#it got to the point that she really only had two friends in the entire clan and one of them was her aunt whod later also die after coming

[munsonkitten]

high and lonesome

a late 4/20 fic | read on AO3 | 5700 words | Rated M

tags: weed, paranoia, getting together, first date + kiss, sharing a bed

Eddie starts smoking a lot of weed when he gets out of the hospital. Not that he didn’t before, but he smokes a lot more now than he did before the hospital and everything that put him there. 

It helps with the pain, of course. And he just likes it. Sue him. 

Well, he used to like it a lot more than he does now. Now that he knows monsters are real and shit, the subtle paranoia he always got before has ramped up to, like, two hundred percent. Only when he’s too high, which is good. He tends to know his limits except for when he doesn’t, except for when he gets a really good batch that hits him a little too hard, except for when he decides to ignore all his limits in favor of getting so fucked up he can’t move. 

It helps with the pain. That’s what matters.

Except now it’s dark out and Eddie keeps hearing shit outside and he’s so high he’s convincing himself there’s something interdimensional out there even if he knows there isn’t. He wishes he had a big guard dog, maybe he could find a stray and bring it home. Wayne probably wouldn’t mind Eddie having a little protection when he’s home alone at night. Now that the whole town wants him dead, even if the Hawkins Post cleared his name two months ago. 

Yeah, he’ll get a dog one of these days. Train it to bark at everyone except him and Wayne and maybe the kids, and okay the dog can like Steve, too. But only because Eddie likes Steve. 

Eddie really likes Steve. It would be wrong to make his dog bark at him. 

There’s another crash outside and Eddie’s heart thumps in his chest, and his entire body jumps off the couch, and he knows it’s just a raccoon trying to get into his neighbors’ trash because Eddie’s seen the creature out there every night this week, and in fact just saw it while he was sitting on the step soaking up the pleasant night breeze while he smoked the last couple puffs that put him in too fucking much territory. 

It still scares the shit out of him when he hears it, even if he knows it’s out there, that’s all he’s saying. 

If he had a dog, it would scare the raccoon away. 

Or maybe his dog would get rabies. 

That would fucking suck. 

Eddie knows how rough rabies shots are. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy, and certainly not his imaginary dog who protects him from the things that lurk outside. 

And now he’s thinking about the shit that lurks outside, and he really needs this high to subside a bit so he can think about this a little more rationally. Except rationality goes out the window when monsters are fucking real and Eddie almost died because of them. 

Fuck. 

He’s gotta call someone before he crawls out of his skin. 

It’s getting kind of late which means his options are pretty limited. Most of his friends live with their parents and don’t have their own phone lines. He could probably get away with calling Nancy, but she’s got a lot going on these days and Eddie knows she needs her sleep. He could run across the trailer park and tap on Ronnie’s window since she’s home for the summer, but he’s honestly too scared to go outside right now, and he’s not calling and waking up Granny Ecker at this hour, so Ronnie’s a bust, too. 

That pretty much just leaves Steve. 

Steve, whose parents aren’t home most nights, and Steve would has a direct phone line right to his bedroom, but also Steve, who Eddie’s been kind of avoiding since he got out of the hospital because he likes Steve just a little too much in a way that freaks him out because he knows every time he sees Steve it gets worse and worse, and right now he’s so fucking stoned he’s not sure he won’t just spill his guts to the guy if he calls him. 

But Eddie’s too fucking scared not to call him. 

He makes a point to reread Steve’s phone number five times before he attempts to punch it in, and then because his head isn’t on right, he hangs up halfway through another three times because he thinks he’s gotten it wrong. Chances are, he’s got it right every time, but he isn’t confident until try number four. 

“Hello?”

Steve’s voice is clear on the other end, which takes Eddie by surprise because he thought for sure Steve would be sleeping at this hour. He sounds wide awake, though, almost like a midnight call is super normal and expected. 

“Uh,” Eddie says. “Hey, Harrington. It’s —”

“Eddie, hey,” Steve says. “What’s going on, man?”

“Sorry for calling so late.”

Eddie rests his forehead against the wall next to the phone and takes a breath. He’s too aware of how he’s breathing right now, of the way the plastic of the phone feels under his fingers, too aware of the way his teeth feel in his mouth. 

“No, it’s alright. I was up. You okay?”

“Hm,” Eddie grunts. Neither a yes or a no. 

