink.
He rolls his eyes, but a smile gives him away.
“Please. I know you’re secretly hoping for it, but we both know that’s never going to happen.”
“Me?” I laugh. “As if. What would I do with a quidditch player?”
He scoffs, an offended look on his face.
“I’ll have you know that I am very desirable, and half of that has to do with the fact I’m the seeker, thank you.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh huh. And what’s the other half?”
“You seen this face?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his lips.
“Unfortunately I have.”
“You’re mean,” he says, a laugh breaking up his attempt to be offended.
He pushes me a bit, but I hardly budge. I laugh at his attempt, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. He perks up, trying harder to fully push me off the bed, now.
“Hey!” I say in protest, fighting back against him.
He laughs, both of us practically fighting as he keeps trying to push me off. I see an opportunity a moment later and take it: I grab onto one of his arms with both of mine.
“Ha!” I say loudly. “Can’t push me off now unless you also fall off.”
He pauses, then an evil smirk comes onto his face. My face drops as I realize what he’s about to do. He scoots over, dropping both of us onto the ground. I squeal as we fall, and I end up taking the brunt of the fall as he lands on top of me.
“You should never threaten me with a good time. You know I can’t resist,” he says, not bothering to alleviate the pressure of his body pinning me down.
I groan. “You suck. I didn’t think you’d actually push both of us off just to get me.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” he replies with a quirked brow.
“Please. I know you better than anyone and you know it.”
He opens his mouth to snark back at me, but the door opens before he gets a chance.
“You two are the worst,” Sirius says, clearly out of breath. Then, he scoffs as more footsteps follow behind him. “And look at this! They ran off on us to… Canoodle on the floor.”
I furrow my brow, pulling a face as I try to see him around James.
“Canoodle?” I repeat in disgust.
James finally starts getting off of me, kneeling on the ground next to me as I start pulling myself up. Remus and Peter give us a look.
“We’re not… canoodling, and you can blame Prongs for us ditching. He’s the one who took off running and told me I had to, too.”
Remus quirks a brow at that as Sirius goes to sit on his bed.
“You didn’t have to listen to him,” Peter pipes up.
“That’s what I told her,” James says, giving me a self-satisfied look.
I make a sour face at him, pushing his arm a little. He pushes me back, and I straighten up. Though, Remus must notice that look on me.
“Don’t you two start up again,” he says, pointedly looking between us. “If I have to watch you two flirt any more I might throw up.”
“We’re not flirting,” James grumbles. “She’s just fun to mess with.”
“Mm. And you’re just easy to win a fight against,” I add.
He looks at me quickly. “You didn’t win the last one.”
“Because you pushed us both off the bed!” I exclaim.
“Oh, shut it, you two,” Sirius says, his arm draped over his face. “We’ve been back for three days and you’re already acting up.”
I snort a laugh at Sirius’s annoyance, climbing back onto James’s bed. I sigh with my face in the pillows, feeling him climb over me to get to the other side a second later.
“You got us in trouble,” he whispers.
“Your fault, not mine,” I reply.
“You’re the one who insulted my perfect face.”
“You’re the one who pushed me first,” I argue back.
“Oi!” Sirius calls out again, leaving us both laughing.
Our first few weeks of school go off without a hitch. The boys continue pulling their little pranks, occasionally dragging me along with them. I settle into my space this year, glad to still have Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas as my roommates. We always tended to get along quite well.
I start reading a new book one night, absolutely enraptured with the story, probably even more so considering it’s helping me to avoid the homework that I really should be doing. I get through the first couple chapters before I notice Lily staring at me.
“What is it, Lils?”
“Can I tell you something?” Lily asks suddenly.
She looks around the room, seemingly to make sure the other girls are really gone for whatever she’s about to say.
I look at her over my book. “Sure.”
“Promise not to tell anyone?”
I nod. “Promise.”
She sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I think I have a thing for someone… Well, for James.”
My eyes widen. “Really? You wanted nothing to do with him a little while ago.”
“I know. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bored or something, but I’ve been thinking about telling him.”
I nod. “Yeah. You should.”
“Really?” she asks, surprised.
“Why not?”
She smiles to herself. “Yeah. Why not? Do you think he’ll say it back?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? He did have a crush on you before.”
She hums to herself. I laugh a little, shaking my head.
“I think I’ll do it tomorrow. Better to do it sooner than later, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug noncommittally. I really just wanted to get back to my book.
“You don’t even care,” she groans after a moment.
“This is a really good book, Lils,” I laugh.
“Fine. I’ll stop bothering you.”
“Thanks,” I smirk to myself.
She scoffs again, though I know she isn’t really offended. I wish her good luck as we head off to our classes that day, knowing she was planning on telling James sometime in the morning.
I end up finding him later, though I try not to press for answers the second I do. We sit on the grass in the late afternoon, watching some first years play a little quidditch match for fun. It’s uncharacteristically warm outside, and the sun shines down on us. After half an hour of watching the kids play, I glance at James.
“I wanna show you something,” I say suddenly, standing.
James looks up at me in confusion. “I’d prefer not to move.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It’s a nice day. Sunny and no clouds. Please, just follow me?” I ask, almost whining. “Promise you’ll like it.”
He leans back on his hands. “How do you know?”
“Because I found a secret place in the woods, and you’ll be the first person besides me to see it,” I offer.
He quirks a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now get up.”
He grumbles to himself as he gets up, following me as we walk towards the woods. I start leading him through the trees towards the destination I had in mind.
“What were you even doing in here? It’s dangerous,” he says quietly.
“I was fine. Just had a long day and wanted to explore. It was in the daytime anyway,” I say matter-of-factly.
He hums to himself, clearly dissatisfied that I went out here by myself. But as I finally lead him to our destination, his annoyance wears off.
“Whoa,” he says, his eyes a little wide.
I smile. “See? Told you it would be worth your while.”
He looks on at the small clearing. There’s a little pond with clear water, the space in the trees allowing some sunlight to reflect on the water. It looks peaceful at least, and nearly-heavenly at best. I look at him expectantly.
“How’d you find this?” he asks, squatting by the water. He dips his hand it. “Whoa. It’s warm.”
I nod, still standing. “I found it when I was exploring, like I said. A few weeks ago. I charmed the water to stay warm, so I’ve been out here two or three times to swim. Thought I’d show you before it gets too cold.”
