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chuluoyi · 9 months

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MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

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hughiecampbelle · 1 month

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Supe Preference: Asking You Out

Requested: hi, idk if you write for the supes, but I will try request anyway :D how would the supes ( the boys series) ask a gn reader out? Ty - anon

A/N: I hope this is okay my love! I tried to stay true to character as much as possible, so I'm not sure how romantic some of them are. I tried writing for new Supes too, at least new for me, so apologies if it's not totally in character! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Homelander doesn't exactly ask you out. Rather, on live TV during an interview or event, he grabs your hand and proclaims that you're in love, that you're a couple. Whether or not you're into him, it still comes as a shock. Afterwards he'll ask you on a date where the public and paparazzi can see and take pictures. It's not as intimate as you'd like, but the date goes well. He takes you to an expensive restaurant where you've gotten rid of your suit for something classy and elegant, but he sticks with his regular attire. It's definitely not how you were expecting to be asked out or how you thought your relationship would progress. Ashley thinks it's great! You are both insanely powerful and, for selfish reasons, she wants Homelander off her back. She appreciates that you'll take some of the attention off her.

The Deep probably makes more than a few inappropriate, crude, raunchy jokes about and around you before he properly introduces himself. It's almost compulsive the way his jokes come out. He just can't help himself. He later apologizes and asks to start fresh. Would you want to go out on a date with him? When you say yes, he instantly tells you about all his ideas. You could go to the aquarium or to dinner or to the amusement park or coffee or whatever you want to do. You stick to coffee. It's pretty cute how excited he is. He wasn't expecting you to say yes, so he really didn't have it planned all the way through. He was expecting, like everyone else in his life, for you to call him stupid and move on without answering.

A-Train and you have been dating forever, but you haven't been out on a date in ages. He's still shy trying to ask you out even now. Of course you say yes, excited you'll get some time alone. You might have to reschedule once or twice because Homelander is on the rampage, but when you do get together, he takes you rollerskating. Despite how fast he is in sneakers, he's awful on wheels. He holds your hand the entire time and definitely drags you down when he falls. He stays pretty casual in his clothes and tries to keep his hood up, but it just falls down. You guys find a roller-rink in the middle of nowhere, so you're pretty safe in being discovered. You make fun of his clumsiness and check him for bruises when he falls, especially hard. He makes the same joke over and over: that he "fell" for you. You think he's an idiot, but this is by far one of your most favorite dates.

Queen Maeve asks you out over text. When you say yes, she shows up in her civilian clothes. She makes sure she isn't followed and that Homelander is distracted the entire day. She takes you to the movies. It's dark and secluded, but she knows you love movie theater popcorn specifically with all the butter and the blue raspberry slushies, and you picked the only movie not funded by or produced by Vought. It's a really terrible comedy, but you two can laugh at it anyway. Maeve even holds your hand during the movie which makes her heart beat out of her chest. Afterwards she makes you stay after to kiss you and tell you she had a really great time. It's the first time in forever where she's felt like a real person whose allowed to do real person things. She wants to get your read on it, but you're both excited for a second date.

Firecracker would ask you on a date to some fast food restaurant where you can get the best greasy food and the thickest milkshakes. She'll definitely be sported because she doesn't go incognito and ends up spending a few minutes at least taking pictures and videos for everyone who wants one. She apologizes for them, but secretly, she loves it. You don't mind. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to the date. She tells you about her life growing up and her past with Starlight. You tell her about your own life and how you came to New York to follow your dreams. She tells you about joining The Seven and what she really thinks of Vought. It isn't the most magical date, but you're glad you said yes. It made you feel like a teenager again, getting food with your old crush, trying to play it cool when you're actually freaking out.

Soldier Boy doesn't really ask you out on a date. You two *get busy* in bed and afterwards he asks if you'd want to go to a bar. You say yes and find yourself at a local hole in the wall, a place that definitely doesn't see new faces. Most of the patrons are as old as Ben would be if he'd aged. He looks so familiar to them, but they can't figure out where he's from. An old friend? An old co-worker? Regardless, they don't pay attention to the two of you. You and Ben start trying to out drink one another and though his tolerance is astronomically higher than yours, you keep up enough to impress him. You two probably go back to bed and keep drinking, sharing stories about your lives between sweaty sheets and shared sips of whatever booze he has lying around. It's not too official, but you both kind of think of it as a date.

Bonus! Annie asks you to go bowling with her. Like in the show, she plays it off like she's not very good until you point it out to her. That's when she starts kicking your ass. She's really embarrassed and worried that you'll think she's showing off or just trying to make you feel bad, but you love it. You love her strength. You love her showing off and almost breaking the pins with the ball. You get really awful bowling alley food and beers, and it's a really fun night despite all the drama that comes with being Starlight. It's the first time in a long time she's felt normal and safe and excited to be here, excited to be herself. You're not shy about asking for a second date, though you know you're risking a lot by wanting to be with her. She makes that known before anything else.

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pippin-katz · 6 months

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The Awardist - Nicholas Galitzine & Taylor Zakhar Perez

I have to write down the best bits and record my thoughts while listening to this because I am completely losing my mind over what is our first real interview with the boys that was recorded in real time.

27:55 - right off the bat we got a great inside joke/reference from the host that had me cackle

28:19 - taylor being happy to see their faces and nicholas immediately shutting him down like "well i'm not happy to see taylor's face"

28:40 - taylor joking about putting a post-in note over nick's face lmfao

29:30 - the way they don't want to talk over each other, it's giving alex's bedroom flashbacks

29:40 - nick being like "oh! oh, it's good!" when dipping into the online response when the movie released lmfao 😆

30:33 - the silence following the social media question where they were apparently nodding followed by taylor saying they were texting each other like "mate" "mate" back and forth

31:20 - THEY TALKED ABOUT THE SIGNING WARS

31:44 - nicholas calling taylor "this little fucker" had me dying cause me and @meraki-yao were literally referring to him as that in our conversation on ig yesterday

32:00 - nicholas genuinely asking taylor "what possessed you to do this?"; it's giving storage closet in the children's hospital vibes when henry's like "why do you dislike me?"

33:04 - "take it nick" immediately upon being asked the dense question regarding fans reacting to their portrayals of henry and alex, and the way that nicholas laughs and stutters makes me think that taylor totally did that on purpose to mess with him lmfao

34:00 - taylor stopping to talk to fans regardless of where he is or where he's going and specfically mentioning how meaningful it was that people have said *TW* they were contemplating suicide when they read the book/watched the movie and that it helped them 🥺

35:40 - the host referred to the film as "a coming out story", which i don't really agree with as a label because the coming out portion is an added piece of their relationship as two public figures, but their love is the actual story

36:40 - nicholas referring to the film as "wholesome and funny" made me smile so much because it truly is wholesome

37:18 - not the host making the "top to bottom" joke 😭

37:58 - nicholas and taylor have talked about their friendship with each other and how they instantly clicked; nick knew within a few minutes of rehearsal that taylor was "his buddy" 🥺

38:41 - catch me squaring up with everyone who has made nicholas self conscious and self deprecating about doing so much intimacy work on the screen that he refers to it as "basically his thing" like that's all he's recognized for; i am so ready to punch some motherfuckers 😡

39:10 - "it's so fun now, seeing my mate at all these awards and stuff"; catch me fucking crying

39:24 - not taylor misremembering the "nicholas or joey" question as "who was the better kisser"; he totally combined the "is nicholas a good kisser" question with the "who has your heart tonight" question

40:05 - taylor talking about matthew's background in theatre and how they got to actually rehearse with each other; i will never stop being insanely grateful that matthew is a theatre guy

40:55 - the way i said "oh my god" out loud because i was so excited by the question

41:14 - improvised the "physicality" of the store room; i.e. they just fell on top of each other and clamored around 😂

41:32 - the way i literally gasped so hard that i started coughing when nicholas called taylor "tay", i am not even fucking joking, that was so fucking cute 😭

43:42 - fucking wheezed upon realizing where the question going

44:02 - the knowing way taylor was like "i will take this one" lmfao

45:10 - not me going so red from second hand embarrassment 🫣

45:44 - taylor bringing the jockstrap that nicholas wears in bottoms, and nicholas immediately adding "i won't even go into mary & george" 😂

47:51 - taylor finishing nicholas' sentence about matthew's direction for the cake scene; sharing a braincell lol

48:36 - taylor's dog passed away the night of the first day of filming like wow, that fucking sucks 🥺😭

49:05 - "everyone's looking at me with these sad eyes" made me so sad but then taylor said "do you want some tea?" in a terrible british accent lmfao

49:50 - nicholas complimenting and boosting taylor's performance while having such a hard time emotionally 🥺

50:49 - taylor bringing up running through the museum; i can hear the smile in his voice while talking about it 😭

51:28 - they filmed the kensington palace fight and the red room the week after nicholas got covid

52:40 - oh my god, the way you can hear nick grinning as he throws taylor under the bus for the sequel question 😂

53:30 - taylor wants a second book to base the sequel off of

54:03 - taylor used they/them pronouns for casey!! see? he knows, it was totally nerves

55:20 - it felt like it was over too soon, i desperately need more of them PLEASE 😭

This is the greatest thing that's happened in like, a month for me lmfao I am literally begging for more people to interview the boys about RWRB, I am so fucking desperate for more content of the two of them together. They are everything to me 🥺

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #matthew lópez #rwrb book #casey mcquiston #rwrb interview #alex claremont-diaz #taylor zakhar perez #henry hanover-stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen-windsor #nicholas galitzine #firstprince #spotify #the awardist

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unlikelypandahologram · 4 months

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Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

#if you're wondering why i didn't include the wfc trilogy it's because those shows fucking suck and i hate them LMAO #transformers #maccadams #megop #edited after the fact to include the new comics lol

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tsukimefuku · 4 months

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lollipop kiss 🍭 kusakabe atsuya

summary: your workplace crush, kusakabe, is pretty dense when it comes to romance, so you try to ease things out with a bag of lollipops.

cw: gn!reader x kusakabe, comedy, fluff, this man is completely clueless but reader isn’t making things any easier. making out and happy ending. there is a bartender very invested in the drama. a little suggestive if you squint.

wc: 1.4k

notes etc.: my contribution for the foodies and goodies challenge. i’m not tagging myself because the voices in my head haven’t reached that point yet. special thanks to @jjk-eugie for inspiring me, i had hit a slump on this (you can read their kusahigu fic that saved my life here). song (?) > sugar, sugar (the archies). I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you enjoy it too!

Here’s the thing - Kusakabe was a brilliant sorcerer. He was regarded by all of the other first grades as the strongest first grade there was.

Regarding human matters, though, he could - and frequently would - be dense like a rock.

To put it bluntly - not a door, but just as thick.

So when it came to romance, attempts to get his attention usually fell on deaf ears.

When you realized you had it down bad for him, you knew you were in for a ride, to say the least.

First, there were the coffee attempts. You had to call him out for a coffee around three times before he accepted it - according to him, there was no need to spend money going out for coffee when Jujutsu High provided you all with free vending machine coffee. You had to patiently explain to him that leaving the premises for a while was the actual goal.

Then, came the drink nights. These weren’t particularly hard, given he did like his alcohol, but he always invited someone else to tag along. Utahime had the good sense to stop going after realizing what you were trying to do when inviting Kusakabe out, but you weren’t as lucky with the other sorcerers.

And finally, something about the days you went out together always gnawed at you. You felt like Kusakabe was in an unreadable state of mind. He’d either stare at you when you weren’t looking - fully believing you didn’t notice it -, or be the most unbothered person in that place. Whenever you approached him trying to make a move, he would act like he had absolutely no interest in you.

It was driving you insane.

Tonight, you were both sharing a few drinks after a particularly gnarly day at work, exorcizing curse after curse after curse. It was that time of year, after all. You were a few pints of beer in already, and he had downed at least two gin tonics by then.

“I’ve got a gift for you, Kusakabe!” you chirped.

“Really? What? Is it a special occasion?” he asked while looking at you surprised.

“No, I just saw it and I remembered you.”

You pulled a giant sack of lollipops from your bag and put it over the counter.

The bartender was looking from afar, and had taken the dynamic between you and Kusakabe as a live soap opera of sorts, one new chapter each week. Last week, you seemed particularly annoyed at the sorcerer and he didn’t notice it - as he usually wouldn’t unless you were literally screaming at him.

“Okay...” Kusakabe offered, slightly uncertain as he pulled the bag towards him.

“This supposedly has five flavors - peach, strawberry, mango, pineapple and watermelon. Since you always have a lollipop with you, I thought it would come in handy,” you chimed in, sparing him a smile.