“Gonna need more than that.”

“Yeah, no, yeah. I’m… I’m alright. Nothing, uh, life threatening, or anything. Just… Needed to talk to someone. You said if I needed — well, I know it was a while ago, but you said I could call.”

He doesn’t really wanna tell Steve why. Like, how embarrassing that the town dealer can’t handle his own pot, you know? But he can’t risk Steve hanging up right now, and he needs to say something, and needing someone feels embarrassing to admit, too, but Eddie tells himself it’s better than the alternative. 

“No, yeah, of course, Eddie. Do you wanna come over?” Steve asks. “I get it, man. You can come over if that’ll help.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, gripping the phone a little bit tighter. “No, nah. I, uh, no. Can’t really drive right now.”

He feels like he could fuck up getting a glass of water right now. Getting behind the wheel like this would probably result in someone dying. If he felt like he could make it outside in the first place. 

“Oh,” Steve says softly. “That’s okay, man. Did you want me to come over instead?”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Steve says. “I’ll come by, alright? Will you be okay for, like, ten minutes?”

Eddie nods before realizing Steve can’t see him through the phone. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

He hangs up and heads down the hall to his bedroom. The floor is a mess, covered in dirty clothes and empty beer cans. He should clean up, but he knows he isn’t going to make much of a dent in this state. 

He sits down on his bed and starts picking up the underwear and dirty socks scattered around at his feet. They nearly make it to the laundry basket when he tosses them, but he doesn’t make any attempt to adjust his aim. 

It’s hard to tell how long he sits there trying to think of what needs to go in the laundry basket and what needs to be thrown in the garbage. This should be easy, even when Eddie’s smoked a little too much, but he’s so far gone he would rather just not think at all. Not thinking at all seems like the best course of action.

By the time he hears Steve’s tires on the gravel outside, he’s barely made any progress on his bedroom. Maybe Steve will be fine sitting on the couch in the living room instead of hanging out in Eddie’s bedroom. Eddie doesn’t even know why he automatically assumed Steve would want to be in his bedroom at all. 

Steve lets himself in, and Eddie realizes it’s probably a really bad idea to keep the front door unlocked when he’s like this. Anyone could come in and do anything they want to him, and if they were trying to hurt him, he’d probably get no warning either. At least Steve announces himself when he comes in, calls out Eddie’s name and makes some noise shutting the door again. 

“In here,” Eddie calls back, but Steve probably already guessed that.

He shows up in Eddie’s doorway a second later. 

“Hey, man,” Steve says, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. 

It’s dark in Eddie’s room, but light in the hallway, so when Eddie looks up, he can barely make out the look on Steve’s face. He might be smiling, or maybe grimacing over the mess in Eddie’s room. It’s hard to tell. 

Steve doesn’t turn on the light.

“You hungry?” Steve asks. 

Eddie thinks for a second and then nods. 

“Let’s go to the diner.”

“Oh, uh.”

He doesn’t think he should leave if he’s being perfectly honest. It feels like he’s wearing a sign on his forehead that says “I’M HIGH OFF ILLEGAL SUBSTANCES, PLEASE CALL THE COPS ON ME,” so he doesn’t really know if going to the diner is the best idea. 

“It’s alright,” Steve says. “My treat.”

Which isn’t what Eddie was worried about even if he doesn’t have more than a couple dollars in his wallet right now, but he doesn’t think Steve would understand if he explains his problem, so he just nods instead. 

“Let me, um,” Eddie starts, looking around his room. “Shoes.”

“Your white ones? They’re by the front door. I’ll go get them, okay?”

“Okay, but—”

“It’s alright, man,” Steve says again. 

“Steve,” Eddie tries. “I’m really high.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. 

With that squared away, Eddie feels a little bit better about the whole thing. 

“I’ll get your shoes, you just take a minute,” Steve says, then he turns and leaves Eddie’s room again. 

Eddie takes a minute to breathe, like pulling normal air into his lungs will replace everything he smoked and take him down a few notches. In the end, he doesn’t feel any less stoned, but Steve returns with his shoes in his hand and Eddie has to focus on putting them on his feet.

Without asking, Steve squats down and starts tying them for Eddie. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Eddie mutters.

“I know,” Steve says, moving on to the other one. “Just let me help you out, okay?”

So Eddie lets him and then accepts the hand Steve offers to pull him up off the bed. 