He smiles, standing up. “You want to go swimming? You didn’t bring any—”
His eyes widen as he finally looks at me. At this point, I’ve already started taking off my robes and my shirt.
“What?” I ask, brows furrowed. “You act like you’ve never been around me getting dressed. We’ve been friends since we were like six years old. Now, hurry up. Faster you get undressed, the faster we get to swim.”
He rolls his eyes at me, begrudgingly taking off his clothes, even though part of him still looks excited that I’d found such a nice little place.
I start wading in once I’m down to my underwear, the water feeling nice and warm in contrast to the slightly-cool air. I hear him come in after me in a moment, and turn to watch him.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Can’t believe you were hiding this from me,” he says, hiding a smirk.
“Oh, please,” I reply, floating on my back in the water. “You’re lucky I showed you at all. Nobody else knows about this. You should feel honored.”
I hear him hum and splash around a little, though my eyes are closed. I bask in the warmth of the sunlight on my face.
“Did Lils talk to you today?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah.”
I upright myself, looking at him as he aimlessly walks around in the water.
“And?”
He glances at me, giving a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I press, furrowing my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you guys talk about?”
“I have a feeling you already know,” he snorts a laugh.
I roll my eyes, wading closer to him. “So she told you?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what happened? What did you say?”
He sighs dramatically. “Does it matter?”
I splash him a little. “I’m gonna hear about it no matter what. She’s my roommate. Just wanted to know from you before I see Lily later.”
“Told her I wasn’t interested,” he says quietly, splashing me back a little.
I pause. “Why? You always had a massive crush on her.”
“Not in, like, a year,” he says.
“So you just rejected her?”
“I didn’t reject her,” he furrows his brows, looking away from me. “She told me she liked me, and I just told her I wasn’t into her like that. She didn’t ask me a question, so it wasn’t a rejection. Just being honest.”
I groan. “Jamie, she’s going to kill me. I’m the one who encouraged her to tell you.”
His eyes widened. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I thought you liked her!”
He pauses for a moment, then splashes me again, this time fully soaking me. I scoff a laugh, in shock as the water hits me. I glare at him, then splash him back just as hard. He starts going on the attack, practically throwing the water at me repeatedly.
“You absolute tosser,” I say, continuing to splash back, though I can’t help but laugh.
I start backing up as we both continue, now laughing and barely able to see with how rapid-fire we’re going. Eventually, I turn and start running for the shore as much as I can while being chest-deep in water. I squeal as I hear him closing in on me.
“No, no, no,” I laugh, getting closer and closer to safety.
“Should’ve thought about trying to run a little harder, love,” James says back, still giggling to himself.
He catches up to me when the water is finally below my hips, and grabs around the waist, pulling both of us backwards. The water goes over our heads for a moment, and I gasp out a laugh as we emerge again. He sits us up in the pond.
I turn in his arms, smacking him lightly on the chest. “You’re awful!”
“You love me,” he smiles brightly, still sitting on the ground in the shallow water. He pulls me in a little closer. “You’re just mad that I won.”
“Still can’t believe you said you didn’t like her,” I say, brushing some of his wet curls away from his eyes.
“Not gonna lie to the girl,” he shrugs, swatting away my hand.
“Still. I thought for sure you’d be excited.”
“Hm. I don’t know. Maybe a couple years ago, but not anymore.”
“At this point I’m convinced you’re driving girls away on purpose. When was the last time you dated someone?” I laugh.
He looks at me, mockingly offended. “Excuse me?”
“What?” I exclaim, still laughing. “Last girl I remember seeing you with was some Ravenclaw a few quidditch wins ago, and even then, you were just sucking face because you were drunk.”
He finally pushes me away from him, trying to hide a smile. I chuckle, gaining my bearings, and finally landing comfortably on my knees in the water a foot away from him.
“You wouldn’t be so offended if I were wrong,” I tease.
“Yeah? And when’s the last time you dated somebody?”
I scoff. “You scare off every boy who tries to ask me out.”
“Cause they’re all ridiculous,” he states, making a face. “Are you seriously telling me you wanted to go out with that Johnny kid from Hufflepuff?”
I smirk. “Touché. But still, it’s not my fault I’m not dating anyone. You, on the other hand…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he quirks a brow.
“You’ve got all kinds of girls chasing after you. What’s your excuse?”
He pauses for a moment, then smirks. “Who else would waste all their time with you if I were too busy with some girl? You’d be all alone. I’m doing you a service by staying single.”
“Please. You and that ego, I swear,” I shake my head. “I have plenty of friends outside of you.”
“I’m the best one, though,” he says, a brow raised with a cocky smile.
I make a face, then splash him once more for good measure.
“That’s it,” he mumbles, tackling me.
I yell a little with a laugh as his arm wraps around my back and drops me onto the bank where the water was scarce. I keep my head propped up as much as I can, though the rest of me is still covered in a little bit of water. It doesn’t help that James is pressing me into the ground.
“Admit it. I am the single greatest person you’ve ever met.”
I laugh again. “In your dreams.”
“Not letting you up until you admit it.”
“Guess we’re stuck here forever, then,” I argue back.
“Guess so,” he says plainly, dropping his full weight on me. I groan, my breath getting squeezed from me. “Best to make myself comfortable, then.”
“You’re so heavy,” I whine.
He chuckles, just quietly observing me for a moment. I tilt my head in question as he doesn’t snark back. He swallows, a small smile still on his face, but a little bit of color now in his cheeks. My eyes widen a little bit.
“Jamie—”
He doesn’t give me a chance to get anything else out, his lips pressing to mine softly. I freeze, in shock at the sudden change of circumstance. My best friend is kissing me. He stays there for a moment, and only pulls away when he realizes I wasn’t kissing him back, his cheeks taking on a deeper shade.
“I’m sorry, I don’t…” he shakes his head, looking at me with his lips still parted. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
He gets off of me quickly, getting out of the pond and back to where we left our clothes. He casts a drying spell on himself and starts getting dressed. Meanwhile, I’m still in the water, feeling like I’m stuck. I swallow with a dry throat, turning to see him starting to pull on his pants. I finally get up, quickly moving towards him.
“Jamie—“
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he shakes his head, not looking at me.