“That’s... thanks,” was all he said, and for a moment you thought you saw his face and the tips of his ears take on a dusty pink tint.

“So... let’s taste it?”

“Hm... what?”

His face grew redder, and you were almost sure it wasn’t your imagination.

“The lollipops, Kusakabe. Taste the lollipops.”

The bartender scoffed from the other side, keeping down a chuckle.

“Oh! Yeah, sure,” Kusakabe replied, pulling the bag open.

And off you two went pulling lollipop after lollipop from the bag, one of each flavor.

After about an hour or so of chatting and candy, he pulled the only pineapple one there was inside the bag and shoved it into his mouth.

“Oh, that’s the only pineapple one,” you noted. The liquor-bought courage was finally kicking in, and you were ready to make a move.

“Hm, really? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice,” he replied, brushing the nape of his neck with his hand.

“Oh, it’s no trouble. Perhaps I can still taste it,” you remarked, a cheeky smile pulling on your face as you edged yourself closer to him.

The bartender heard your words and stepped nearby, fairly ignoring someone that was calling from the other side of the vicinity.

This was it. All the drama and emotional investment... The pay-off was finally coming.

“Oh, sure. Of course,” Kusakabe replied, and he signaled for the bartender, which got you and the bartender thoroughly confused, “can you get me a glass of water, please?”

It all went swiftly, much to yours and the bartender’s shock. Kusakabe got the glass of water, pulled the lollipop from his mouth, put it into the water and pushed it into your direction.

He seemed pleased with himself in finding a solution for a non-existent problem.

This man better be joking.

“Kusakabe, you moron!” You exclaimed angrily.

“What!? What happened? What did I do!?” Kusakabe asked in earnest, which just served to deepen your annoyance.

“I was asking for a kiss!” you furiously retorted.

He only registered the ‘I was asking’ part.

“Why not just ask for what you want?! Why can’t people simply ask for things directly?! I’m not a psychic!”

The bartender’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’ before it got covered with an incredulous hand.

The plot thickens.

“God, you have no ease for subtleties! How is that possible!? Are you even human!?” you were actively yelling at Kusakabe by that point, lifting yourself up from your seat.

“And are you allergic to communicating directly what you want?!” he retorted, feeling unjustly chastised for not understanding something he had no obligation to guess in the first place.

You grunted, enraged, and began stepping away from him, towards the bar’s exit. After you left, he face-palmed, upset that somehow, things went south with you again.

Only then it dawned on Kusakabe you said you wanted to kiss him.

“Fuck, I’m an idiot,” Kusakabe muttered to himself.

“Kind of,” the bartender mindlessly replied, forgetting this wasn’t an actual soap opera on TV, but a pretty interactive show.

“Huh?” the sorcerer questioned, not sure if he heard it right.

“I mean... I can put it all on your tab and you go after... Uh... it’s fine.”

Looking at the bartender, Kusakabe inhaled deeply and nodded, grabbing the lollipops bag, shoving it inside his trench coat’s pocket, and running after you.

“Hey!” Kusakabe exclaimed when outside, seeing you a little further ahead on the street.

You heard his voice and picked up your pace, taking a turn into a smaller, secondary street.

“Come on, I know you heard me, slow down!” his steps came quicker, and in a second he was right beside you, while you huffed and puffed in frustration.

“Just let me go home, Atsuya! This is too humiliating. I thought you liked me, but I think I’m the moron who got it all wrong!”

He held your arm and you halted your stomping, even though you kept staring at the ground, thoroughly embarrassed.

“You... didn’t,” he stated, voice uncharacteristically faltering.

“... What?”

Kusakabe delicately turned you to look at him and cupped the side of your face with his hand. His eyes were locked to yours, and for a moment, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest. You could smell the sweet, alcoholic scent from his breath, and that was when you realized just how close he was.

“I-“ he stuttered for a moment before clearing his throat, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Your breath got caught in its way out for a second before you replied.

“Okay.”

He closed the gap between you both, pressing your bodies together with his hand over your back, and his lips descended to yours softly, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You pressed back against him, drawing both your hands to the nape of his neck, and deepened the kiss instantly, robbing him of a gasp.

Your tongue teased the seam of his mouth, and he welcomed you in, pressing his own tongue over yours.

Oh, you definitely tasted that pineapple lollipop.

His aftershave still lingered on his skin, and it smelled minty fresh, filling up your nostrils in an instant as your lips slid over each other.

You both parted for a moment.

“You know what?” you said with a smirk forming on your face.

“Hm, what?” he genuinely asked.

“I think the pineapple one was my favorite flavor.”

With an amused expression, he suddenly bit your chin, planting quick pecks and kisses down your jawline and neck.

You chuckled, asking, “since we’re out of the bar, would you like to come over to my house? I remember there were still a lot of lollipops in that bag and I don’t feel like leaving them all to you.”

With a mischievous smile on his face, he pressed a quick kiss on your lips before replying.

“Of course.”

Tag list: @strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @jay220a @fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget

@senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona @rahuratna

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kusakabe #jjk kusakabe #kusakabe atsuya #Kusakabe jjk #kusakabe x reader #kusakabe x you #Kusakabe x y/n #Jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #fuku writes #Tsukimefuku

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coqhee · 2 months

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ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ♡ JAKE SMAU

s. reconnecting with old friends should usually be fun, but when your childhood best friend comes back into town after 7 years apart, all you can feel is awkward tension. or is that tension because of the open-ended confession from 7 years ago? will you rekindle the unaddressed romantic tension between you, or will it drive you insane until you can’t think anymore?

g. friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, slight angst, comedy, cafe owner! reader, corporate ceo! jake

w. female reader, profanity, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, crack, kms/kys jokes, slang, timeline errors, intentional lowercase

ft. karina, minji, julie, yuna, yeonjun, heeseung, sunghoon, jay

taglist. open, send an ask or comment to be added

n. there will be quite a few written portions as i thoroughly enjoy writing out plotpoints :) yes i know i have another series ongoing (iym) going on rn, i PROMISE i’ll finish that !! i will not be creating a profiles page, for each of the friend groups as both will be small.

back to shelf

♡ CHAPTERS

001 ─ theres no way…

002 ─ we’re so up

003 ─ we’re so down more tba. subject to change.

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nightcolorz · 2 months

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Concept: The Tallamasca tries to recruit Daniel back in the 80's, Armand lets it happen because he wants to see what his boy would do

Daniel then proceeds to yell at several Tallamasca agents that they clearly don't know shit about vampires and they just nod and take out notebooks because yes, that's why we want you Mr Molloy, you have more practical experience than any of us

Daniel laughs when they start to ask questions about Armand specifically and he decides to have fun by telling them completely true but completely irrelevant shit about Armand (and maybe some about Louis too, they look surprised that he has met Louis and survived)

The Vampire Armand has great calligraphy, beautiful but still legible

The Vampire Armand drolls on his sleep

The Vampire Armand is a big fan of nail polish

The Vampire Armand's favourite art movement is Dadaism

The Vampire Armand prefers motorbikes to cars

The Vampire Louis loves photography

The Vampire Louis hates it when people dog ear a page on a book to mark where they were at

Daniel intended all this little nonsense fun facts would annoy the agents but to his dismay they keep taking notes and acting as if they are getting some big revelations to update their files with, he gets frustrated and leaves

Armand finds this all very amusing, once again his beloved boy has surpassed his expectations and surprised him, he should reward him with some blood and a nice outing, perhaps a new golden watch for his collection too

Meanwhile the Tallamasca agents are marking Daniel down as a person of interest and plan to follow his whereabouts for the rest of his life, they thought Daniel was some pet/slave for the Vampire Armand who they thought to be around 200 years old and were offering their protecting in exchange of information, their chat with Daniel has revealed that Armand is actually

closer to 500

A lot more powerful than they thought

Capable of blending in with humans to a concerning point

More interested and aware of human affairs than other immortals (again very concerning)

Marius de Romanus creation (they are very excited about this new piece of information)

Allows Daniel an insane amount of freedom but also feels comfortable enough around him to allow himself vulnerabilities such as falling asleep around the human (they update Daniel's file and mark him as a human paramour and possible future vampire, they make a point not to tell this to Daniel)

They also learn that yes, vampires have human-like relationships with each other, this seems obvious to Daniel but it's a very contested fact in the organisation, with defenders and detractors all giving big speeches and presentations defending their opinion on the matter pretty regularly

It was NOT Daniel's intention to reveal any of this, the majority he thought they knew

Daniel: Louis Du Lac is a snob, put a trashy magazine in front of him and he'll literally turn up his nose

The agent, writing it all down: You know more than one vampire? And have talked to them as if they were people and not creatures of the night? And you know them intimately enough to know their opinions on things such as this?

Daniel: wait no, that was supposed to be a useless piece of information

The agent, vibrating with excitement: what else do you know

Daniel, feeling lost and needing a cigarette: Armand likes Blade Runner

The agent: fascinating

Daniel: no, you are supposed to think this is irrelevant

Agent: tell me more about The Vampire Armand's opinions on pop culture

OMGG LOL this is so funny im dying. the concept of Daniel trying to be intentionally unhelpful out of spite and actually being incredibly helpful in the process is soooo peak comedy and in character i love it.

I think any talamasca member would fight tooth and nail to get their hands on extremely mundane vampire fun facts. Their jobs r canonically the useless collecting and maintaining of information on supernatural creatures that they will use for nothing and just like to have for the wow factor and so I feel like they wouldn’t care about the difference between valuable facts and invaluable facts. Armand is capable of exploding ppls internal organs from the inside and Armand has a hyper fixation on mobile apps r both equally valuable bits of lore considering what they plan to do with it (create a profile of his character and store it in a vampire library). So Daniel saying smth like “Louis is insecure about being a bad artist” or “Armand cries during sex” would be like a goldmine for them 💀

#armand #iwtv #interview with the vampire #the vampire chronicles #the vampire armand #amc iwtv #Iwtv amc #amc interview with the vampire #daniel molloy #louis de pointe du lac #devils minion

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mins-fins · 2 months

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a day for love !

"so…what are we exactly?" "mortal enemies". "oh".

synopsis: zhong chenle has too much on his hands, with his musical education studies and being apart of the NCT U student body and basketball team, he has no time for any distractions, but then he meets you, cocky, flirtatious, attractive you, core member of the NCT U fencing team. he's immediately put off, taken aback my your self absorbency and sky high confidence, he finds it annoying, how you never take anything seriously. zhong chenle does not like you, he hates the way you always have his face red, how you make his legs feel weak, how you continue to run through his mind even when he's trying to not think about you. you're so annoying, and he's carrying that sentiment to his grave, he swears.

pairing: zhong chenle x male!reader

genre: university au, strangers to lovers, annoyed (chenle) x annoying (reader), fluff, crack/comedy, again no angst, lowkey fast burn(?), pining pining pining, chenle's in denial the whole time 😭, just super unserious, angry love confessions (kinda), many many other idol cameos, ft. na jaemin the instigator (and also kinda lee heeseung)

warnings: swearing, sexual jokes, mentions of sexy time, threats against your life in like a romantic way, mentions of drinking, lots of back and forth between our main leads, chenle being the stubbornest person ever

word count: 15k

notes: heyyyy… heyyyy…😇 so this is another draft from march that i abandoned for a good few months before finally getting up off my ass and finishing it, im not going to lie, it could've been much better writing wise, the thing that carries this work is the dynamic between chenle & reader which was soooo fun to write because i loosely based it off a dynamic between my irl friends 😭😭 this was originally supposed to come out in may at best BUT.. a lot happened, this is a birthday gift for the one and only user junjiie (take a shot everytime i mention jj in a note) the silliest, my bsf ever, and the person who i constantly attack with unsolicited spoilers! i apologize jj 😓 he listened to all my insane rants about this thing and i always have to thank him bc he's always interested!! happy birthday jj i love you sm 😿 again named after a yukika song, i have a pattern

IF CHENLE IS ANYTHING THESE DAYS, IT'S ANNOYED. it's already annoying enough that he's practically been worked to death this week, given no breaks by the student body or his coach, but now jaemin has decided to drag him away from his work to watch some stupid match between people he doesn't know. now, chenle isn't the kind of person who likes working on friday evenings, but this friday is different, because he genuinely has so much to do and has no time for distractions of any sort. just the sight of jaemin barging into his dorm was enough to make him and sigh and roll his eyes. it wasn't just that, but it was also his insistent begging for chenle to accompany him to his friends little competition, a friend he doesn't even know to begin with.

chenle isn't just annoyed, he's pissed off, his head hurts and there are so many people talking around him. he's currently overwhelmed with thoughts because he has an assignment to turn in soon and because he's standing here looking after jaemin's stuff, even more pissed because jaemin said he'd only be gone a few minutes.

it's been ten minutes, and jaemin is nowhere to be seen.

the moment jaemin appears, chenle swears he's going to punch him in the face. he crosses his arms and lets out his fifth exasperated sigh of the entire hour, a displeased look makes itself apparent in his eyes, what even is this anyway? some dumb fencing competition? chenle doesn't care about this, or about jaemin's friend that he hasn't met yet. at this point, chenle doesn't even want to meet this friend, he's frustrated.

and yeah, maybe it's stupid of him to be dumping all of his frustrations on this friend he hasn't met yet, but he's sleep deprived, and he wants a cup of coffee.

standing around and waiting for jaemin has become boring, so chenle has begun to scour his surroundings. the banners above display your usual school spirit words, all of them talking about beating the other school or something, he hears the people above him conversing about the upcoming competition, making bets on which fighter they think is gonna win.

it's enough to make chenle snicker, they're betting on this like it's a boxing match, it's just dudes fencing, it truly cannot be that serious.