Outside, Eddie scans the immediate area for any signs of the raccoon, and even when he doesn’t see it, he walks to the car as quickly as possible. He doesn’t even consider the raccoon could’ve been hiding under his stairs waiting to swipe at his ankles until after he’s safe in the car.

As Steve drives, Eddie feels like he’s still getting higher, like those last puffs are just now kicking in after he was already too high. Maybe it’s all in his head.

He knows, realistically, that this won’t last forever, but it doesn’t feel like the end is in sight. He should have just gone to bed as soon as it got too scary for him, shouldn’t have called Steve in the middle of the night, or should’ve told him not to come over at all. 

“C’mon,” Steve says when they’re parked. “There’s nobody here.”

Eddie’s surprised to see Jonathan Byers in uniform when they walk in. He seems to be the only employee on the front end of the diner, but Eddie can hear music and voices in the kitchen. Steve’s right, there’s no one else dining right now. It makes it a lot easier for Eddie to feel comfortable, to ease his worries about someone figuring out what’s wrong with him. 

He must’ve known Jonathan was working tonight and picked this place because obviously Byers isn’t gonna care that Eddie is blasted out of his mind. 

“Hey,” Jonathan says when they come in. He throws the towel he was using to wipe down a table over his shoulder and gets them a couple menus from the host stand. “Booth or counter?”

“We’ll take a booth, man, thanks,” Steve says before Eddie can even process the question. 

Jonathan brings them over to the booth he just finished wiping down, and sets their menus on opposite sides of the table.

The old booth upholstery has seen better days and Eddie picks the side with less cracks in it, knowing the chain on his wallet will catch and stick in one of the holes. He’s too high to even think about detaching himself if it comes down to it. 

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” Jonathan asks.

“Water,” Eddie mumbles, resting his head against the window while Steve messes with the jukebox on the table. 

“I’ll take a Coke, thanks,” Steve answers. “Ed, you sure you don’t want a pop?”

“Water.”

“If you change your mind, just wave me down,” Jonathan says. 

It’s only been a few months since the Byers got back to town, but Jonathan already has a job. Eddie’s been applying to places ever since he quit the Hideout two years ago, and none of the places have even bothered calling back. He knows why — he’s accepted it, but that doesn’t completely tamp down the bitterness in his throat over it. 

He picks up the menu on the table instead. 

“I can’t even think about this,” Eddie mumbles to himself. 

“Doing okay?” Steve asks. 

Eddie grunts in response and nods once. He just needs some water and then he’ll be able to think about this menu and what he wants to eat. 

“What are you thinking?” Steve asks. “Breakfast or burger? They have the full menu all the time.”

“Yes,” Eddie agrees. “I mean — uh.”

Steve chuckles across the table. “Get both if you want.”

Eddie sinks a bit in his seat, feeling a little embarrassed over the entire thing. All of it, from getting too high, to calling Steve, to needing help tying his shoes like he’s a little kid, to this — Steve’s kindness and understanding.

He doesn’t want to feel this way, like he’s some idiot that needs caring for just because he can't handle his pot like he used to. 

A hand covers his on top of his menu, and Eddie glances up, across the table, to see the softest, kindest eyes he’s ever seen in his life. A light smile, something reassuring and not at all patronizing, like maybe Steve just really wants to be helpful. 

“Get whatever you want, Ed.”

So Eddie nods and focuses a little bit harder on the menu, so by the time Jonathan comes back with his water, he’s able to order. 

“Can I do a cheeseburger? And maybe, like… a side of scrambled eggs. But not, like, instead of fries. I want eggs and fries. And bacon,” Eddie says. “And bacon on the burger, too.”

Jonathan snorts and writes it all down, then takes Steve’s order.

“Hey, man, do you have anything on you?” Jonathan asks before he leaves to give the order to the kitchen.

Eddie shakes his head. “Come by Forest Hills after your shift, though.”

“I’m glad you called me,” Steve says when Jonathan leaves. “I was getting pretty hungry. Thought about coming here by myself, even.”

That could be a lie, but Steve says it so earnestly, Eddie just has to believe him. He starts to feel a little bit better about it.

Eddie drinks all of his water before the food comes, and then asks for a cup of coffee and another water. He pours more sugar in the coffee than probably necessary, but Steve doesn’t say anything about it. 