I let out a frustrated groan. “We have to talk about that, James.”
“Not right now. Just,” he sighs, looking at me quickly. He takes out his wand again, casting that same drying spell on me. “Get dressed. We don’t want to miss dinner.”
I stare at him for a moment as he continues putting his clothes on, then finally move to get mine on. We finish getting dressed in an uncomfortable silence, that kiss playing on repeat in my mind. Why would he do that?
I look at him when I’m done to see him staring at his shoes, his hands shoved in his pockets. I walk nearer to him, though he takes half a step back when he notices. I furrow my brow.
“Don’t start that.”
“Start what?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“Pulling away from me,” I say, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m not going to lose you as a friend all because you—”
“I’m not pulling away from you,” he rolls his eyes. “I just— I don’t want to… I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He scoffs. “Right, because there’s nothing embarrassing about trying to kiss your best friend while she looks at you like you’re crazy.”
I sigh. “I just didn’t know what was happening. You’ve never done anything like that before.”
He looks away, chewing at his lip. “Can we just forget about it? I really don’t… I didn’t mean to.”
I fall quiet for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts, but they’re all seeming to escape me. I let go of his arm, taking in a deep breath.
“You know I love you, right?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I know.”
“Okay. Yeah, we can forget about it,” I nod. “You want to go get dinner, then? I heard a rumor they’ll have those apple tarts you like.”
He looks at me, smiling a little bit. “Yeah?”
I nod again, smiling back. “Would I lie?”
He chuckles a little, nodding towards the way we came into the woods. I start leading the way back out until we see the castle again. He catches up to me at that point.
“Sorry again,” he says quietly.
“About what?” I ask, raising a brow. “All I remember is us swimming around. Unless you’re apologizing for tackling me in the pond, in which case, you’re forgiven only if you get me some chocolate frogs next time we’re in Hogsmeade.”
He smiles a little. “Yeah. Promise I will.”
“Good,” I say, knocking into his shoulder a little.
He nudges me back. Of course. I go a little harder the next time I knock into him, until we’re both practically pushing one another over as we head towards the castle. He gives me a particularly hard shove, barely catching me by the arm before I actually fall to the ground. We’re out of breath from laughing when we finally get to the castle, feeling wonderfully back to normal by the time we reach the Great Hall.
We walk up to the marauders, taking our usual seat across from the three boys.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Where were you two for the past hour?” Sirius asks with a quirked brow.
I snort a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would, considering we saw you wander off into the forest,” he says, leaning forward on his arms with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “None of your business.”
“Always so secretive,” Remus says, stabbing a few potatoes on his fork before looking between us.
I glance at James who laughs as soon as we make eye contact. Though, I also catch another pair of eyes when I turn towards him, and wince a little. Lily looks at me with her brows furrowed from a little ways down the table. I shrug at her, unsure why she looks upset with me. She rolls her eyes, going back to her conversation with Dorcas. I sigh.
“Great. Now Lily’s mad at me because you had to go and turn her down,” I say to James.
Peter laughs. “He turned her down?”
“When did this happen?” Remus asks, looking much more curious now.
“You need to learn how to shut it,” James says to me, his voice a little high as he shakes his head.
“They would’ve found out anyways,” I say, barely feeling sorry at all.
I hold back from chuckling as James is pelted with questions from the boys, focusing more on my food and trying to ignore the occasional sour glance I get from Lily.
Though, I couldn’t escape her forever.
I walked into my room after a night of sitting around with the boys and Marlene in the common room. I thought I would be going to bed and falling asleep, but clearly it was wishful thinking. Lily stared at me from her bed as Marlene and I shut the door behind us.
I raised a brow. “Hi?”
Marlene looked between us, excusing herself to take a shower. The traitor.
“What the hell?” Lily said, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, what the hell? Why have you been giving me sour looks all day?”
She scoffed. “You told me to tell him, and you know what he did? Oh. Wait, of course you know. Because of course he already told you. Because of course—”
“Oh my god, Lily,” I roll my eyes, going to sit on my bed next to hers. “I’m sorry that I was wrong about how he’d react, but I had no clue. I thought he still had a thing for you.”
She huffs a sigh. “I should’ve known you were setting me up. What, do you like to see me embarrassed?”
“If I did, I would’ve gone along to watch it happen,” I say, annoyed at her attitude. “Sorry I was wrong, but I didn’t know. And you said you wanted to tell him, anyways.”
“You don’t seem to be that sorry considering you were back to hanging around him again all day.”
“He’s my best friend, Lily. I’m not going to ditch him because he didn’t have feelings for you,” I say, shaking my head.
She stands up suddenly. “Well, maybe you should. Maybe if you weren’t like… In love with him, you’d be a better friend to me.”
I stare at her in annoyance. “You need to get a grip. I wouldn’t have encouraged you to try telling him if I was ‘in love’ with him. We’re friends. You’re being insane.”
“Well, clearly he at least has feelings for you!”
I furrow my brow. “Excuse me?”
“Why else would he reject me?”
I laugh against my better judgement. “Are you serious? One boy doesn’t like you, so it just has to be because he’s in love with someone else? Lily, I love you, but that is the most egotistical thing you’ve ever said.”
“But you’re not denying it.”
“James isn’t in love with me. Have you considered that he just doesn’t like you anymore? It happens. People move on,” I say, sighing. “Just… Go to bed, Lily. This is a ridiculous and pointless argument.”
I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes while I wait to get into the bathroom. I hear Lily mutter something under her breath, but choose to ignore it. The more she got angry with me, the less I cared that she got her feelings hurt. I didn’t want to be unsympathetic, but it was getting hard to be concerned when I was blamed for a boy not liking her. Obviously James didn’t like me.
Obviously.
I think.
He did kiss me.
I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment. James didn’t like me, did he? He’d never shown interest in me before. That kiss probably just happened because he was confused. He wanted to forget about it, anyways, so clearly that had to mean he didn’t mean it. And I didn’t feel that way about him anyways, so it didn’t matter.
Except, I did feel my heart pound a little differently when he looked at me before the kiss.
I didn’t hate the way his lips felt.
Seeing him smile at me on the walk back did give me a few butterflies.
But, no. That’s nothing. He’s my best friend, I wouldn’t suddenly start feeling that way about him. I couldn’t. It’d be ridiculous.