"all this shit for some dumb fencing competition?"

"well, what crawled up your ass today?"

chenle startles when you seem to come out of nowhere, but his momentary fear immediately becomes annoyance once again as he notices your tone of voice. what is he getting an attitude for? chenle doesn't like you already.

"nothing, where the hell did you even come from?"

chenle looks you up and down, taking in your features. you have bewitching eyes, they're a beautiful shade of light brown, your tall, much taller than chenle, your hair falls prettily around your face, a pretty butterfly necklace adorns your neck (chenle has no idea why he's staring there), and your wearing a varsity jacket, the letters NCT U printed on the side.

ah, so he's an athlete. somehow, chenle doesn't put two and two together, or maybe he isn't exactly thinking about that, just annoyed by your audacity.

"i was just.. observing" you respond, shoving your hands into your pockets as you let a small hum leave your lips. "what's with the fencing hate? i don't think it's that bad.."

"your probably saying that because you're a fencer yourself".

a snort. "well— you caught me there".

chenle raises an eyebrow, now your tone confuses him. what is this guy getting at? he can't read you, and he doesn't really like it.

"i'm not even supposed to be here, i have work to do, but now i'm here looking after jaemin's stuff while he's doing who knows what because i agreed to come watch him support his friend!"

"well there's no need to yell.."

chenle glares at you, a certain distaste in his eyes he doesn't think he could replicate with anyone else, but you do sound kinda unreasonable, so he takes a deep breath. "yeah, sorry".

"it's alright".

there's a silence. chenle doesn't know what kind of conversation this is, he's not the kind of person to just interact with strangers like this, he usually doesn't like having conversations with strangers, but he doesn't want to stop this conversation..for some reason. you intrigue him, so he begins again.

"NCT U fencing? i didn't know our school had a fencing team.."

"maybe you just aren't around much, we are the stars of the show after all".

your words make chenle scoff, a small raise of his eyebrow accompanying it. he crosses his arms and examines your varsity jacket once more, then narrows his eyes. wow, what a high ego. "stars of the show? isn't that a little cocky of you to say?"

"cocky? tell that to my fifteen medals" you reply, and that gets an eye roll out of chenle. "and those are just college medals" you whisper, leaning closer.

chenle somehow gets frozen in his spot, not moving back, leaving the two of you with your faces almost pressed together. if he wasn't speechless right now, he would've pushed you away, but your breath fanning against his face and your sudden closeness makes him feel dizzy.

he stares, and he stares for a while. he allows for his eyes to roam your face, and they instinctively fall down to your lips, your lips which just look so tempting.

what the fuck? you don't even know the guy chenle! why are you thinking about kissing him?

"wow, you must be quite the impressive fencer, then".

his words are meant to come off as sarcastic, and he stops staring at your lips so that he can gently push you away from him, trying his best to ignore his currently reddening cheeks. "i am! i would even say so myself, not to give myself too much credit or anything.."

"well that is giving yourself too much credit" a small hum escapes your lips at his words, and you allow for yourself to be humored by his words. "what about the rest of your team?"

"your acting like i called them shitty fencers" you easily reply, glancing down at your watch and sighing as you notice the time. "i never said they don't bring anything important to the team, i'm just acknowledging how good of an asset to the team i am, and that's totally fine, nothing wrong with it".

your reasoning makes sense, but chenle doesn't this conversation to stop just yet. "that's just a level of confidence that seems a little unruly".

"there's nothing wrong with being confident" you say, and chenle allows for his shoulders to fall. he can't exactly disagree with that. "i know how good of a fencer i am, and you should be applauding me for that".

"maybe i'll applaud you when i actually see you display such skills".

you snicker at chenle's words, he hates that you look so good, he doesn't even know you, but you've managed to both annoy and sort of make him swoon in one go. "well it's your lucky day, you can cheer me on when i beat my opponent in a few minutes".

ah. chenle thinks back to the school spirit banners that are hanging from the ceiling, he thinks back to jaemin, to the stupid promise he made a good few hours ago, and now he's standing here with some overconfident fencer, some overconfident fencer he would've never met if he didn't give in to jaemin's incessant begging.

"that's nice, you really think your gonna win?"

"i don't think, i know, chenle".

chenle is about to counter your words with another remark, but pauses upon hearing his name escape your lips. how did you even know who he was? he's about to start assuming your a stalker or something. "you know my name?"

"you're apart of the student body, you play basketball, and your constantly in the top ranks , everyone knows who you are".

the words get an uncertain smile out of chenle, but he quickly lets it drop because he doesn't want to be smiling because of you. chenle doesn't care, he'll remain stubborn. "yeah, right, glad you know that".

"alright then, you can cheer me on, chenle, i'll be looking for you in the crowd".

chenle scoffs again, now he's completely done with you. "in your dreams.." he mutters, and while he intends for that to not be heard by you, you catch it anyway, but you allow for chenle to think he's in the clear, deciding to not comment on it.

"wish me luck!"

chenle watches you walk away.

he allows for the questions to immediately run through his mind, what the hell was that? why did he want to chase after you like some desperate little man? why didn't he want the conversation to end?

but then again, you are just so annoying, you're so convinced your going to win. chenle almost wants you to lose just so he could laugh in your face about it, but he also does want to watch you face off your opponent, just for entertainment.

and with no jaemin to be seen anywhere, chenle just groans and cusses at the older in his mind, he is genuinely going to punch jaemin when he sees him.

for now, he'll focus on this dumb competition (and on you, wait— no, NOT YOU! he is not focusing on you at all).

CHENLE HAS A HEADACHE THE NEXT DAY, AND HE MAKES sure to put all the blame on jaemin. what kind of friend is he? dragging him off to go see his friend's dumb competition only for him to disappear for more than half the time than proceed to only show up after the competition was almost over and scream in chenle's ear in the entire time. chenle thinks he should start getting paid for hanging out with jaemin, because he can never tell where the other male is half the time, but he's still getting dragged out to shit like this all the time. when jaemin skips his way into chenle's dorm the next morning, he's met with an immediate glare from the chinese, and he seems to have no idea why chenle is so upset with him. "woah, who pissed in your cereal?"

chenle scoffs, throwing jaemin his sweater and going to get a glass of water. "you did, i have a headache because of you".

jaemin laughs at chenle's annoyance, a taunting smile coming to his face as he makes his way towards the younger, a surge of pride in his chest. "really? what did i do?" it isn't a genuine question, and chenle can tell by the exaggerated pout which graces jaemin's features.

"you made me go to your friends stupid competition, then still decided to drag me around after the competition" chenle grits his teeth as he says those words, and all jaemin does is raise a humorous eyebrow, a small hum escapes his lips as he gets another glare from chenle. "not to mention, your friend is so annoying".

jaemin chuckles, getting a small punch in the shoulder from chenle. "oh, so you met y/n then?"

the name doesn't register in chenle's mind, he never actually got to know your name. "is that his name?" just the thought of you has chenle's stomach turning upside down, and he has no idea why. "he pisses me off, he talks too much".

"aww, he didn't make you swoon?"

"absolutely not" chenle says immediately, he is not going to admit how he felt lightheaded just by the sight of you, how you easily had his face red without having to do anything. "he's so into himself, how do you even hang around a guy like that?"

how do you not fall so in love with a guy like that?

"well he has every right to be! y/n has basically won the school all of their fencing awards, a majority of them anyway, i don't get what the hate is all about.."

chenle clears his throat. "i don't hate him, i'm just commenting on his self absorbency".

"your saying that, but you couldn't take your eyes off him the whole competition".

the accusation is enough to make chenle's cheeks go fiery red, what the fuck? he noticed? he opens his mouth to immediately deny the claim, but all he does is stutter whilst trying to clearly articulate his words. "that's not true".

"but it is! you were fangirling more than his actual fangirls! you couldn't even contain yourself!"

chenle rolls his eyes, a small scoff escaping his lips as he tries to ignore his reddening cheeks. "i was not fangirling, you're crazy".

"am i crazy? or are you just in denial?"

"your projecting onto me".

jaemin just snickers, able to see right through chenle's little denying streak. his red cheeks are a clear indication that you probably did end up flustering him, the latter is just too stubborn to admit such a thing. "uh huh, sure, keep telling yourself that chenle".

chenle scoffs, completely turning away from jaemin as he tries to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. no he wasn't fangirling over you at all, jaemin is just crazy, jaemin is just making stuff up.

at least, that's what his mind tells him.

"YOUR LATE, ZHONG CHENLE" THE WORDS get a small glare from the addressed boy. a chortle sounds from his fellow student body member, kim jungsu, who is humored at the sight of the usually stoic zhong chenle being pissed off, but then again, such a face has become a norm to the titular zhong. "woah, what happened to you?" chenle only scoffs at the question, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he ignores the question from choi beomgyu, who only raises an inquisitive eyebrow. the two older boys exchange glances, watching as chenle begins getting up to his usual things. "jaemin decided to hold me up, again" chenle grits his teeth as he thinks about the stupid shenanigans of the na, rolling his eyes.

"what did he do this time?"

"made me walk around the whole school to find something for him.." chenle mutters, pissed off. "but he kept stopping every few minutes to catch up with his old friends!"

beomgyu startles at the sound of chenle's shout paired with the slam of files onto the table. it's often these days that na jaemin seems to be annoying zhong chenle more than anything, the prospect is hilarious, though, he has to admit.

"did you guys hear? y/n got an perfect score on friday!"

the absentminded comment is one chenle so badly wants to ignore, but just the mention of you is enough to make his stomach begin stirring in a way he can't explain. it's monday, why are people still talking about your stupid friday competition? (chenle knows why people still would be talking about it, you're a very talented fencer, he can't deny that).

"did he?"

"what are you guys even expecting at this point? it's y/n, he's never lost a competition once.."

chenle stays silent as he listens to his fellow peers talk about you, your competition, your winnings, just you you you. chenle hates the way you take over his mind, he's only met you once, only talked to you once, but he can't stop thinking about you.

it's a mix of butterflies and some other unknown creature fluttering around in his stomach.

"chenle! how come you and y/n aren't friends?" beomgyu suddenly chimes in, nudging the other in the shoulder. the younger blinks, puzzled by the abrupt question. "you two would be a good.. pair".

chenle knows what he's implying with the emphasis on the word pair (pair? more like couple..), and just the look on his face is enough to give him away. he ignores the red which dusts his cheeks, something that's been happening much more regularly when chenle starts thinking of you, he hates that it does. "we just.. don't know each other like that".

"you two have talked though haven't you?"

chenle is getting bothered by these constant interrogations, he doesn't want to talk about you, because he's not sure he'll be able to keep his ground, or his face from heating up irregularly. "yeah we talked at the competition.."

"oh you went!? how was it?"

"it was uh.." chenle pauses, trying to figure out the words to describe the competition, he isn't even thinking about the competition, he's thinking about you. he can't stop thinking about you, you've been running around in his mind for the past few days. "yeah uh— what you said, y/n got a perfect score.."

chenle quickly turns away from his peers so that he doesn't have to be faced with their several questions about you, mostly because he doesn't know how many excuses he'll be able to make for his red face. he puts away the files as he listens to everyone else continue conversing about you, how known are you? chenle doesn't think he wants to know.

"that can't be tru— wait y/n! come here!"

chenle's heart drops at just the mention of you, and he hears a confused "what?" escape your lips accompanied by the sound of footsteps. he curses in his mind, how is he supposed to avoid you now?