The meal might be the best thing he’s ever eaten in his life. 

Steve gives him a piece of his sausage in exchange for a piece of bacon, and Eddie wishes he ordered a side of that, too. 

When Jonathan brings them the check, Steve doesn’t let Eddie see it and refuses his offer to pay for his half. Eddie thinks he’ll figure out a way to pay Steve back for it, maybe by washing his car, or cleaning the leaves out of his pool, or maybe he’ll send Steve home with a joint or two after he drops him off. 

On the drive back, Eddie feels a lot more like himself than he did on the drive there. He feels stupid for needing to call Steve. It’s not like he’s never been too high before, and he’s handled it just fine in the past. 

It’s just different now. 

And he hasn’t seen Steve more than a few times since everything happened, and okay, so maybe he missed the guy a little bit. This is nice, having a midnight diner run with a friend. It’s been a while since he’s had this and it reminds him of late nights with his band after they finish a show. He did this with Ronnie a lot, the few times they made enough money at a gig to get dinner afterwards. 

Something about sitting in a booth with cracked upholstery for hours while he sips shitty coffee and smokes too many cigarettes — it’s these nights that he knows he’ll look back on when he’s fifty. 

He just hopes that when he looks back, Steve’s still in his life. And a stupid, pathetic part of him hopes it’s because Steve has a big fat crush on him, like the one Eddie has on Steve. That stupid, lovesick part of him hopes they spend their lives together and think about this as one of their first dates, and look back at it and laugh over Eddie being too stoned to say more than five words the entire time. 

If he can’t have that thirty years down the line, though, he’ll settle for this night going on just a little while longer. 

“Still doing okay?” Steve asks. “Feel any better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answers. He tries to clear some of the creeping dryness out of his throat. “Can you, uh, stop at the gas station by me, maybe?”

“Sure thing.”

As soon as the car stops in front of the gas station, Eddie realizes this might have been a bad idea. His legs don’t quite feel right, and he thinks if he gets out of the car he’ll walk funny and make a fool of himself. And that’s not even considering how he’ll act when he actually gets inside and has to make a decision about what he wants or when he has to count his money at the counter. 

“Sorry, I—” Eddie starts. “Never mind, I don’t really need anything.”

“Hey,” Steve says softly. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m just,” Eddie groans. “Still not feeling right.”

“What do you want? I’ll go in,” Steve says. 

“No, that’s okay. You can just take me home.”

“Well, I need cigarettes, so.”

And then Steve gets out of the car, leaving Eddie alone in the deserted parking lot. 

Eddie quickly gets out and follows him in, not wanting to be alone in the middle of the night so close to the woods. He finds Steve standing in front of the drink case, hands on his hips while he looks over all the options. 

“Cans of pop are discounted if you get two,” Steve says. “But I’ll probably only drink one, so…”

“I—”

“You might as well get one,” Steve adds. “I was thinking about a big bag of chips, too, did you want some?” 

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, a little reluctant. 

Steve seems to be on a mission, and Eddie doesn’t want to get in the way of it. 

He does put cash on the counter for his own stuff when they get up there, not wanting to make Steve pay for everything tonight. He gets a pack of cigarettes, too, watching as the cashier bags everything up into one bag for the both of them. 

“Do you wanna, like, hang out?” Eddie asks when they make it back to the trailer park. “I just… It’s hard being here at night. And I’m pretty sure if you leave, I’m just gonna start smoking again, and I think I’ll just freak myself out all over again, so, if you wanna stay and hang out, you know… You don’t have to, though. If you’re busy, or whatever. I know I called you out of the blue.”

“Yeah, I’ll hang out,” Steve says easily. “Might fall asleep on you, though. Haven’t, uh, been sleeping great lately, so.”

“Hey, if you’re tired, just drop me off, it’s cool, dude, go get some sleep.”

“No, man, that’s not — I mean, I have a hard time being alone, too. That’s all I’m saying. It’s always easier, in my experience — at least — to, you know, fall asleep with someone else breathing in the room.”

“Alright,” Eddie says. He won’t argue with that. “Just, you know, Wayne’ll get home in a few hours and he sleeps on the pull out in the living room, so you’ll have to bunk with me. And my bed’s not all that big, so I hope you don’t mind the inevitability of me kicking you in my sleep.”

Steve snorts. “I think we can make it work.”