It’s not like I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about him. Except that I did. A lot.
I woke up the next morning, feeling like I was going insane. I’d never felt that way about him before. Of course, I always though he was attractive. How could anybody look at him and not think he was gorgeous? But there was never anything more besides friendship. So why could I not stop thinking about him?
My eyes feel heavy as I sit in my last class of the day, James trying repeatedly to mess with me throughout the class. With five minutes left, he leans in closer. Since when did he start smelling so good?
“Hey,” he says quietly, drawing my attention. “What’s wrong? You’re not getting mad at me.”
“Just tired, Jamie,” I shrug, staring at the notes on the chalkboard that I haven’t copied down.
“That’s a lie. I can tell.”
I sigh. “Have you ever… Has anyone ever told you something about yourself that you thought wasn’t true, and then… And then you realize they might be right?”
He furrows his brows. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Like, let’s say someone tells you that you like strawberries, when you’ve never liked strawberries. But then you think about every time you’ve had a strawberry, and you realize that you actually really did like strawberries. A lot more than you thought you did. Like… you realize strawberries are your favorite fruit.”
He stares with a confused look, tilting his head. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.
“Are you feeling alright?”
I lean away from him, rolling my eyes. “Cut it out.”
He smiles, nudging me slightly. “Can’t say I’ve had that experience, no.”
I groan. “This sucks.”
“Why can’t you just tell me what actually happened?” he asks. He pouts. “Please?”
I smile at him, trying hard to be annoyed, but finding it difficult. God, I’m in trouble.
“I just can’t. It’s… private.”
“You never keep secrets from me.”
“I don’t even know what secret I’m keeping just yet,” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Aw,” he coos. “You say that like you aren’t already.”
I push him, laughing softly, though we both straighten up when the professor reprimands us. We give a quick apology, still smirking at each other the next time we catch one another’s eye.
The next days pass by in a blur as I come to terms with what I’ve been feeling. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t talk to anyone, especially since Lily was still mad at me. Now, though, I couldn’t blame her as much. She somehow realized I was into him before I did.
“Hey,” Remus says, coming up to me as I sit in the common room. “It’s late. Why are you still here?”
“Why are you?”
He shrugs, sitting next to me. “Can’t sleep. Moon’s coming in a couple days.”
I hum in acknowledgement. “Gotcha.”
He settles into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks sideways at me as I stare into the fire.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Cause I can’t tell anybody.”
He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You’ve been off for days. James keeps complaining about how you’re not spending time with him as much.”
I shake my head, not responding.
“You need to talk to someone about this.”
“Can’t.”
“Bullshit.”
I look at him. “Seriously. I can’t talk to Jamie about it, Lily’s still mad at me, and Marls and Dorcas are too gossipy.”
“You can talk to me,” he shrugs.
“You wouldn’t get it, though.”
“Try me.”
I let out a breath. “You have to promise this stays a secret.”
He nods. “Promise.”
“Okay,” I say under my breath. “Okay. So, um, Lily got really mad at me the other day because of the whole…. Confession thing. And I didn’t understand why, and she started accusing me of things, and obviously I disagreed… But then something she said kind of stuck with me.”
“She’s just mad. Don’t listen to her,” Remus says, shaking his head. “You know how she gets when she’s in one of those moods.”
“But I think she was kind of right,” I sigh. “That’s the problem. She thinks… She told me she thought I was into James. And not like friends, like really into him.”
Remus’s eyes widen a little. “And… are you?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for the past week, and… I think I might be.”
“Whoa. I know we always tease you two for how close you are, but I never thought you…”
“I know,” I groan, my face in my hands. “And I know I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as usual because of it, but I don’t know what to do. How do you tell your best friend that you suddenly realized you’re in love with him?”
He doesn’t answer, just reaches over and gives me a hug. I accept it, sighing a little.
Our next week goes over just like that. I don’t avoid James by any means, but I try not to always be alone with him. I do find more opportunities to talk with Remus about it all, though, and it helps. Just to have someone to listen to me as I complain about my feelings. I do the same for him when he has troubles, though mine seem silly in comparison. He always tells me not to compare, though.
Unfortunately, though, as much as those chats help me process my feelings, they don’t help me get over those feelings at all. If anything, they only grow the more I think about James.
It’s super annoying.
Even more annoying is Lily’s smug look when I tell her about my feelings for James. I expected her to be mad at me, but she did something worse: she laughed at me.
“I knew it!”
“How? I didn’t know!”
“Because you are so obvious,” she shakes her head.
I scoff. “I’m clearly not that obvious or else you wouldn’t have told me you had a crush on him.”
“Alright. Fair enough,” she quirks a brow. “But still.”
I roll my eyes, walking over to hug her.
“Sorry about that. If I knew I had a crush on him I wouldn’t have told you to go for him.”
“Sorry back,” she says. “Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you that he told me no.”
“I agree,” I laugh.
She whacks me in the arm, laughing back.
I try to go about my life as usual over the next couple of weeks. There’s no sense in making myself miserable or drawing attention to my small shift in behavior. I find myself still doing most of the same things I always did. Just a bit more carefully.
I sit with the boys at dinner, laughing at their stupid jokes and the plans they have for pranks. I finish my food, pushing the plate away from me, and listening in on a conversation being had between Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
“You know, those three plan on being out all night,” James says quietly, leaning close to me as he watches the three boys talk.
I raise a brow. “Yeah? Doing what?”
“They wanted to just be out of the castle for the night. Think Sirius and Remus are going to the shrieking shack, and Peter is sneaking out to go meet up with some other friends in Hogsmeade, I guess.”
“And you aren’t running off?”
He shakes his head. “Told them I’d stay behind. Thought me and you could have a sleepover. Like old times.”
I chuckle. “It has been a while.”
“I think close to a year. They’re always in my space,” he says, feigning annoyance. “But it’ll just be us tonight, if you want.”
I push down whatever feeling rises in my chest at that and agree, despite my better judgement.
He pulls me into his room that night, immediately going to the foot of his bed, looking at me like he’s about to change my life.
“I brought something a little… fun,” he smiles, opening up his trunk to show me his secret stash of drinks. “Thought we might finally crack it open.”
I laugh. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?”
“Hey, we’ve had plenty at the Gryffindor events,” he smiles. “This is just for us. Our secret.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m the greatest.”