"what's up?"

chenle turns around as he tries to not look at you, but unfortunately, his eyes have other ideas. they drift off to you immediately, and once he looks at you, he can't look away. you look so casual, but you seem to glow. everyone else in the room has basically become nothing, and only you matter. chenle reprimands himself in his head for having such thoughts, he shouldn't be thinking about you so much, especially with you currently in the room. so, he clears his throat and takes his eyes off you.

"beomgyu said—"

"i didn't say anything! don't put the blame on me! dongyun back me up here!"

chenle blinks as he watches his friends dissolve into a full blown argument, with you standing there awkwardly having no idea what was going on. he is quick to tune out the argument, as he's done several times in the past.

but you don't seem to care about the argument transpiring in front of you, seeing as how you slip away from the shouting guys and go over to chenle. "do they always do that?"

chenle can't ignore you now, so he takes in a sigh and looks over at you, his legs immediately feeling like jelly as he locks eyes with you.

you're beautiful, just as beautiful as you were the first time chenle met you and became absorbed in you as a whole. chenle wants to fall over, but he stands his ground, he remains stubborn, he doesn't want to give you that satisfaction.

finally, after what seems like forever, chenle finds his voice, it took him pathetically long to though. "yeah, they argue about stupid shit all the time, don't worry about them".

you snicker, eyeing the student council members who are continuing to go at each other's necks. choi taeyang rubs his temples, completely irritated by this idiotic argument.

you aren't focusing on that, though, because your eyes immediately go back onto chenle. "we never truly established our relationship.. are we friends?"

chenle finds the words baffling. did you really just ask him that? he scrunches his nose, but he can't exactly tell how he feels about the whole thing. "are you really asking me this now?"

you hum, fiddling with your sweater collar. "well, jaemin told me i should try getting on your good side, apparently we need to get to know each other".

"of course he said that".

chenle grits his teeth, but his irritation is feigned, because you snort and look away, your smile this bright, blinding spectacle that chenle could admire for ages. "if you don't want to it's fine" you say, smile unable to be erased.

"i didn't say that" chenle quickly rebuts, much too eager to make that fact known to you. "we can be friends i just.. don't be as annoying as you are".

you gasp, offended. "you think i'm annoying?"

"your just jaemin's copy and paste really".

"is that supposed to be insulting? i happen to like jaemin".

"well that's obvious".

you scoff, crossing your arms. chenle has to stifle his giggles, because watching you look so defeated is just a little bit amusing to him. he can't help his smile, why the fuck do you look cute right now?

"you're so rude, i like you though".

chenle blinks. well he was not expecting that. maybe he doesn't have you all figured out like he thinks, you're unpredictable, how aggravating. he feels his jaw clench as he stares you down. "is that how you always make friends?"

"no.. you keep avoiding the term, though".

"you keep questioning me".

"i just want to get to know you".

"you can do that when we aren't in the student body room".

you roll your eyes, but it's not serious, because nothing is ever serious with you. "okay then, i'll see you some other time, zhong".

you give chenle one last smile before muttering something intelligible to beomgyu, which draws an incredulous gasp from him. you bid your goodbyes to the rest of the student council before once again smiling and making your way out of the door. "he's so dreamy isn't he?"

taeyang snorts, shaking his head. "totally, but i think he liked chenle best".

chenle's face goes bright red the moment he's put on the spot, and jungsu's little giggles meet his ears. "you— he was just being stupid.."

"ohhh, i see".

"wait, chenle and y/n have thing?"

"we do not!" chenle immediately shouts, but as his voice elevates, his cheeks continue to flare. he isn't convincing enough, seeing as how taeyang snickers at the way he heats up embarrassingly. "we do not have a thing! he's just.. annoying".

"so you don't want to fuck him?"

"no!"

but unfortunately, zhong chenle isn't spared from the teasing of his student body members.

"CAN I ASK YOU A STUPID QUESTION?" IT WOULD BE annoying if not completely a norm by now. good god jisung is lucky he's jisung, chenle can't count how many times he's wanted to just clock him square in the face. maybe he's saved from such a fate, but yangyang surely isn't, and chenle is just gearing up the punch as he hears the liu begin snickering. if kun didn't nag so much he probably would've followed the whispering thoughts that told him to shut yangyang up with his fists, but keeping his composure is important. chenle clicks his tongue, tugging at his sweater and rolling his eyes at jisung's subsequent muttering. "okay but don't be mad!" chenle immediately snaps his head towards the younger, and jisung halts in his movements, yangyang's growing laughter is definitely not helping. "you're already mad!"

"i'm not, idiot" chenle grits his teeth, but he relaxes his shoulder and takes a deep breath. "just ask".

"what the hell is going on with you and y/n?"

chenle immediately scrunches his nose, pausing. now how would jisung know about anything that happened between you two? not that anything did happen between you two! it's just strange how chenle meets you on one friday, has like three interactions with you, and suddenly everyone thinks that he has a crush on you or something.

he doesn't! he really doesn't! why isn't anybody convinced?

"nothing! oh my god why is everyone asking me this?"

yangyang snorts, great, now he's going to add his two cents to the mix. "you look at the guy like he solved all of your problems, you sure you don't even want to kiss him?"

chenle scoffs, quickly flipping off yangyang and rolling his eyes. "no, yangyang i don't want to kiss y/n, and i don't stare at him like.. that, who even implied that to you jisung?"

jisung is just the slightest bit terrified of chenle, seeing as how his facial muscles strain to try and fit a smile. "jaemin hyung.."

"and you know heeseung gossips about everything! he's about to put it on the school paper!"

"lee heeseung isn't apart of the school paper, he runs a barely functional gossip blog".

"gossip gets around quickly".

"you guys are acting like i got caught kissing the guy! i'm not in love with him or anything!"

jisung clearly doesn't believe that, and of course yangyang doesn't believe that, seeing as how he doubles over in laughter at chenle's statement of denial. chenle glares, yangyang isn't as funny as he thinks he is. "it's not funny".

"it really is, your cheeks are so red, how are you not in love with him?"

"i'm just not, how do you guys not believe me?"

"it's a bit obvious".

"your terrible at lying".

chenle gasps, dropping his arms at his sides. gosh, even when he is telling the truth everyone thinks he's lying.

and no he's not secretly lying! he is telling the truth! he has absolutely no feelings for you at all!

"i'm not lying".

"well you can go prove yourself then, your boyfriend is right there".

when chenle snaps his head in the direction jisung pointed, he stills, because there you are. his cheeks flare up at the nickname yangyang gave you, the words he's not my boyfriend rest on the tip of his tongue, but they get stuck in his throat when his eyes land on you.

are you fucking everywhere now? chenle talks to you one time and now you suddenly appear every single time he tries to convince himself that he doesn't harbor any romantic feelings towards you. you have to be some kind of psychic, you're probably reading chenle's mind, just ready to show up when he suddenly gets stuck in denial.

"see? your doing that weird love like stare" the whisper gets him out of his daze, his eyes of admiration quickly becoming eyes of hatred fully directed towards his fellow teammate.

"i am not".

jisung blinks, contemplating his words because of the way chenle glares, so his mouth falls shut. "there's nothing going on there, you guys are just stupid".

for the first time ever, yangyang and jisung do something in unison, snicker. "okay chenle, i'll totally believe that".

you laugh in the far distance, the harmony is beautiful, and chenle has to use all of the self control in his body to not turn his head in your direction. he can already imagine your smile, and he has to fight his own smile, chenle can admit that you're annoying, but he can also admit that you have a very pretty smile.

"your lover boy is over there".

you pause, still giggling behind your hand as you glance over at kim minjeong. "who?" you inquire, wincing at her hard pinch to your shoulder. when you turn your head, you grin at the person you see. "i can't exactly figure out why you say that".

"you seem a little obsessed".

you laugh. a huge, polyphonic laugh that would make the words you're hearing seem like absolute nonsense. "obsessed? i like the guy a normal amount".

"woah.. like?"

"platonic feelings do exist ms. kim" you rebut, arms crossing over your chest as you listen to the mutters of your fellow students. "and besides, he doesn't seem to like me much".

"he looks like he's even in love with you".

"you don't even know what love is, jiung".

if you're being completely honest, you have no idea why you're going to extreme lengths to defend yourself like this. zhong chenle is cute, easily aggravated, your actions piss him off insanely quickly, you can see why people would think you feel something for him, you enjoy admiring his face way too much, you zone out on his features way too much, others might get the wrong idea. "fuck you, anyway, there is no way he isn't in love with you".

"in love? are we in a romcom?"

jiung scoffs, and minjeong pinches the bridge of her nose. "are you stupid or do you just not want to admit it?"

"admit what?"

your feigned innocence gets a groan of unison out of your friends.

and maybe a certain zhong is just admiring you from afar..

IT'S NOT USUAL FOR ZHONG CHENLE TO WAKE UP EARLY, and six am is really a stretch he can't believe ended up happening. after minutes of tossing and turning, he screamed into his pillow and rose from his bed to begin his day. classes start in two hours, but he's not going to be able to get back to sleep. he makes sure he doesn't wake daegal, grabs a basketball, and leaves his dorm to make his way to the school gym. it's something he usually does when he finds himself sleepless, playing basketball can get his mind off of literally anything, so whenever he wakes up in the early hours of the morning and can't get back to sleep, he simply makes his way to the school gym to entertain himself for a few hours. it's usually always empty too, so he doesn't have to worry about being interrupted while he's cranky in the morning.

he hums to himself as he dribbles the ball down the hallway, basking in the silence of the air. sometimes people are too much, he can enjoy being alone on most occasions.

the cool air of the gym hits his face as he continues his dribbling, taking a shot and having it land perfectly in the basket. he whistles, proud, but not surprised. it isn't surprising how good he is anymore.

"nice shot".

the moment chenle hears the voice, he has to bite back his groan. you snicker at the expression you see blossom on his features, and chenle turns towards you, lips pressed together. "nice to know you're so happy to see me".

"it's beginning to get ridiculous how you are everywhere" chenle is quick to bite back, and you shake your head, a laugh threatening to escape your lips.

chenle can't even help his smile. oh fuck you. you're evil. you're the evilest being chenle has ever had to share a space with.

he doesn't want you to leave, though.

"are you saying i'm doing this on purpose?"

"exactly what i think" you laugh, fingers picking at the fabrics of your sweater, and chenle finds himself frowning.

"what are you doing up so early?" he inquires, cutting off your response with a question.

you feign thought, rolling your eyes. "i usually wake up early to stretch, maybe get in some practice, it's sort of like a built in alarm clock".

"you wake up at six in the morning every day?"

"it's torture" you reply, eyes glancing around the practically empty space you two stand in. "but i've gotten used to it, coach is always on my ass about it.."

"ohhh because your his star player?"

there's a hint of sarcasm in that question, and your brows furrow as you watch chenle distracts himself with his basketball. "he's just constantly like that".

"okay, so you aren't doing this on purpose?"

"even if i was, is there anything wrong with me wanting to see you?"

chenle pauses, blinking as he lets the words slowly settle into his brain. if he had absolutely no self control, he would've giggled out loud right in the very moment. why are you so.. you? it's absolutely ridiculous, actually, why do you say things like this? do you have no regard for chenle's heart? you have to know what you're saying.

"what? like you have a crush on me or something?"

"seems you want for that to be the case".

chenle opens his mouth to respond, but it closes the moment he sees your smile. he grits his teeth, it's sickening how easily he's about to fall. who allowed for you to have such a pretty smile? he finds himself grateful to even be witnessing such a thing.

he finds himself flustered at how speechless he is, and he sighs, ignoring his heated cheeks. "you and your weird fantasies".

"whatever you say zhong".

chenle groans, quickly wanting to change the topic. "you wanna play?"

you chuckle at the question, shaking your head almost immediately. "oh no i'm not good at basketball".

"it's not that hard, just dribble and shoot".

you seem to find that idea ridiculous, because you laugh again. "you're definitely going to kick my ass".

"maybe i want to do that" chenle smiles, and you narrow your eyes.

"okay, i see the game your playing".

chenle laughs, and you frown at the corresponding sound. "come on, just once? i'll return the favor, i'll fence with you!"

you seem puzzled by that one. "..do you want to?"

"it can't be that hard".

you bite back another laugh. "you know how to be convincing".

chenle raises an eyebrow. "is that a yes?"

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "fine yes, whatever".

"don't 'whatever' me".

you can barely resist your smile as you watch a hint of irritation settle in his eyes. "come on, let's play".

and maybe chenle smiles a little too wide at that, because he can't stop admiring your smile.