The thing is, now that Eddie’s not so fucked up, he remembers he set out some magazines before he smoked. thinking he’d get just high enough that jerking off feels like the best thing in the entire world. That means there’s gay porn sitting on his nightstand when they make it into his bedroom, and Steve sees it before Eddie can shove it back under his mattress. 

“Um,” Eddie says, feeling caught. 

“It’s all good, man,” Steve says. Like it’s really just all good. Like it’s not proof Eddie’s a faggot freak who likes muscly men in jockstraps. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Which, right, because Steve’s pretty muscly, and probably has his fair share of jockstraps, being an athlete and all that, which honestly makes the whole situation a million times worse. 

“If you wanna leave now, I get it,” Eddie says. 

“Huh? No, dude, I’m — I mean, me too, you know?”

“You too?” 

What?

“I’m, like,” Steve says, waving his hand vaguely like the words will just present themselves. “I’m into… That. Men. Sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“So, I’m not weirded out, or anything.”

They just stand there looking at each other, and Eddie can’t help but notice the pink rising in Steve’s cheeks over it all, and Eddie can’t even say anything because he’s been bright red since he realized what was sitting out in the open, so. 

So. 

“Cool,” he says. “That’s cool, man. Thanks for, uh, telling me, and all of that. I won’t — I mean, obviously I won’t tell anyone, you know? And I mean, I — People already think they know about me, but don’t, I mean. I don’t want them to actually know, so—”

“I won’t tell anyone, either,” Steve promises. “C’mon, let’s…”

He toes off his shoes and unzips his jacket, laying it carefully over Eddie’s vest on his desk chair.

“Shoes off,” Steve tells him before squatting down to start untying them for Eddie. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m going to,” Steve says. “Just let me help you out, Eddie. You’re still baked.”

“Not that bad anymore,” Eddie mumbles. 

But he lets Steve do it, and then lets him slide his hands under the opening of Eddie’s leather jacket, slipping it over his shoulders.Steve’s practically undressing him after saying he likes guys, too, and it’s — fuck, it’s weird, but not at all unwelcome.

“Do you sleep in your jeans?” Steve asks after laying Eddie’s jacket over his own. 

“Boxers, usually, but, um,” Eddie starts. “I have pajama pants I can put on since, y’know.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable in. Could I borrow some pants?”

Eddie nods and goes to his dresser, rifling through the drawers of clothes he doesn’t wear too often anymore. There’s a pair of sweats at the bottom of one that should fit Steve, so he tosses them over, and starts to look for something for himself. 

“Hey, man, if you sleep in your underwear, I’m not gonna be weird about it,” Steve says as he drops his jeans to the floor. 

Eddie tries not to look, but he does anyway. Clad in just a polo and a pair of tighty whiteys, Steve looks like all of Eddie’s fantasies. He shakes the thoughts away and goes back to his mission. He needs another layer between them so it’s harder to feel his dick when he inevitably chubs up laying beside Steve. 

“It gets kind of cold in here,” Eddie lies. 

It’s the middle of July.

“Okay,” Steve says instead of calling him on it. 

The air between them has shifted considerably, and now that Eddie’s sobering up, he doesn’t even have the excuse of being high to explain why he’s acting so weird. It’s not every day the guy you’ve been fantasizing about for as long as you can remember shows up wanting to borrow your clothes and share a bed with you. Eddie is entirely out of his depth here. 

“Do you want some?” Eddie asks, holding up a baggy of bud and a couple joints he rolled earlier. 

“I don’t think you should have more,” Steve says carefully. 

“I’m coming down a little too fast,” Eddie says. “Just need… Like three hits to sleep.”

Steve eyes him for a second and then nods. 

“Okay, just… Just a little for me, too, then,” he agrees. 

And that’s how he ends up with Steve Harrington high and giggly in his bed as they laugh about… Something. Eddie can’t remember now that he’s staring at Steve’s lips, now that he’s taking another puff of the joint Steve’s smoking most of. He passes it, watches as Steve brings it to his mouth, pinched between two long fingers, and oh fuck, Eddie’s gotta look away before he does something stupid, but he can’t. 

“You good?” Steve asks with a little laughter in his words. A beautiful smile on his lips as he takes another puff. Smoke swirls in the air between them. Oh wow, they’re a lot closer than Eddie realized. 

“Mhm.”