We find ourselves on his floor after a few drinks, feeling fuzzy and happy. We talk about nothing for hours, occasionally passing a bottle between us.
“Maybe we should do this more often,” he says, smiling up at the ceiling. “I miss spending time with you like this.”
“We’re always together.”
“You spend a lot of time with Moony lately. Not fair, I want you all to myself,” he chuckles, poking my side.
I laugh, poking him back. “I’m still all yours. Love Moony so much, but you’re still my favorite I think. Now, if Sirius decided to start hanging around me more, then you’d be in trouble.”
He giggles, his cheeks rosy. I watch him carefully, feeling warm in the face myself, but for a different reason.
“You have a really cute laugh,” I say before I can think about it.
He looks at me with a smile, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“You’ve never told me that before.”
I shrug. “I should’ve.”
He stares back at me for a moment, giving me a little silly smile. He leans over me, propping himself up with his forehead next to my head. He leans down, much like he did that day we went swimming. But this time I kiss him back. My hand finds his cheek, holding him gently as I let him work his lips against mine. I can’t deny the warmth that spreads over me or the butterflies I feel this time.
This time it lasts for a few minutes, neither of us bothering to pull away. Whether that’s because he actually likes it or because we’re both drunk and don’t know any better, I don’t know. I also don’t care.
He finally pulls away after a little while, still giving me that smile as if he didn’t just take all the air in my lungs away from me.
“We can pretend that one didn’t happen, either,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, unsure what to say. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I couldn’t tell him that without outing myself. I settle for the way his hand mindlessly reaches for mine as we go back into conversation like nothing ever interrupted us in the first place. Eventually, we move to his bed, preferring the softness of the mattress and pillows over the hard ground.
“Can I ask why you’ve been spending all your time with Remus?” he asks during a lull in the conversation, playing with my fingers as he does.
“Just became better friends recently, I guess,” I say, glancing at him. I admire his face for a moment before snapping out of it. “Some stuff I can talk to him about that I haven’t been able to tell anyone else. It’s been nice to have someone to listen.”
“I could do that for you. You didn’t have to go to him.”
“Not this time, Jamie. It’s… different.”
“How?”
“It just is,” I sigh. “I’ve had too much to drink for us to be having this conversation, James.”
He whines. “Please? I just want to know.”
“No. Maybe I’ll tell you someday, but not now.”
He grumbles, turning over and resting his head on my chest. His arm rests over my stomach. I just hope and pray he doesn’t feel how hard my heart starts beating when he does.
“Play with my hair?” he asks, his voice a little muffled.
“Okay,” I reply softly, running my fingers through his messy hair. “This okay?”
He nods a little. “Mhm. Thanks.”
We don’t wake up until the next morning, still stuck in that same position.
I find myself with Remus again the following night. I sit on a chair, and he lounges on the couch, trying not to judge me for putting myself in that situation. I don’t tell him about the kiss, but he hears about everything else.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he says after a beat of silence when I finish explaining. “You either need to tell him, or put some distance between you.”
“I tried that today.”
“I know,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s all James could talk about. Complaining the whole day that you weren’t eating with us or not going to the library when we were.”
“See? I feel like nothing I do is right in this situation,” I say, feeling defeated. “Like, how am I supposed to keep spending time with him like everything’s normal when I’m practically floating every time he so much as looks at me. It’s pathetic. And I can’t just ignore him, cause then he goes and bugs you all.”
“Maybe you just need to—”
“Hey,” James’s voice calls from behind us.
I look at him, noticing the annoyed look on his face. It doesn’t seem like he’s overheard us, but I can’t tell why he looks so irritated. Usually he’d be annoyed if I didn’t bother with them all day, but he looks… mad. I quirk a brow.
“Hey,” I say, confused.
He doesn’t reply, looking a little upset and a little lost. I turn back to Remus after a moment of silence, our conversation effectively being cut short. I stand up quickly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to Remus, starting to walk past James in order to get to my room.
“What’s going on?” James asks, grabbing my upper arm.
I turn around quickly. “What?”
He clenches his jaw, then looks at Remus. “Moony, we need a minute.”
Remus goes to argue, but drops it quickly when he sees James looking more serious than he ever has. He gets up, giving me a sympathetic look before he heads towards the boys’ dorms. I glare at James as he hasn’t let go of my arm yet.
“Why did you do that?”
“Why are you with him again?”
I scoff. “You mean our friend? Did you ever think maybe we were talking?”
“That’s the problem,” he says, dropping my arm.
“How is that a problem? I’m going through something and he’s just trying to help—”
He sighs harshly, looking around like he’s lost. He looks back at me with his brows furrowed.
“I don’t get it,” he says, practically whining. “You never keep things from me, and now you’re telling Moony all of your secrets and ditching me for him and… And I don’t understand it. We’re supposed to be best friends.”
“We are, Jamie, there’s just some things that I can’t—”
“Why not?” he swallows, tears starting to prick his eyes. “Why can’t you tell me? You never do this. We tell each other everything.”
I freeze for a moment, my mouth drying up as I look at him. I want to reach out for him and hold him and make him feel better. But I also want answers, because it’s his fault that everything got screwed up. He didn’t have to reject Lily. He didn’t have to kiss me when we were swimming. He didn’t have to do it again on his bedroom floor. He didn’t have to treat me like I was the most important person in his life.
“Then tell me why you kissed me,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head a little. “I don’t know.”
“Then figure it out! You don’t just get to kiss me and then act like you just did it for no reason.”
His chest heaved from his breathing, staring at me. His cheeks tinged pink again as he took a moment.
“I—I just wanted to. I don’t know. You were there and you were looking at me like that and you just…” he huffed a sigh. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Why?” I asked, frustrated.
“Because,” he said back, his tone matching mine. “Because I always want to kiss you and I slipped up and did it one time—”
“You did it twice!”
“Okay! Two times,” he exclaims. “We promised we would just forget about it.”
“And what exactly is that even supposed to mean?”
“You’re so fucking oblivious,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “God, what do I have to do to make you understand that I’m—”
I wait as he stops talking. “That you’re what?”
“I’m in love with you. I have been forever, and you’ve never cared,” he says, letting out a shuddering breath. “And now you’re spending all of your time with Remus. And it’s so embarrassing that I’m sat here hopelessly in love with my best friend of over ten years while she’s running around with another one of our friends.”