CHENLE TAPS HIS PEN AGAINST THE DESK, LISTENING TO the murmurs of the rest of the student body. it's easy to be quiet when in a room full of noisy, immature men. he barely even remembers where most of their conversations go, it's become much too easy to tune them out. beomgyu must have said something insane, because taeyang is giving him that incredulous glare he can only share with someone like beomgyu. god chenle misses hanbin, he's the only person who can contain such idiots (which is amusing, because all he has to do is clap and they all go silent). "who even agreed to that? did mr. jeong tell you anything?" chenle just barely fights his groan, of course they're arguing about this again. maybe he should just get up and scream, then they would all shut the fuck up.

"i already told you! nayeon said—"

"i didn't ask about nayeon, did i?"

beomgyu sucks his teeth, throwing his hands in the air. "see? this is why no one likes talking to you!"

"i'm just stating the obvious".

"you two have been at it for hours! please just let it go".

honda hitomi leans against her hand, just barely able to fight her own exhaustion. she's about to collapse onto the floor and not get up, but she keeps herself awake for the sake of her own sanity. "what did mr. jeong say about the end of the year fair we planned?"

chenle sighs. "he has not gotten back to me on that one".

"good god it's never going to happen at this point! can i just take down the posters?"

"don't lose hope so quickly!"

"at this rate hope no longer exists! we have to wait weeks for a response from the principal himself! aren't we supposed to be hosting all the cool student events?"

"yeah that's what we have chenle for".

chenle ignores the giggles that reply to those words, much too tired to even care anymore. "i need to make sure donghyuck doesn't traumatize daegal.. you guys have a good day" he grabs his stuff and scrunches his nose, almost unable to stand on his legs considering how long he'd been sat.

"why would you let donghyuck babysit daegal?"

"he's broke so i'm practically forcing him to" chenle swings his bag over his shoulder, smiling at the snickers he receives from his members. "i'll see you all tomorrow, and if any of you see hanbin tell him he better come up with a good excuse for being missing".

it's a threat that again has beomgyu throwing his arms up in the air, even if it wasn't directed towards him specifically. "will do boss!"

"don't call me that" chenle just barely misses the incoming whine choi beomgyu lets out when he finishes the response.

and then chenle exits the student body room, his shoulder slumping accompanied by a silent sigh. he just wants to get home without any distractions, no yelling, no stupid jokes that lead nowhere, no one to imply something idiotic that will make his eye twitch—

"chenle! hey!"

well of course that can't happen.

zhong chenle's life will never be peaceful, and that disturbance comes in the form of na jaemin, running towards him with that abhorrent smile on his face. chenle is already praying in his head, because he knows jaemin is just going to try something insane again. "amazing to see you jaemin".

the guy isn't even breathless, which chenle finds amusing considering he was totally bolting the whole way here. "did you hear?"

"what?"

jaemin looks disappointed, and he crosses his arms. "you didn't read the blog post? pretty much everyone has already".

chenle blinks, no longer interested in pretending to humor whatever it is jaemin is going to show him. "everyone?"

"mostly everyone, don't be surprised if gyu yells in your ears about it soon".

chenle scrunches his nose. sensing his complete obliviousness, jaemin sighs and pulls out his phone, giggling before even turning it on. "you and y/n are the school's couple of the month".

chenle's eye twitches.

"excuse me?"

jaemin nudges him, showing him the phone. chenle doesn't even have to read anything, all he has to do is look at the title.

[THE SCHOOLS FENCING STAR & SHOOTING GUARD ARE IN LOVE: BUT WE ALL KINDA KNEW THAT ALREADY..]

chenle sighs, of course lee heeseung wrote it. he rolls his eyes, massaging his temples. "tell me you don't believe this.."

jaemin giggles, turning his phone off. he laughs for a while, but pauses when he realizes chenle isn't laughing with him. "wait.. you two aren't dating?"

"no jaemin, we aren't".

the information flabbergasts him. "what do you mean you aren't!? i thought you two were doing like the secret thing.. the whole yeah were dating but like not publicly thing!"

chenle simply shrugs, turning on his heel and continuing his walk towards the exit. jaemin almost trips on his feet, following closely behind him. "how many times do i have to tell people this? there is nothing going on between y/n and i!"

"so then what were you two doing in the gym?"

chenle stops, glancing behind him to catch a look at jaemin's face. he narrows his eyes, scratching the fabric of his sweater. "talking, jaemin, like you usually do with people".

"six in the morning and you two are just talking?"

"you take everything out of proportion, i'm not sure you know what 'dating' looks like".

"well i know y/n, though, and i know his expressions, he stares at you with so much love it's sick!"

chenle can't even muster another eye roll, he simply keeps quiet at the words, turning around to look forward. "whatever.."

he stares down at the floor, not allowing for the words to get to his head. if he does than he'll begin thinking about you, and if he envisions your smile he won't be able to bite back his own.

IT'S FUNNY HOW QUICK GOSSIP CAN SPREAD, BECAUSE ALL chenle's been presented with in these past few weeks are rumors and mindless gossip. what kind of grip does lee heeseung have on everyone? how does his wannabe gossip blog really do all of this damage? he can't even begin speaking without someone asking if he's dating you. is this what being your boyfriend would be like? suddenly everyone is invested in his business and he can't even live in peace because everyone assumes you two are dating. he's let out enough sighs these past few weeks, he's beginning to get tired of everyone's constant muttering, he can't even talk without annoying himself, and he hasn't had an actual conversation with you in a good two weeks, which was totally unintentional at first, but it slowly became more.. voluntary.

you two don't talk much, simply give glances to each other in hallways. it's not that chenle is avoiding you! it's just that chenle is definitely avoiding you.

he just sort of needs space, for an unchecked amount of time.

you almost completely consume his mind, and because everyone thinks you two are dating, it's hard to not think about you. maybe it was difficult to get you out of his head before, but it is insanely difficult now. he doesn't escape jaemin's snickers, whispers, or even just mentions of your name, you're practically haunting him.

looking at your face ensures that chenle will probably collapse onto the floor.

so chenle's avoiding you for the peace of his mind. he makes excuses for why he doesn't want to see you every time, a tight lipped smile on his face whenever someone brings you up.

and of course, because of his avoidance, even more rumors swirl. something about you two getting into a random fight, a lovers quarrel the audience are calling it. how annoying.

but he can't avoid you forever, because you literally know everyone, including the people in his close knit friend group. so what is chenle supposed to say? it gets harder to come up with excuses for not wanting to be in the same room as you. jaemin keeps sending him weird looks, asking questions with his eyes, but chenle simply walks away.

you seem to want to talk to him, but you also seem to sense that he needs his space, because you don't just suddenly ambush him to ask why he's suddenly avoiding you like the plague (even if you do really want to).

and chenle keeps that track record pretty solid for a while, he dodges all of the questions, stares, you, it almost becomes easy after a while.

but it doesn't stay the same, because of course it doesn't, you always just.. appear.

"you sure you can make it? we don't wanna bother you if you can't".

mark is always so considerate, chenle doesn't know the last time he met a guy so nice. "yeah, yeah i'll be fine! just text me the time and i will be there".

"on time?"

chenle snaps his head towards donghyuck, glaring. the older simply giggles as the younger flips him off, and he scoffs. "yes on time donghyuck, fuck you".

"see you lele!"

chenle scrunches his nose at the nickname, he would flip donghyuck off again if not for wanting to keep his sanity in tact. he has to have some kind of limit, and when he hears yet another giggle spill from donghyuck's lips, he wishes he had acted on his intrusive thoughts.

chenle has a few hours considering they always like going out late (and they wonder why their always tired in the morning), he can binge all of how i met your mother for the seventieth time, and he can keep daegal company enough that she'll tire herself out.

chenle's hands stay shoved in his pockets, it isn't even that cold, he just has an emotional attachment to this sweater.

but then chenle stops, because he just walked the complete opposite direction of where he was supposed to go. he blinks, mentally cursing at himself.

"what an idiot you are zhong chenle".

"well that's rude to say to yourself".

chenle jumps, but he can't be startled for long, because it's you. after avoiding you for almost two weeks (seriously he was so close!), you had successfully cornered him.

well 'cornered' may not be the right term to use in the context, you smile, as if pleased to see him. "feels like i haven't been here in years.."

you glance around, feigning interest in your surroundings. chenle bites into his inner cheek, suddenly feeling the air become awkward. "did i do something wrong?" you inquire, seeming completely.. normal.

"no" chenle almost whispers, turning around as to not stare at you. he begins walking the right way this time, unconsciously inviting you to follow him, which you clearly sense with how you straighten up and begin walking beside him. "it's not you".

"so you're avoiding me for what reason?"

chenle shrugs, silence overtaking the air between you two. he listens to the small mutters of others as you two walk together, he can ignore it easily considering you're right beside him now, maybe it's because you overtake all of his thoughts. "i don't know.. everyone thinks were dating, it feels kind of weird".

"well i guessed that was the case".

chenle again goes silent, you are much calmer about this than he would've expected. it's just something he isn't used to seeing from you, he knows if he was getting avoided so clearly he probably would've blown up on the person, but that's just him. "aren't you mad?"

"not really, i can see where your coming from".

chenle hums, the air again becoming awkward. "i'm sorry" you don't look at him as he apologizes, but you smile anyway.

"it's alright, we technically aren't.. friends so i'm really not that offended".

chenle pauses, well he totally forgot that one. he's the one who said it himself. oh he is such a fucking idiot, but you don't say it to offend him, you simply state it as a fact. "still, i probably would've blown up on you if it was the other way around".

"oh trust me, other people have done way worse, a little ghosting is nothing".

that finally gets a smile out of chenle, and you seemed to miss that smile, because you mirror his expression. "i didn't mean to worry you, none of it is your fault".

"i wouldn't say i was worried, i was just confused, but you have your reasons".

chenle sighs, stopping as you hold the door for him. so you're basically just walking him back to his dorm now, no words even having to be exchanged. that's funny. he doesn't put all of his focus on that, though, you're directly in front of him right now, he should put all of his focus on that.

"so were good, right? no bad blood?"

chenle glances over at you. "there never was any bad blood, i just got into my own head".

"that's good, you still have to make good on that promise of fencing me".

chenle raises an eyebrow, suddenly feeling his cheeks dust red. "fencing and basketball are vastly different".

"obviously, but you kicked my ass so i should get to kick yours".

"it was a pretty close game, ten to six".

"my point still stands".

chenle hums, just barely biting back his laugh. "okay fine, we'll fence, just go easy on me".

"aww, but then it won't be fun!"

chenle childishly sticks his tongue out at you, immediately met with an offended stare. still, you laugh, giggle even. chenle finds it funny how easily he can make you laugh.

"either that or we won't".

"fine then".

your smile indicates to chenle that you definitely don't plan on completely fulfilling that.

you raise your hands up in mock surrender, and chenle simply shakes his head, completely done with you. he stops in front of his door, rummaging through his pockets looking for his keys.

"thanks for walking me" he says, quite literally unable to shake off the weird feeling in his stomach. "even though you kind of just followed me here.."

"we were talking, i didn't know how to just leave".

i didn't want for you to leave anyway.

but chenle doesn't say that one, simply smiles again. "it's fine, thank you again".

"so what are we exactly?"

chenle blinks, just about to open his door when you ask that question. he thinks about it, thoughts chugging like a train.

"mortal enemies".

you snicker, looking down at the floor. "oh".

chenle hums, hand resting on his doorknob. "yeah, have a good day y/n".

"you too chenle".

CHENLE DIDN'T UNDERESTIMATE YOU WHEN HE CHALLENGED you to a fencing match. you've been a fencer as long as you could stand on your two feet, you mentioned in passing once that you'd been fencing since elementary school, introduced to the sport by your father. chenle doesn't know anything about fencing, he's watched one competition and can barely recollect the memories of what went on because it was at that competition that he met you. it's hard to focus on anything when your around, especially the match he literally challenged you to. he wasn't exactly thinking when he brought it up, just really wanting for you to play basketball with him. he stumbles back, tripping on his own feet and falling back onto the floor.

"wow i suck at this" chenle mutters, back resting against the mat on the ground.

your distinct chuckle meets his ears, and chenle lets out a sigh. "well i didn't say it.."

"oh fuck you, your the fencing expert".

"that's what you get when you compete with an actual fencer" you respond, chenle rests the épée beside his laying figure. "you didn't go down without a fight though, four points!"

"four points to twelve points, you think that's a worthy competition?"

"it's impressive for someone whose fencing for the first time ever right now" you remove your fencing mask properly, getting a good look at him on the floor. "i'm sure you could take jiung in a match".

"oh don't mention your teammates, i can't handle any of this, how do you do it?"

you whistle, dropping the épée onto the floor and extending your hand towards chenle. he takes it, feeling a pain spike as he stands on his two legs. "you liar, you said you were gonna go easy".

you simply smile, feigned innocence behind that wretched sight ('wretched' is the wrong word to describe it, chenle absolutely loves your smile).