“This stuff’s good,” Steve says, giving it back. 

“Mhm,” Eddie agrees, handing it back without smoking any more. “I think, uh. I’ve probably had enough for now, though. Finish it if you want.”

He probably shouldn’t have lit this one up to begin with. He doesn't know how to act while he’s this close to Steve. 

“Mhm,” Steve parrots after another small hit. He hands it back. “Me too, put it out.”

Eddie has to reach over Steve’s body to put it in the ashtray and Steve shifts to give him more room, but then when Eddie comes back, Steve shifts again. He slips his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, giving him no choice but to press in close. 

“I’m glad you called me,” Steve says when Eddie’s settled against him. 

He feels so warm, cheeks heating up awfully quick over the position they’re in. 

Steve’s fingers are playing with the ends of his hair, brushing against Eddie’s back with little electrifying grazes. 

“Shit,” Eddie breathes to himself. 

This is not happening. He’s dreaming this. His shit was laced and it’s all a hallucination. 

But god, it feels so real. It has to be real. It just doesn’t make any sense. 

“You okay?” Steve asks softly, tilting his head so it rests against Eddie’s. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “You’re killing me, though.”

Steve hums in response, just a little hm, of acknowledgment. 

“I’m really glad you called me,” Steve says again. “Been wanting to see you, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Wasn’t sure about what?” 

Steve shrugs. “Just didn’t think you wanted to be friends, you know? I wasn’t the greatest guy back in high school. My friends were really mean to you. Just thought, you know, maybe we save the world once in a while, and never see each other in between. I don’t know.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie says. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Toosh.”

“It’s touché,” Eddie snorts. 

“Whatever. Yeah, that.” 

Eddie presses his laughter into Steve’s neck, letting his hand find a place on Steve’s stomach. 

“So we’re both kind of stupid,” Eddie says. “If we wanted to be friends and neither of us called, I mean.”

“Can I be honest? Like, don’t be weird about it if you don’t… I mean,” Steve starts. 

“Yeah, anything. I mean, you saw my porn, dude, I think we’re past being weird about things.”

“Yeah, about that,” Steve says. “It’s… I mean, honestly? If I’m being completely honest, I didn’t really want to be friends, I…”

Where the hell could this even be going? Surely not where Eddie wants it to go. 

“When I said I’m into guys sometimes, I meant,” Steve continues, and Eddie holds his breath. “And just so you know, this isn’t just the weed talking, to be perfectly clear. I feel this way when I’m not high, okay? I just happen to be right now while I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Please just tell me. 

“I really want to kiss you.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. 

“But if you don’t feel the same, just tell me, okay? I won’t be mad. I know not all gay guys like every guy in the world, so I get it if you don’t.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“I’d let you kiss me.”

Steve slides down on the bed, no longer propped up against the wall and the pillows, but now laying on his side facing Eddie. He leans forward, just a little bit, hesitant like he isn’t quite sure Eddie wants this. 

At Eddie’s slight nod, Steve’s eyes slip shut and he moves closer again, nose nudging against Eddie’s, foreheads bumping, but not their lips. Not yet. Eddie just stays where he is, letting Steve lead into this with soft, hesitant bumps of their noses. He wonders if Steve’s ever hesitant like this with anyone else, he wonders if Steve’s as nervous as Eddie is right now. 

“You sure?” Steve breathes against his lips. “If you’re not sure, just tell me, we can table this for another time.”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers, a hint of a whine working its way up his throat. “Please.” 

And Steve kisses him, just barely at first, like he’s waiting for Eddie to pull away, but Eddie doesn’t. He won’t. Not even as Steve creates a breath of space between them, his heavy eyelids opening so they can look at each other in the dim lamplight. 

“Eddie,” he breathes like he just can’t believe they’re here. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

And then Steve kisses him again, one hand coming up to brush Eddie’s hair from his face, tucking it tenderly behind his ear as he does it. Steve tastes like weed, but then Eddie does too, and that makes him laugh into Steve’s mouth, just a little chuckle that has Steve pulling away to look at him with confusion furrowing his brow. 

“I’m just happy right now,” Eddie whispers. 

Steve swipes his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, pressing down on the scar that cuts through the middle of it, following the line down and to the left side of Eddie’s jaw. Another press of lips to his, slotting them together once more. It’s not gonna go much further than this, Eddie can tell, but it’s nice. 