“Running around with him? We sit in the common room and talk because you’re fucking infuriating!”
“Oh, so you’re gossiping about me?” he asks, voice raising as mine does once again.
“Not gossiping, just—”
“Just what?”
“I’m in love with you, too, you fucking tosser!”
He looks angry for a few moments, then it switches to confusion, then shock, and possibly the five stages of grief before he finally lands on raised brows and an open mouth.
“You what?” he exclaims.
“You’re so annoying,” I say, groaning. “Yeah, Lily had to go and tell me I was in love with you, and she always has to be fucking right about everything, doesn’t she?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now?” he asks incredulously, furrowing his brows. “You just told me you loved me.”
“I’m aware, James,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Well… Did you mean it?”
“Obviously,” I say, shaking my head at him like it was a dumb question.
“You’re so dumb,” he says under his breath.
Before I can say anything else, he’s moving forward, his hands on my cheeks as he crashes his lips into mine. I melt into him, this kiss being way more passionate than the one we shared the night before. I hold onto his waist, letting him deepen the kiss, though it only lasts for a minute or two after that.
He pulls away. “You’re infuriating. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You didn’t tell me anything, either!”
“I kissed you twice!”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count. You said we should forget about both times.”
“Only cause I thought that’s what you’d want,” he defends, making an annoyed face.
I try to be angry, but it’s a difficult task. I reach up, running a thumb over his furrowed eyebrows.
“So grumpy,” I mutter. “Just told you I was in love with you. You’d think you’d at least try to be happy.”
He scoffs a laugh, pulling me into a hug, his face buried in my neck.
“I’ve never been happier.”
We hear footsteps coming down a few moments later.
“You owe me ten galleons,” Sirius’s voice says.
I look over James’s shoulder as he keeps holding onto me, not caring that our friends are right there.
“You were betting on us?” I ask.
Sirius nods with a smirk. “And Peter just lost. He thought you’d take until the end of the year to get together. I said it’d be in this term.”
“I didn’t bet,” Remus says from behind Sirius, holding his hands up in surrender with a small smile. “Glad you worked it out, though.”
I smile at them, shaking my head and turning my attention back on James again. He looks at me finally.
“I’m glad, too,” he says quietly. “Think I might’ve combusted if I had to keep pretending I didn’t want you like that.”
“Didn’t do a great job at covering for it, though. Still kissed me twice.”
“You say like you didn’t love it,” he smirks with a wink.
————-> SMUT STARTS HERE. 18+ <-————
James finally pulls away, taking my hand in his.
“Good, now that you’re all out the room, if you’ll excuse us…” he says, pulling me past the boys who all groan in disgust.
I giggle as he practically runs to his room with my hand in his, kissing me the second the door is shut and locked. I smile into the kiss, my arms around his neck. He starts kissing my cheek and jaw after a few minutes.
“Hope you’ve been feeling the tension as much as I have, cause I could probably cum in my pants right now if you asked me to,” he says casually, as if it wouldn’t send a wave of arousal down my body.
“Oh my…” I trail off as he bites at my neck softly. “Are we gonna…?”
He pauses, his eyes wide. “Oh. I probably should’ve asked before I assumed, huh?”
He winces a little at his own excitement, cheeks tinged pink.
“Sorry.”
I smile softly. “That’s okay. I— I want to, I just didn’t know if that’s what the plan was.”
He smiles again brightly, kissing me once more. He giggled against my lips, then starts backing me towards the bed.
“I really do love you. Kind of embarrassing, really. I think I have forever,” he says softly, laying me down on the mattress and crawling over me.
I let out a soft breath. “Embarrassing for me, I think. I didn’t even realize until someone else told me I did.”
He laughs again, starting to kiss down my neck.
“I kind of always wanted you to be my first time, to be honest,” he says against my skin.
I pause, realizing what’s really happening. “Oh. Oh my god.”
“What?” he asks, leaning up to start unbuttoning my shirt.
“Wait, have you never… You haven’t done this either, have you?”
“Not all the way,” he shakes his head, then looks at me with wide eyes. “Is that okay?”
“That’s okay. I haven’t either. Just… You know. I’ve done some hand stuff but that was it.”
He looks at me again, then starts laughing a little. I find myself laughing right back as reality sets in for both of us.
“We’re gonna take each others virginity,” I say, still laughing a little. “Oh my god.”
He snorts a laugh. “Didn’t wake up this morning thinking this would happen, that’s for certain.”
I smile. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he teases, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose.
I watch as he finishes taking off my shirt, getting up just enough to help him pull it and my camisole off completely. He sits back on his knees, staring at me for a moment.
“You alright, Jamie?”
He nods. “Doing great, love.”
He starts taking off his own shirt, then. As many times as I’d seen his arms and chest, you’d think I wouldn’t still feel amazed seeing him in just his trousers… But I couldn’t stop staring, either. He leaned back in, kissing me again. I let my hands run over his arms and back, having free reign to do so and enjoying it. He nipped at my lip, a little noise leaving me and making him smile against my lips. I do the same to him, both of us ending up grinning at each other again.
“This is nice,” I say quietly. “Doing this with you, it’s nice. I like that we don’t feel like we have to act… sexy.”
“Well, that because it’s never an act for me, love,” he winks with a smirk.
I pull him back down with a giggle, though the smile is wiped from my face when he rolls his hips into mine. Feeling him hard for me for the first time leaves me a little breathless, especially when he’s grinding into me. I small groan leaves me when he does it again.
“Like it when you do that,” he says into my ear, doing it again just to get another reaction out of me. “I like those little sounds you make. So pretty.”
I find myself breathing heavily, my hands squeezing between our bodies to start unbuckling his belt. He gets the hint and sits up, pulling it off himself.
“Get out of those, yeah?” he says, nodding at my bottoms as he works himself out of his.
I comply immediately, shimmying out of my trousers and tossing them onto the ground. He gets back on top of me as soon as we’re both one layers closer to what we really want. I let my hand slide into his underwear as he stars kissing at my neck again, letting out a shuddering breath when I finally feel him. He whimpers into my neck as I start stroking him, rutting his hips into my hand.
“Feel so good, love,” he says, voice whiny and desperate.