"that was me going easy" you reply, squeezing his hand against yours.

that's when chenle is brought back to reality. holy shit you two are holding hands. he stares at the spectacle, blinking dumbly as you again snicker at your own words. he pulls his hand away quickly, ignoring the excessive heat of his face.

"oh then i really suck".

"your better than most people".

chenle hums, being better than most people doesn't really mean anything when going against you. "stop frowning, you did well".

chenle is definitely not frowning, he's not! how would you even know that? "well doesn't mean much in these books".

you shake your head, and chenle doesn't frown (but his lips turn downward). he picks the épée up from the floor, twirling it around. "can't just say i'm not good at this?"

"the reason you aren't good at this is because of your handiwork" you quickly respond, stepping closer to him and wrapping your fingers around chenle's wrist. "you have to angle your hand at ninety degrees, it has to be parallel to your foot.."

chenle blinks as you begin explaining the ways for him to improve his fencing. your rambling, very interested in actually helping him instead of just beating him at your own game again. chenle is quite literally on the verge of a heart attack, everything you're saying has blurred into the background as you get closer, the heat in the room steadily rising.

you continue talking, angling chenle's arm forward and pointing the sword straight. chenle cannot focus on what you're saying because you are so.. beautiful? you look so good in this lighting, it has to be criminal. you unconsciously get up in his personal space and chenle's breath hitches, but you don't notice.

"—and when you lunge your other hand should go down to balance your body weight" you mutter, smile on your face as you glance at chenle, who looks midway through a disassociating scene.

"hey, are you even listening to anything i'm saying?" you nudge chenle with your shoulder. chenle snaps out of his little episode and blinks, leaning away from you as he sees how close you are.

"oh.. uh— well".

you sigh, letting go of chenle's wrist and watching it lean down in just the slightest. "nuh uh, keep it up, ninety degrees".

chenle scoffs, but you raise an eyebrow, and he pauses. who knew you could be like that? chenle is just a little afraid seeing you serious. "you really don't have to help me".

"it's out of courtesy".

chenle narrows his eyes, and you whistle again, removing the fencing gear your wearing. "you aren't going against me again are you?"

"absolutely not" chenle shakes his head, another heavy breath leaving his lips. "you're brutal, i can't keep up".

"i'm sure you could".

"you have too much faith in me".

you hum, slipping your sweater back on and shoving your hands into your pockets. chenle again sighs, walking past you. "you could've at least tried to get eight points on me".

"the only way i'd get eight points on you is if you gave them to me" chenle replies, and you hold the door open for him again, watching as he narrows his eyes at you. "and you'd never let me".

"it's good to be competitive".

"at least you said something true".

you two must have a thing for unconsciously walking together now, much too distracted in conversation to even catch the looks your being given.

"i see you guys have made up!"

you pause, smiling at the sight of your longtime friend, and chenle sighs at the sight of jaemin. "why are you so sad?"

"jaemin brings chaos into my life".

jaemin scrunches his nose, offended. "don't be so quick to say that, i brought y/n into your life!"

"exactly".

now it's your turn to be offended, a gasp drawing from you. "wow i see how it is, chenle, maybe you should just go back to ignoring me then".

"you're so petty".

"oh and you aren't? that is completely unfair!"

jaemin glances between the two of you as you begin your mini argument, the bickering between you two surprisingly entertaining him.

what an interesting lovers quarrel.

"DON'T BE BORING! LET'S GO TO JINYOUNG'S PARTY!" JAEMIN shouted in his ear as he saw chenle trying his best to drift off to sleep. the younger was very much not on board, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to rest, maybe have a romantic dream about you or whatever. it's not like he had a load of work dumped on him tonight, he just didn't want to go out on his fine evening, and he also doesn't know jinyoung that well. he's not the extent of social butterfly jaemin is, he's sort of afraid of being that awkward friend who just follows his much more known friend around. he just knows jaemin is going to ditch him the moment he finds a cute guy to make out with, and that isn't his ideal kind of night. it didn't matter what he said though, jaemin had somehow convinced him to not sleep in his bed all night.

"this room reeks of drunk breath".

"don't be boring, chenle!" that must be jaemin's only response, because he smiles when chenle frowns. "have some fun" he pushes at his shoulder, but chenle simply sighs.

"i can't wake up with a hangover tomorrow.."

"just a little?"

jaemin puts his best puppy dog eyes on display, pouting with his hands clasped together. chenle immediately leans back against the wall, put off by whatever.. this is. he points, pressing his index finger against jaemin's chest. "if you get wasted i'm leaving you".

"that isn't a threat".

yeah, it really isn't, jeno is jaemin's ride or die, he'd carry the guy up the stairs while he was hanging off his shoulder for pete's sake.

so when jaemin does eventually get wasted, chenle isn't even that surprised when jeno shows up to follow him around and make sure he doesn't kill himself.

jinyoung is nice, a little erratic, chenle finds it amusing how easily he gets offended at heeseung's jokes. he almost socked the guy in the face, but then they looked at each other and began laughing loudly about it, they're much too gone to even realize they're being stupid.

chenle could barely take one sip of those drinks without grimacing, he can't even get tipsy, he might fall over from the taste alone, he isn't going to risk it.

he can't stand being alone for long, though, because he finds himself at beomgyu's side, listening to the choi talk his ear off. he doesn't know many of beomgyu's friends, he's met taehyun once, courtesy of jisung surprisingly, but the other guys are practically ghosts to him. one of them really likes bread though, he's never seen a guy so passionate about wheat.

"i can't believe you think strawberry ice cream is good! it's terrible!"

"it's not! you're a pussy! no wonder you can't eat fruit!"

maybe beomgyu and this bread obsessed guy have arguments like this often, because the words sound so practiced chenle assumes they must rehearse this argument for every time they drink. beomgyu huffs, crossing his arms, and he snaps his head over to chenle. "tell soobin he's wrong".

"is that his name?" when he asks that, soobin waves from behind beomgyu, a wide smile displayed on his face. "i have no say here".

beomgyu pouts. "even outside of school you're boring".

"you're arguing about strawberries!"

and just when chenle is about to join the argument about the ethics of strawberry ice cream, he hears something.

"boo!"

chenle almost jumps out of his seat, startled by the sudden sound. he grits his teeth once he's met with your smiling face, and you giggle, your breath reeking of the disgusting alcohol. "oh hello you".

"hiiiiii did you miss me?" you ask, hands clasped together as you try your best to sit, tripping on your feet. you hiccup; "cause i definitely missed you—" a poke to his cheek, another giggle leaves your lips. "—i can't believe you're reeeeal" your words slur and syllables stick together, you clearly aren't in the right mind at the current moment.

you lean half your body weight against chenle, laughing at something you say in your own head (at least that's what chenle assumes is happening, you're simply laughing for no reason). "did you miss me too?"

you jut out your bottom lip, chenle has to turn his head to stare at you. your cheeks are flushed, eyes are wide, and you have a permanent smile on your face. "it's debatable".

"you take that back!"

chenle can just barely stifle his laugh, you're absolutely ridiculous. you pout again, brain fuzzy. "don't laugh at me.."

"how much have you had to drink?" chenle asks, a finger in your hair. the strands are soft, just like he predicted.

"uhhh nothing really like um.. uh— four?" you hold up four fingers, then burst into laughter at the sight of your own hand.

oh. so you're that drunk, you giggle again, a snort following that sound. your head rests onto chenle's shoulders, and you shake as you giggle.

"four drinks? already".

you hiccup again. "jinyoung said.. um, i actually forgot what he said, but he promised me something! i like promises!"

you snap your fingers, leaning back in your seat and almost falling backwards in the process.

chenle watches, listening to the continuous drunk chatter of beomgyu and soobin. he then sighs, tired. "y/n, come on".

you crack open one eye. "whaaaaat? you don't wanna dance?"

"i think you've had enough, let's not dance right now".

"but we have to" your lips turn downward into a frown, visible sadness in your eyes.

"we can dance at another time".

"oh really?" your eyes shine, as if you're already awaiting the moment you two will dance.

"yeah, let me take you home before you end up passing out on the floor".

chenle wraps an arm around your waist, and you wrap an arm around his, but he's basically carrying you around.

"jaem" chenle calls out, grunting as he lifts you from your place. when jaemin turns around, he looks fine, not like what chenle expected. he's met with an immediate eyebrow raise, as expected of jaemin. "i'm taking y/n home.."

"youuu just wanna see my bedroom" you slur, poking chenle again as you practically fall onto him, no longer controlling any of your movements. "hiiiii jaemin!"

"okay, i see" jaemin looks you two up down, and you're still waving while he judges you. "have fun".

"don't start".

at the sight of chenle's piercing glare, jaemin puts his hands up in surrender. "okay, make sure he doesn't die".

"he might end up killing himself anyway.." chenle mutters under his breath, again lifting you up as he sighs.

"byeeeee jaemin! i love you!"

chenle scrunches his nose, and you continue to wave even when jaemin disappears from view. you lean onto him again, noticing his silence. "don't be mad, i love you too".

he glances. "not mad".

you giggle again, wasted beyond words. "no need to lie to me, you're so obvious".

chenle's cheeks flare up at that. alright you fucking psychic.

WHEN YOU TWO MAKE IT BACK TO YOUR DORM, you collapse onto your couch, bringing your knees to your chest. you weren't as talkative on the way back as chenle thought you would be, the moment you two left jinyoung's door, you simply went silent, the many drinks probably went to your head, you must be exhausted, and for the first time in forever, you two don't really bicker. you simply walk along with him in silence, so there are no words exchanged between you two. when you collapse onto your couch, chenle can just barely keep in his laugh. you let out a heavy breath, groaning. "i hate parties.." you mutter against your cushion, scratching at the fabric of the cushion. chenle turns to stare at you, and you let out a groan of pain(?).

"no you don't".

"no i don't".

you stretch your limbs, then hug your knees against your chest. "chenle?" you call out, eyes closed, and arms circled around yourself.

your voice is barely audible, he doesn't think he's heard you be so silent ever. he hums as his response, and you take in a deep breath before asking yet another question. "can you get me a blanket from my room? it's always cold in here.."

chenle nods even though you can't see. "okay, and which door is yours?" he's afraid of accidentally walking into the wrong room, he's heard your roommate isn't exactly the easiest to get on good terms with.

"the one at the far end of the hall" you stretch the final letter of the word 'hall', your sighs endless.

chenle mutters a small response and turns on his heel to make his way towards your room. he hears you let out another sigh, your fatigue following closely behind him as he opens the door.

when he does enter, instead of immediately doing what you asked, he allows for himself to get engrossed in the scenery of your room. the posters which litter the walls, your many fencing awards, medals, trophies, certificates. the photos on your shelves containing some familiar faces, there's one with you and jaemin that chenle can only assume was from way before university.

oh, so they do go that far back.

your room is adorable, it isn't exactly big, but you mastered how to make due with the space you were given. he glances at your bed, and he grabs a good enough blanket, heading back to the living room.

"you're a blessing zhong chenle" you say when he lays the blanket over you, watching as you let your body relax.

chenle stares, simply watching the way you shuffle against your couch. "it's really no problem, sleep well".

"what?"

chenle snaps his head towards you. "sleep well y/n, i'm leaving".

"you can't leave!" you open your eyes, staring at him incredulously. "what happens if i get attacked while you're gone!?"

chenle deadpans, you cannot be serious right now. "you're not getting attacked while i'm gone, y/n, that makes no sense".

you cross your arms, clearly not as completely sober as chenle thought you were. "i need for someone to stick by me, just until wonjin comes back!"

wonjin. oh, that must be your roommate. "and when is he gonna come back exactly?"

"i don't know" you put your own hand on your forehead, wincing at the heat that you feel. "he's a wild card.. kind of".

chenle sighs, of course you're starting with something again. "i can't stay y/n, i really have to get home".

no. he doesn't. he doesn't have to get home. the only real reason would be daegal, who his brother graciously stole for the weekend. he doesn't live with anyone else, so he isn't exactly going home to anyone. he doesn't know why he said that, he just lied to lie.

"no you don't".

you're correct, but chenle wants to remain stubborn. he sucks his teeth, irritated at the pure truth. "just for a few minutes?" you ask, putting on pleading eyes as you stare at the other standing at the arm of the couch. "please? you don't have to stay for long, just until i sleep".

now how can chenle deny that? he can pretend he isn't in love with you while others are around, he can act like the flirting doesn't affect him in the hallways, he can act like nothing's there in the bright light of the day, but now? now? while you're staring at him with pleading eyes? how could he ever deny you?