“Me too,” Steve whispers. “Are you still gonna be happy in the morning?”

There is no world in which Eddie wouldn’t be happy about kissing Steve Harrington. 

He nods. Steve smiles, pressing it into Eddie’s cheek. 

“I’m really glad you called me,” Steve says again. “Not scared anymore, are you?”

“No,” Eddie answers. “I feel good.”

“Me too,” Steve agrees. 

“Sleepy, though,” Eddie admits. 

He knows Steve is feeling the same way, the way his eyes flutter shut and open slower after each blink. 

“You should sleep,” Steve tells him, nosing at his face again before stealing another kiss. 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Eddie asks. 

Because Steve can say he’s wanted this, he can say it’s not the weed talking, he can ask Eddie if he’ll still be happy in the morning. But none of that means Steve will actually stick around. Eddie’s been hurt too many times by too many people leaving to not worry.

“I’ll be here. Promise.”

“I’m glad I called, too. Just to be clear,” Eddie tells him. 

It earns him another soft kiss, and then Steve’s rolling away. 

“Where’re you going?”

“Thirsty.”

He gets their drinks and the chips from the gas station bag, and passes Eddie’s Mountain Dew over to him before cracking open his can of Coke. 

Eddie has a few sips of his and has to reach over Steve to put it on his nightstand. Fingers curl around his wrist as he draws it back, and Steve tugs him in close again. 

He feels heavy and light all at once, letting himself be moved to Steve’s liking. He ends up with his head on Steve’s chest, Steve playing with the rings on Eddie’s fingers. It’s like they do this all the time, like this isn’t the first time they’ve really hung out post-Vecna. 

It’s easy. 

Maybe that’s why Eddie called Steve in the first place. He makes everything feel a little bit easier, the way he just knows what to do for the people around them. Like getting someone their shoes and paying for their dinner is just second nature to him. 

Steve plays with Eddie’s rings until Eddie can’t stay awake any longer, and maybe he keeps going after Eddie slips away into sleep. If Byers stops by looking to buy, Eddie sleeps right through it. He only wakes briefly when Steve shifts out from under him and comes back a few minutes later, hands smelling like the soap from the bathroom. 

He feels the kiss Steve presses into his hair, smiling to himself in his high-induced sleepy haze as Steve curls up around him again. 

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 7: Revelations

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

contains: bit of angst, fluff, alcohol, smoking, language, mention of past relationship trauma and cheating, tension..., also idk anything about poker but i tried my best 🙏

description: the truth about your past is finally revealed and you and sevika begin to move forward.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous // sevika masterlist

Sevika’s hand drops from her face, revealing eyes that now roam over your figure with a wary gaze.

“Everything ok?”

She looks at you expectantly and while you thought you were prepared for this conversation, there’s no way to predict how it will actually go.

You take a deep breath and decide to rip the band-aid off.

“I need to…tell you something. About what Vi said at dinner that day.”

Sevika’s expression immediately shifts to one of scrutiny as she raises an eyebrow at your bluntness.

“Okay.”

The two of you are only a few feet apart, but it suddenly feels like there are miles of space separating you as Sevika waits for you to continue, arms crossed over her chest. Her curt answer does nothing to quell your nerves but you push on, determined to see this through.

“Part of what she said was true. I was engaged, and it did end very messily, but because my fianceé cheated on me, not the other way around. I’m sure that’s what she told people to keep her reputation intact, but that’s not what happened.”

You watch the woman as you speak, her eyes slightly narrowing while she absorbs the information. Her stoic façade remains intact though, making it impossible to know how she’s taking it. As you’re talking, she continues to stare at you, your stomach twisting in knots as her gaze bores into you, searching for some sign of deception. The truth begins tumbling out and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.

“One day a couple weeks before the wedding, I got an email from the planner pretty late, and I thought it was kind of weird, so I opened it.”

“It was,” you clear your throat to keep it from cracking, “a really long letter telling me that her and Gert were in love, and how she had been telling her for months that she was going to break off the engagement with me but she was waiting for the right time. The planner finally had enough and told me everything.”

Scoffing at how brazen the woman was, you continue.

“I emailed her back immediately saying she was lying and just trying to break up a happy home, and then she sent me screenshots and screen recordings of their conversations.”

At this point, your eyes are starting to water and Sevika looks concerned but doesn’t interrupt.