I groan back, especially as one of his hands slides under the band of my panties to slip a finger into me. I feel myself growing hotter, kissing him and swallowing the moans he lets out as my hand keeps working him over.
“Shit, Jamie,” I moan as he adds a second finger.
“Good for you?” he breathes out.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Yes. Very.”
I whine as he gets me closer to the edge, his hips doing all the work as my hand stopped moving up and down his length. He adds pressure to my clit with his thumb, sending me careening over the edge with praises and his name on my lips.
He pulls his hand away from me suddenly.
“Can’t wait any longer, love,” he says, voice wrecked.
He slides my panties off my legs as I take my bra off. Then, I watch with wide eyes as he pulls his underwear off, his cock bigger than I was expecting by far. I knew he felt big, but seeing him was entirely different.
“Fuck,” I say, staring at him. “Don’t know if I can take that, Jamie.”
“Yeah, you can, love,” he nods, settling between my legs and kissing me softly. “You can take it, baby.”
He pushes himself up just enough for both of us to see him rubbing his head through my slick before prodding at my entrance. He starts pushing in slowly. I let out a loud groan, my eyes shutting.
“Shh, just relax, love,” he says, lips hovering over mine. “You’re doing so good. Taking it so well, baby.”
He whimpers against my lips as he keeps pushing in slowly.
“So big, Jamie,” I moan, watching him disappear inside of me.
“I know, baby,” he says, a few more little noises spilling from his mouth. “I know, but you’re being so good. My good girl.”
He bottoms out, both of us panting and holding onto each other as I adjust to the new feeling. It hurts a little, but not in a bad way. Especially when he starts moving. That bit of pain makes way for a lot of pleasure once he starts rocking into me at a steady pace, whining and moaning into my ear.
“S’good, Jamie. You feel so good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“So good for me, baby. Squeezing me nice,” he whines, pinning me down under the weight of his body. “Good girl. So proud of you taking me so well.”
“Gonna cum again,” I say, feeling it building in my stomach again.
“Me too, baby. Just a little more,” he says, pressing his face into my neck again. “Don’t want to be done so soon, but you feel so perfect. You’re so good for me.”
I moan at his ramblings of praise, his words only causing me to get closer to that peak again. I hold onto him tightly, my body wrapped around his as he fucks into me like we’d done it a million times before. I speak his name over and over and over again as I crash down, my eyes rolling back from the intensity of the orgasm, and the fact that he doesn’t stop fucking me through it.
Though, near the end of my peak, he moans out a hundred more praises, my name falling from his lips as I feel him fill me up with his cum. He whimpers again against my skin as he finishes, not stopping the movement of his hips until he’s visibility overstimulated.
We breathe heavily, holding onto one another tightly as we come down from our highs, his hair sticking to his forehead as he leans in to kiss me softly again.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “You’re perfect.”
I breathe out, a small smile on my face. “You… Yeah. Oh my god. I thought the first time was supposed to be bad.”
“It was perfect for me. But I barely lasted, it couldn’t have been that great for you,” he says, looking a little disappointed that he might not have done a good job for me.
I shake my head. “You still made me come harder than I ever have. You were incredible, Jamie. I mean it.”
He smiles softly. “I’m gonna have to kick them out of here more often. I might be addicted now.”
“And we have more things to try,” I add. “Can’t let this happen only once a week or something. Too much to figure out, I think.”
He giggles again. “Like what?”
“I’d really like you in my mouth next time.”
His smile drops. He starts nodding quickly. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll kick them out at two in the morning if you ask. Whatever you want.”
I laugh, pulling him into another kiss.
“Now, we have to figure out that contraceptive spell, or else we might be in some trouble,” I say with a smile.
“Sorry about that,” he smirks, clearly not sorry. “I’m sure Sirius knows it.”
“Please. As if he isn’t fucking Remus whenever those two run off to the shrieking shack.”
James’s eyes widen. “What?”
I snort a laugh.
“And you called me the oblivious one.”
#james potter#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter x reader#james potter fluff#james potter smut#james potter fic#james potter fanfiction#best friend!james#bsf!james potter#marauders smut#marauders fluff#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#marauders x reader#marauders#luna still hates jk#luna’s james fics
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Shades Of Cool
toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader
summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.
warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..
a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.
series
One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.
It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,
"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.
"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.
"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.
"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.
JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"
"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.
"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.
"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.
"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.
"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.
"And when-" Pope began.
"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.
You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.
You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.
But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.
All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.
But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.
"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.
You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.
Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.
Which meant the only choice was the beach party,
JJ cheered, "I win!"
You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.
It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.
You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.
Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.
You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.
All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.
But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.
And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.
You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.
You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.
His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.
You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.
"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.
His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.
He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.
You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.
You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.
"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.
"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.
"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.
"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"
"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"
"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"
"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"
"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.
"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.
"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.
"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"
"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.
He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.
"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.
Great attempt at being a gentlemen.
"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.
"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.
"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.
He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.
The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?
"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.
"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.
You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"
He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.
Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"
"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.
"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.
He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"
Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"
He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.
Asshole.
"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"
"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.
He really believed in this bullshit.
"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.
"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.
"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.
"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.
"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.
"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.
"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.
The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.
As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.
He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.
'What an asshole,' You thought,
Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.
You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.
You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.
You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.
You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.
You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.
You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.
Sounds like how they described him.
But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.
You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.
Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.
You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,
And everything went black.
tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22
#dark obx#dark!rafe#obx#rafe cameron#dark rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks#dark fic#rafe cameron x reader#toxic!rafe#toxic!rafe cameron#toxic relationship#obx2#rafe obx#obx3#obx fic#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks masterlist#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#outer banks smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafecameron#rafe#rafe fanfiction#singmyaubade
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34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww
(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)
pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it
a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.
edited to add: i am considering an epilogue if that’s something anyone is interested in
tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n
“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.
You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.
“Oh, thanks,” you say in response.
He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.”
“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile.
Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far.
“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you.
Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”
A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that.
“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves.
“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.
“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”
“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.”
“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.
The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different.
“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod.
This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away.
Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning.
The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts.
You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing.
Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief.
Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application.
“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”
“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension.
“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?”
“That’s impressive,” he says.
“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.”
“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.”
You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.”
“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.
“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover.
Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night.
You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses, journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.