"i— fine.." chenle sighs, hands dropping at his sides as he steps closer, sitting down beside you on the couch. he doesn't lie down just yet, he isn't that tired. "now will you sleep?"

you nod quickly. "much better, good night".

you rest your head against your couch, snuggling against the blanket as your hand reaches over to take chenle's, intertwining your fingers together. "thanks for staying with me.. you're a good friend".

chenle keeps silent, but you still aren't asleep, because you snort in response to your own words. "sorry, enemy, we're enemies".

chenle gives a chuckle in response. "yep, mortal enemies".

you give a dismissive wave with your free hand, laughing again. "okay okay, i love you, good night" you let your hand drop and keep your eyes closed as you slowly begin drifting off into a slumber.

chenle again pauses.

you what?

his cheeks flare up, just the small confession distracting him enough, your thumb caresses the back of his palm, and the touch amplifies the red of his cheeks.

you love him.

well that's nice.

THE SUNLIGHT PEAKING IN THROUGH THE NEARBY window earns a small wince from chenle, eyes begging to remain shut as the light shines against his eyelids. he shuffles— or, he tries his best to shuffle with the lack of space he's in, a small groan escaping his lips as he tries to wake himself. he goes through an inward battle of trying to adjust his eyesight whilst also attempting to avoid the direct light of the sun, taking a few moments of squinting until he can finally open his eyes, adjusting to his surroundings as he begins to fight the fatigue in his body. oh he is such a fucking liar. he agreed to just a few minutes right beside you, and he fell asleep, right beside you. he woke up before you, and your soft snores become all he hears in the room. "oh my god" chenle massages his own temples, cursing under his breath.

you're still asleep, just barely awaken from your seemingly good dreams as chenle takes in a deep breath, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes with one hand.

he stares down at your sleeping figure, your hair too messy, cheeks rosy red, and your other hand still holding his, squeezing. he snickers silently, and you must not have been that deep asleep, because you shuffle against your couch.

chenle lets go of your hand to rummage for his phone, and you let out a small sound of defiance as you feel his fingers slip from yours.

he almost laughs again, watching the way your eyebrows furrow. 09:14 am. wow, he doesn't remember the last time he slept that long.

"good morning.." you mutter, though you keep your eyes closed. chenle narrows his own eyes, amused by the sight. you feel around until you grab his hand again, intertwining your fingers. "i'm tired".

"yeah?"

"..and it all hurts".

chenle sighs, unable to get away from your hand squeezing his. "you have ibuprofen or something?"

"i just need to.." you pause, finally getting up, somehow without letting go of chenle's hand. "like walk around for some hours" you wave your free hand dismissively, and when chenle sends you a look, you clear your throat. "sometimes i can just walk in circles and get rid of a hangover".

chenle scrunches his nose, and you laugh at the face he gives you. "i'm not sure why it works that way either, it just does".

"you're a strange guy".

you hum, running a hand through your tousled hair. you two stay silent for a moment, staring at each other. "so you stayed over, huh?"

chenle again scrunches his nose, his cheeks flaring up. "i didn't mean to fall asleep.." he mutters, stubbornness immediately on display. "i was tired".

"aww, you didn't stay for me?"

"don't make me vomit, y/n".

you stick out your tongue, jumping off the couch and dusting off your clothes. "you gonna stay around or would you like for me to walk you out?"

"let me settle into the morning air first.."

"okay weirdo".

chenle almost scoffs, there's no way you're calling him weird, you're as weird as jaemin. maybe that's why, weird people can't grasp their own weirdness, they see it all as completely normal.

"you don't have a shitty hangover do you?"

you shake the bottle of ibuprofen then grab a bottle of water, taking the medication as if simply programmed to do it. you narrow your eyes, picking up on chenle's staring problem. "you stare a lot, huh?"

chenle snaps out of his dissociative state, realizing you asked him a question. "oh no i'm fine, i didn't even try to drink that shitty alcohol".

you snicker, putting the medication away and walking towards the bathroom. "you're simply a little too uptight".

"uptight? how did anyone drink that?"

you shrug from where you are, your voice echoing from the bathroom. "jinyoung is pretty convincing" chenle hears the sink water start running, assuming that you're brushing your teeth.

"not enough for terrible drinks".

chenle rises from his place, trudging behind you towards the bathroom. he stands in the doorway and watches you, he doesn't know why he's so interested in watching you do even the simplest of things, there's simply something about you that makes the simplest of tasks so compelling to watch.

you again catch his eyes, spitting out your toothpaste. "you definitely have a staring problem".

chenle sighs, how is he even supposed to argue with that? he is quite literally proving to you that he has a staring problem.

he doesn't really have one, though, it's just with you that he can't help but stare.

he can't exactly respond to that one, and a smirk shows on your lips, you've rendered him speechless. "oh.. am i right?"

chenle's scoff is stubborn, his arms folding over his chest, there's tease in your voice that makes red spread across his cheeks. "you aren't, i just constantly need to be around someone.."

what a reasonable lie that you clearly buy! you simply roll your eyes in response, he really just lies like it's nothing. you clasp your hands behind your back, lips turning up. "why do you lie to me so much? do i make you nervous or something?"

and it's not like you step closer, you simply stand there with your hands behind your back, a tormenting smile playing on your lips. you aren't doing anything, but chenle's legs feel weak, you're simply standing and smiling, it's nothing crazy, but you are crazy, what gives you the right to stand and smile like that at chenle?

"don't flatter yourself".

you raise an eyebrow, smile permanent. god you look so kissable right now, maybe chenle should give into his desires and lean in.

but he doesn't, he simply scowls, feigning irritation at your lack of action. "sorry, forgot we're mortal enemies and all".

you whistle, hands shoving into your pockets and walking past chenle. "you want me to walk you out now?"

chenle turns as your shoulder brushes against his, following behind you to the door. "you don't have to".

you open your front door, motioning with your head. "i technically already did!" oh so you're trying to be a smart ass, how funny. chenle's face falls, and your lips turn up as his turn down.

"you're so annoying".

"i'm simply here to entertain" you sing, gently pushing chenle out of your dorm. "have a good day enemy!"

and chenle would've flipped you off if he wasn't distracted by your smile.

CHENLE LETS HIS STUBBORNNESS CARRY THROUGHOUT the week, even while you two see each other, occasionally talking, occasionally staring longingly (that's more on chenle's part, you have such intriguing facial features, and not in a creepy way). he definitely does not have dreams about kissing you, about going on dates, or even about you two being a real couple, that would be ridiculous, zhong chenle does not have a crush, and he especially does not have a crush on you. yes the evidence looks pretty undeniable, his stares linger too much, his eyes linger too much, especially on your lips, he practically itches to hold your hand when you two are in public, the whole "mortal enemies" thing becoming an inside joke for you two. you seem perpetually oblivious to chenle's stares, or maybe you're just acting, it's getting a bit difficult to tell.

the rise in romantic tension doesn't help the rumors that were already up in the air, because the more chenle stares at you like he wants to eat you (in very figurative and literal ways), the more people just make assumptions about what exactly is going on between you two.

to be fair, they die down in whispers, but not in speculation. chenle can't even glance at you without another post popping up on heeseung's (frankly terrible) gossip blog about how he's obsessed.

and maybe there's some truth there (but chenle would never admit that, he can't give lee heeseung credence, he actually likes himself), but no one should ever know that, and hopefully you don't, he knows you don't read all the shit online. you do enjoy completely irritating chenle, though, he doesn't remember the last day he had that wasn't fueled by your annoying rants.

now, it's become mundane for you to be everywhere, and though it's never uttered, chenle really doesn't mind. he finds your presence to be enjoying, you entertain him like no other.

so no matter how much he tries to feign stubbornness, he loves your company. it's amazing how someone so annoying could also be someone so entertaining, and so.. well— beautiful too.

it's strange how easily you two fall into a rhythm of just existing together. chenle feels as if his life would be stranger if you weren't showing up abruptly for another strange conversation to follow.

it does become friendship, yes, but you two never say it. there's a peculiar romantic line there that you guys never bring up, there are too many almost kissing moments that never actually amount to kissing. chenle thinks you must be playing with him, psychologically torturing him. you fucking know, he can see it in your stupid smile.

but he doesn't say anything, not wanting to think he's getting it all wrong. if there's something chenle has learned about you, it's that you're unpredictable, and seeing as how you usually act with your other friends, being super affectionate is naturally your thing.

chenle doesn't want to seem stupid, it would be so embarrassing if the feelings he's spent a good few months trying to ignore turned out to be unrequited.

"is this your idea of a dat— oh my god you have a puppy!?"

your voice pitches up as you catch sight of daegal, cooing at the puppy who barked as she saw you enter. chenle glances at you, your eyes practically shining as you stare at his dog. he barely bites back his smile. "this is daegal, she's my daughter".

you kneel down to get a closer look at the adorable puppy, lips jutted into a pout. "hi daegal! how are you?"

though she's a little hostile at first, she takes one step forward, and you ruffle her hair, earning an excited yelp. you look like your about to burst into tears with how adorable she is, and you cast your eyes at chenle. "she's so cute chenle.."

"are you gonna cry?"

you shake your head, but chenle still isn't convinced. "i love her, i should come here more often!" daegal makes a sound you take as agreement, and you gasp again.

"oh wow, you're already replacing me with my dog?"

"absolutely" daegal jumps into your arm, and you melt into the feeling. you close your eyes, basking in the air of chenle's dormitory. "she likes me more than you do".

chenle narrows his eyes, but he can't even pretend to be pissed, because you simply look so ecstatic, how could he even be mad?

"okay baby, come here" he doesn't even have to move his hand, but daegal leaps out of your arms to circle around chenle. "you can't just steal y/n from me" he teases, carrying her in his arms as he makes his way over to his room.

he hears your overdramatic gasp in the distance, the words certainly surprising. "did i just hear what i think i heard!?"

you're practically hopping as you follow behind chenle towards his room, barely able to contain your own excitement. "oh my god you like me!"

chenle snaps his head towards you, a piercing (yet faked) glare in his eyes. "no dummy, were mortal enemies".

"i heard that~" you sing, turning on your heel to glance around chenle's room. "you just always have that large stephen curry poster on your wall?"

"he's my idol" chenle places daegal on his bed, she immediately curls up beside one of his pillows and settles, relaxing.

"seems like an obsession".

"you don't get stephen curry like i do".

you stare incredulously, a small smile on your face. you place your chin onto chenle's shoulder, watching his once serene expression become one of irritation, his eye twitching. "maybe not, but i definitely get you now".

chenle raises an eyebrow, silently questioning those words in the reflection of his mirror. he blinks, almost afraid to catch your eyes, but he already has, he's staring at your spitting image right now.

you peel yourself on him, a dramatic sigh falling from your lips as you stare, hands on your hips. "how long have you had a crush on me?"

chenle narrows his eyes. "excuse me?"

"come on! give me an honest answer! i won't laugh, i like you too you know, it's honestly kind of cute—"

"y/n".

you pause, chenle knew you were about to begin a ramble, so you shut up, angering him not really being on your list of things to do. you give him the stage to speak his mind, and he deadpans at you. "you are so annoying".

"does that mean you do have a crush on me?"

he stares, fighting the smile that threatens to break on his face. "you are so annoying, it's stupid how i have a crush on you, it's so dumb! you're so annoying but it's also what makes you endearing, and charming, and cute and fuck you!"

and maybe chenle does spit such hurtful words, but he doesn't mean them. his face is unbearably red, cheeks heated to the max, it's embarrassing that he's admitting this to you, now all he has left to do is kill himself and change the trajectory of your life forever.

you stare for a moment, and then you begin laughing, small giggles falling from your lips in such a rapid pace chenle is afraid you'll die.

"you always tell people you like them by shouting?"

"you're so annoying".

"is that your way of saying you love me?" you ask, stepping closer with your hands clasped together. "maybe we should talk about it".

"do you want me to die..?" he mutters, face still incredibly hot. he glares again, but he can't even keep his composure. "i'll take back that confession".