After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love.
There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around.
“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more.
You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.”
“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.
“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.
“Well,” you start.
“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.
Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged.
His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs.
Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look.
“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera.
“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.
“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.
“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh.
The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.”
“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.”
“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures.
You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window.
“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.
“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”
Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card.
“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.
“Fine,” you say and he smiles.
It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.
“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.”
“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel.
“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease.
“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.”
“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”
He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.
“Late for something?” you venture.
“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.”
“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.
“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.
“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.
“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.
And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.
It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.
The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam.
You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine.
Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists.
Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well.
“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts.
You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.”
“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish.
Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think.
The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.”
“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece.
“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”
You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.”
“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.”
“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently.
“You already have a favorite?” you joke.
“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.
This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?”
This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.”
That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.”
“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs.
You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand.
“Wonwoo,” he answers.
“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.
“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says.
“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.
“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.
“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.
“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?”
“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.
“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.
It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.
Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks.
“What time?”
Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out.
Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it.
His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.
“Have you been here before?” you ask.
“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.
“Either,” you shrug.
“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.”
“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.
“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you.
“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.
“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right.
“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.
“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.”
“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.
“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.
“Humor me,” you say.
There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same.
By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events.
Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.
Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.
Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.
He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly.
“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan.
“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.
“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you.
“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.”
That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you.
“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands.
You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape.
“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.
It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up.
“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.
Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip.
“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.
“Or what?” you challenge again.
He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap.
“Shit,” you hiss.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”
“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt.
“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.
“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.
“I will,” you promise.
“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.”
In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you.
“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.
He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?”
“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”
He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.”
His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it.
It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes.
“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.
“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.”
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.
In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high.
“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.
“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.”
“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air.
“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers.
Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.
“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages.
“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg.
“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting.
“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on.
“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp.
There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could.
As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.
“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out.
“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts.
“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.”
“I want you to make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs.
“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.
“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.
It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.
“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.
“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze.
“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.
“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.
“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases.
“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets.
“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.”
Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place.
For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy.
He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control.
“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!”
“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?”
“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.”
You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on.
As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.
“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless.
“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says.
He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is.
A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.
It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room.
By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.
“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says.
You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.
“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.
“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses.
“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit.
“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.”
Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized.
“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out.
“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.
“And my ass,” you remind him.
“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.”
“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence.
“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.
Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes.
“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”
The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication.
“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.”
“I’m here doing…” you start.
“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?”
“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.”
Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this.
It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission.
“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head.
“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees.
“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask.
Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.”
“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around.
“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it.
“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.
“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?”
“No,” you say shortly.
“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses.
You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.”
“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.
“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.”
“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.
“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest.
You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol.
“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.
“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically.
“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. “Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.”
“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm.
“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you.
“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully.
“Why?” he asks.
“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.”
“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.
“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter.
He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.”
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”
“If I can walk at all,” you grumble.
“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses.
The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.
That’s also very clearly a lie.
Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though.
Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements.
Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can
It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.
“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.
“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.
“Are you going to call him?” he asks.
“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true.
Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.”
There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life.
With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.
You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!
It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey.
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.
“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.
“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say.
You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”
The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.
That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work.
Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.
Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you.
“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers.
“I answered you right away,” you point out.
“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.
“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.
“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this.
“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”
“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.”
“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him.
“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks.
“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?”
“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says.
“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.”
“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.
“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.”
“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.
“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.
“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.”
“Yeah, that works,” you agree.
“See you when you’re back,” he says.
“See you,” you answer and hang up.
It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.
Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be.
Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?
“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.
“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.
“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”
“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek .
“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest.
“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.
The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.
Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating.
It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight.
The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up.
The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk.
When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside.
“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers.
“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.
“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says.
That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next.
“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.
“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call.
“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat.
“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.”
“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede.
“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.
It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special.
All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room.
Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.
Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never.
It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this.
It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least.
Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it.
It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space.
Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.
Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory.
“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to.
“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”
“About what?” he asks innocently.
“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”
“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.”
“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.
“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.
“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you.
“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.
“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.
“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.
“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.
“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him.
“Not yet,” he retorts.
“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.
He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly.
When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth.
This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.
Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.
This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.
The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them.
“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course.
“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.
“Our room?” you question.
“Don’t test me,” he cautions.
“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.
“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.
“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.
Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.”
It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it.
The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that.
It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”
“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there.
You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks.
“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him.
“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.
“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you.
It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.
“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.
“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest.
Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time.
Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes.
The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked.
When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you.
Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you.
“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.
“Feel for yourself,” you encourage.
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again.
Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now.
“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.
“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him.
“Just fuck me already,” you whine.
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you.
He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Look at me,” he directs roughly.
You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.”
“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.
Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.
“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan.
You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.
“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you.
Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge.
Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.
“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”
“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks.
“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly.
His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little.
Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone.
When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel.
You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks.
“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans.
You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands.
With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away.
“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.
“You’re right,” you say with a sigh.
The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work.
Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man.
Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet.
“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore.
“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles.
“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll.
“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”
“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.
“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.
“16,” he answers immediately.
“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.
“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”
“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”
“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.
“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.
“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.
“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.
“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone.
It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.
Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers.
Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to.
Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere.
He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it.
It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy.
“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”
“Such as?” he prompts.
“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.
Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path.
Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.
When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language.
The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day.
The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you.
While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer.
You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.
At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.
Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying.
By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.
It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching.
Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern.
That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.
“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say.
Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”
“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out.
“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug.
“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up.
“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.”
“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.
You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.
“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.
“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.
“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.
“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment.
“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.
“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision.
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.
“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.
“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.
That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.”
“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.
“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.
The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency.
“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.
“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.
“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.
“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”
“I have a life,” you scoff.
“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”
“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.
“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”
“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.”
“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.
“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.”
“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”
“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”
“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out.
“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.”
“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.
“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”
“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.
“I know I am,” you say.
“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues.
“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.
“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”
“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.
“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.
“I don’t know,” you admit.
“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.
“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.
“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.”
There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.
It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it.
“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”
“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.
“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”
“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I’ll never forget that.”
“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead.
Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.
You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is.
The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself.
The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads.
In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.
And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it.
It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you.
There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination.
The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like?
With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision.
i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕
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