"aww, i like it when you yell at me though".

chenle shoves you backward, yet he smiles anyway. you're so annoying, but maybe there's allurement sprinkled in that he can't exactly ignore. "i fucking hate you.." he mumbles.

you again stare, simply pure adoration in your eyes. you again step closer, fingers grazing his jaw in gentle swipes along the edges. you pause, uncharacteristically silent. "can i kiss you?"

chenle stops. oh! well he didn't expect for this to happen now. he looks up, staring for much too long, thinking for much too long. "i— um, yeah.. yes".

the response fizzles into the air, overtaken by the influx of your cherry flavored chapstick, his bottom lip caught between your teeth as your finger draw shapes into his hip. chenle didn't guess this one, maybe it's because he always bites first, but then again, unpredictability is a thing with you.

your teeth scrape against the plush, pink skin, not rough enough to draw blood, you have courtesy. the action produces just the slightest hint of a whimper from chenle, what a fuel to your ego.

when you two pull away for air, chenle's first move is to avoid eye contact. you giggle at the sight of his cherry red cheeks, your fingers still graze his jaw, slowly turning his head in your direction. "hi".

maybe chenle's smile is too wide, but he's done giving a fuck. he begins fiddling with the zipper of your sweater, trying to distract himself. you again laugh, seemingly amused by his actions. "let's not do this before i take you on a date" you whisper, implications high in the air.

chenle's cheeks again flare up, and much too easily as well. "you think i wanna sleep with you right after we just kissed?"

"people are strange.. and you are people".

"you think i'm moving too quick" chenle pokes your cheek, resisting the urge to place a kiss onto it, maybe not now. you hum happily, intertwining your fingers.

"i didn't say it, let me treat you before sex".

the words are much too honest, but chenle loves honest. it's so stupid, you're so stupid. "what makes you think we're having sex?"

"oh just wait".

chenle frowns, eyebrows furrowing. "that sounds like a threat" he states, scratching behind his ear.

you whistle again, hands behind your back as you laugh. "you've definitely said worse, i'll treat you well".

you hold your hand out again, and chenle takes it without any hesitation, basking in the feeling of your soft hands on his own. "okay, i'm holding you to that, if you fail i'll hang your head on my wall".

you snicker, nudging him. "see? you are worse! it's obvious!"

chenle scowls, but it's so lighthearted that he can't even call it a scoff anymore. "you're so annoying".

you tug at his hand, a small act of defiance. "thank you, enemy".

your fingers slip from chenle's, and he can't fight his smile. you're so annoying, yes, but you're also so pretty.

"CAN YOU STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE YOU WANT to kill me?" if chenle thinks about it, you really are jaemin's twin. jaemin's stare is reminiscent of the ones you share with chenle whenever he glares, arms crossed, nose scrunched. jaemin's lips turn downward into a frown, a frown that directly copies yours, wow, you two are simply carbon copies of each other, no wonder you're such good friends. chenle finds it weird that almost anything can remind him of you now, considering you two have only been dating for two weeks (where did all the time go?), his terrible staring problem hasn't gotten any better anyway, he can stare at you with free reign whenever he wants to. it's too hard to be stubborn when he's so obvious, especially because you could just raise an eyebrow and he'd crumble (only a little though, not all the way).

"how else am i supposed to stare at you?" chenle's eyes hold a certain distaste, and jaemin lets out a loud, overdramatic sigh. "do you always have to ask me stupid questions?"

his hands fall at his sides, an action that chenle judges in it's entirety. "jeno would treat me better than this.."

"go sit with him then".

chenle doesn't have to tell him twice, he stomps his feet like a baby and trudges towards where jeno sits. he can barely stifle his laughter, something about jaemin's stupid way of responding to things is amusing.

chenle might just leave right now, it's not like this is one of the games that one of jaemin's random friends is playing at, this is simply a random volleyball game for a team he doesn't really care about (with no offense to the players).

his hands scratch at the fabric of his pants, he's only here because he decided to give into jaemin's incessant begging. oh screw na jaemin.

"this fucking sucks.."

"is this becoming your thing?"

chenle startles, jumping from his spot with a small squeak. he then relaxes when he sees you, a glare settling in his eyes. "you need to stop doing that" he responds, and you snicker, completely amused. "i didn't think you were coming".

"i was looking for you" you whisper, hands behind your back. "since when is jaemin so convincing to you?"

"he isn't, he's just annoying".

"wonder where i've heard that before" you feign thought, tapping your finger onto your chin. your lips turn up as you catch chenle roll his eyes, he's simply so easy to irritate. "you're so mean to me".

"that's my job".

you gasp, hand placing itself over your heart. "you just stole my cue".

i've unconsciously begun taking up some of your habits too, what the fuck is up with that?

the words aren't said, though. chenle simply reaches over and takes your hand, deciding to not say the obvious. you stare for a moment, then your lips turn up in their usual manner.

"that happens when i spend so much time around you" he tugs you forward by your hand, practically pressing you against him. "i'm picking up your annoying habits".

"is annoying your favorite word?"

"annoying is what you are".

you narrow your eyes, swinging your laced hands back and forth. "but you love me" you sing, much too enamored to even be bothered by his insults.

chenle scoffs, but he doesn't deny, simply squeezes your hand. it's difficult to care about anyone else when you're right here, even the people who send you weird looks (which is strange considering everyone already thought you were dating before you actually were, why is it weird that you two are holding hands?).

he shakes his head. "absolutely not".

you frown, that sick, sad frown that is just much too convincing. there's no reason for you to look so sad so flawlessly, chenle wants to punch you in the face. it's how he'll show his love for you.

the game won't start for a long time, he probably would've died of boredom if you hadn't shown up. "hey you wanna go?"

chenle glances at you. "go where?"

"literally anywhere but here" you state, nudging him with your shoulder. "i won't bore you much, i swear".

chenle sighs, he has no argument for that, he would rather be anywhere but here. "if jaemin texts you, don't answer".

you snicker at that, looking down at the ground. "he's going to think you killed me or something" you mutter, just lightly shuddering at the cold air that hits you both as you exit through the door.

"maybe i will" he responds, his rings would usually clash against your hand if not for the feeling being so mundane. "i have to rip you away from daegal, she's getting too used to you".

"is threatening to kill me your way of showing love?"

chenle stares for a moment, simply basking in everything. your intertwined fingers, the cool evening air, the comfort of it all, maybe chenle isn't exactly all that mad at jaemin, you're right here beside him, talking your ass off, and he laughs, it's all so funny. "sometimes you piss me off".

"i'm hoping you said that with love".

it's gotten much too difficult to successfully act serious around you, you're too funny. "of course i did, stupid".

you raise an eyebrow, an action that makes chenle sigh. you have to know that's his weakness, it's much too easy to get him. "say it, please?"

chenle cannot believe the audacity you have. you greatly piss him off, you bat your eyelashes as you patiently wait for him to confess his love to you.

chenle lets out a loud, exasperated breath. you're so annoying.

"i love you".

your face lights up, cheeks flaring at the confession. you press a kiss to chenle's cheek, enamored.

"i love you too".

#zhong chenle #chenle #nct #nct dream #nct u #chenle nct #chenle nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #chenle imagines #chenle scenarios #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x male reader #zhong chenle x reader #zhong chenle x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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jooniperbonsai · 8 months

Text

Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!

xo - h

That’s it baby cum for me.

Such a good little slut for Daddy.

Wish that dildo was my cock.

Fuck this is so hot.

The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this.

Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day.

His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone.

Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone.

Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.

Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay.

Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into.

Two Years Ago

It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé.

During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase.

But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college.

For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car.

Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello.

When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong.

Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon.

That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship.

As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection.

So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift.

He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon.

What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table.

As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior.

It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.

Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning.

When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life.

His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever.

After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options.

“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said.

“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together.

But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.

The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant.

Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown.

During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours.

Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can.

Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case.

A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over.

Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.

Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of.

“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.

His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him.

It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.

His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach.

But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain.

Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion.

In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since.

But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him.

“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.”

“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”

The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer.

Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”

Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh.

“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly.

Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him.

“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious.

“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”

“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!”

Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions.

“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.”

Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.

“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.

“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls.

“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!”

“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit.

“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”

Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.”

Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room, it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.

Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!”

“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.

“No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”

The entire room went silent.

“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm.

Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one.

How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men?

Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying.

“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”

Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.”

Seokjin winced.

“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”

“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added.

“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous.

“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.”

“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased.

“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want.

“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”

“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up.

Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize.

He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know.

“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?”

Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.”

The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face.

Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him.

“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?”

Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”

A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.

“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.”

Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress.

“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking.

“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.”

Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up.

“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?”

That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.

I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot.

When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in.

Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty.

So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)

I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.

For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel.

Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t.

Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making.

Jin, the moon.

That’s it. He was the moon.

Present

“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.

Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job.

Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread.

The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over.

And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.

He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers.

One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right.

If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.

But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.

On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.

It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own.

You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.

You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears.

You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.

But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world.

Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway.

Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends.

When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life.

Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor.

He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that.

A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.

Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.

And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.

But try telling his dick that.

Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties.

And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.

This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading.

During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him.

He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste?

And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.

He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–

Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while.

As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms.

He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach.

Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?

She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow.

Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man.

Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating.

“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said.

He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.

Where was that man now? She didn’t know.

She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived.

Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.

He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.

It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else.

She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free.

She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.

Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her?

No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future.

This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown.

“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found.

She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to.

She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back.

She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall.

“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.”

She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner.

There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August.

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off.

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality.

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people?

You don’t. That’s the problem.

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends.

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to.

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous.

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play.

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence.

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary.

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t—

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel.

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk.

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. .

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments.

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them.

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you.

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real.

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill.

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod.

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin.

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in.

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into.

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin.

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty.

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in.

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce.

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours.

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red.

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude.

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing.

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down.

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry.

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity.

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off.

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait.

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots.

When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee.

Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe.

Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill.

“That all depends on how much you practice.”

“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor.

Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”

“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to.

As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon.

This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice.

And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties.

“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse.

There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon.

Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.

Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast.

And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore.

With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags.

You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll.

When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace.

Snow is really romantic.

“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face.

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining.

A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward.

“What do–”

“I just–”

You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin.

“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating.

“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”

You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn.

“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?

Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him.

While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes.

You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection.

He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.

He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time.

While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim.

Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional.

You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response.

“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”

Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says.

Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak.

His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”

You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it.

“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”

As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in.

“Yeah,” you reply lamely.

You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression.

Then, he leans in.

Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.

Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek.

All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.

This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness.

If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock.

It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you.

“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name.

“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?

“Turn around,” he says.

Wait, what?

You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind?

Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.

“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused.

He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for?

“Wha–”

You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet.

Fuck.

“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath.

Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago?

“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck.

Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet.

“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead.

Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes.

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off.

He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board.

“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.”

You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it.

“Your best girl?” You ask lightly.

Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”

You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her.

If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.

“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue.

“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.”

You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily.

“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes.

You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him.

God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.

You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control.

After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter.

He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him.

In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor.

Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster.

You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large.

You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend.

You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down.

The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal.

“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you..

You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked.

“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself.

“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard.

Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height.

Holy shit.

Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside.

You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over.

“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince.

“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.”

Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing.

“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.”

You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold.

“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.”

You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other.

“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns.

“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”

You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.”

Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head.

“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother.

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything.

“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”

Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair.

“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.”

Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self.

You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk.

A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it.

“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”

Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth.

His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it.

Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere.

You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple.

That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.

Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs.

His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face.

“I–I’m sorry!”

Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen.

You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot.

And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into?

The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door.

Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down.

Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.

Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates.

If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess.

Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.

“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.

Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess.

You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters.

You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same.

You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin.

He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip.

He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count.

He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen.

“Wait,” he says, and you freeze.

Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours.

“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”

Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.”

Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.”

His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.

Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?

You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it.

As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”

“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own.

“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful.

As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something.

With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well.

You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give.

You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead.

That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard.

You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day.

How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous.

Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips.

God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around.

He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock.

Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard.

If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen.

Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy.

It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all.

Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension.

You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this.

You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.

The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal.

Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible.

You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with.

As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it.

You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit.

Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop.

You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier.

The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now.

And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today.

You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum.

Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation.

You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop.

You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind.

You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point.

You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising.

Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money.

You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive.

Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved.

There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring.

You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate.

In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well.

You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category.

The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”.

You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil.

“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans.

Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.

You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch.

“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”

His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you.

“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.”

The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts.

To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.

“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.

“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.”

You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity.

The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more.

“Please,” you moan at your screen.

Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself?

“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”

You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.

“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”

Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate.

Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything.

Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again.

“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.”

Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied.

He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock.

“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.”

In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash.

You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.

Please, Daddy. Please let me cum.

I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear.

Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock!

Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course.

The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record.

He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar? “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.”

Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe.

There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock.

“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit.

The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip.

“Is this what you’re begging for?”

Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes.

Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip.

“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow.

“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.”

You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like.

Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me. Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out.

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing.

His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out.

Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory?

There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far.

“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”

Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release.

He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan.

With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”.

“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.”

The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling.

You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant.

Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago.

He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site.

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