“Like that wasn’t bad enough, she sent me…pictures, of them together, over a year’s worth.”

The anger in your voice is apparent, your volume increasing as emotion starts to get the better of you. You don’t even notice how tight your fists have clenched until you try to take a breath to steady yourself. Sevika does notice though, her eyes drifting down to your shaking hands, before returning to your face.

“Turns out, she was having an affair with that bitch the entire time. They were already sleeping together before we even got engaged, but Gert had the balls to tell me they were old friends and hire her for our wedding.”

You’re suddenly overly aware of Sevika’s eyes on you, knowing that she’s analyzing every word and movement. She’s yet to say anything, the silence feeling like even longer than it actually is. You press on, knowing it’s too late to turn back now.

“I was a mess after that, I couldn’t even think straight, I locked myself in the guest bedroom and didn’t come out for hours. My friends kept calling, asking me if everything was okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.”

Wiping a tear away, you look down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“I confronted her with the evidence, and she didn’t even deny it. She told me it was a mistake and that she regretted it, but that was obviously a lie.”

Pulling out your phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and log into the email account you haven’t accessed in years.

“I kept all of the emails to this day, I’m not even sure why. No one besides me has ever seen them but I feel like this is important enough to show you.”

Handing the phone to Sevika, she grabs it gingerly as she begins to scroll, absorbing every word on the screen. As she reads over the long-winded exchanges, her face betrays nothing, hard lines and slight wrinkles unmoving. Her eyes burn into the screen, taking in the words as your entire body tenses up. You’ve never felt this vulnerable around anyone, and the thought of her not believing you causes your chest to ache. Luckily, the photos were in a separate thread but this one had all the initial exchanges, including the texts.

Finally, Sevika raises her gaze to you, the eye contact making your heart pound furiously in your chest. She sets your phone on the desk next to her slowly, the metallic sound reverberating through the silent room. Anxiety gets the better of you and you continue spilling all of your thoughts.

“I wanted to explain why I left to her daughter at least, but Gert obviously wouldn’t let me, and what hurt me the most was to have to leave a girl I basically helped raise. She was a little older than Isha when I came into the picture, and we were glued at the hip from the first time we met. Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Her eyes flick between yours, the exact grey of a cloud on the precipice of a storm. You feel as if she’s reading your very soul, everything she needs to know displayed in your desperate face. Taking a deep breath, you look directly at Sevika and let a final sentence fall from your lips.

“I hope you understand that even though my past is complicated, I’m not someone that you or your girls have to keep your distance from.”

Letting out a long sigh, Sevika’s gaze remains firmly planted on you. She knows the look of a heartbroken person well, and she can see the emotion clearly in your eyes. Coupled with the date stamps on those emails, she knows you’re telling the truth. She begins walking over and your anxiety builds until you feel something press into your palm. Looking down, you see that she’s given your phone back but your stomach squirms when she makes no move to distance herself.

You don’t know how to describe the look in Sevika’s eyes but whatever it is causes your stomach to flutter and your spine to tingle. Her hand remains on yours as she speaks, the touch electrifying, causing currents of energy to run through your body.

“You didn’t deserve any of that. If your ex couldn’t see what she had right in front of her, then that’s her loss.”

You open your mouth to speak but words fail you, a shaky breath leaving your chest as you take in what she said. You’ve heard similar statements before, from friends and family, but it felt different coming from Sevika. Everything did.

She continues staring at you intensely, and for a moment, you’re stunned by her focus. She notices your expression and her lips quirk slightly, the most she’s smiled this entire time, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

A heavy thud in the hallway causes both of your heads to snap in the direction of the noise, Sevika taking a step back from you and the bubble of tension now broken.

Powder and Vi walk into view shortly after, sporting matching blushes and nervous smiles.

“Hey guys…”, they say simultaneously.

Sevika shifts to look at the two girls and arches an eyebrow at them, knowing her daughters well.

“How much of that did you two hear?”

Both of them remain silent, shuffling awkwardly and refusing to look at Sevika, or you. The woman next to you sighs and shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest as she waits for an answer, the two girls giving up once Sevika clears her throat. Powder speaks up first, shifting her weight and turning to look at the ground.

“A lot…”

Sevika is scowling now, irritated that they were both eavesdropping on her conversation and ruined the moment you two were having. Anger laced in her voice, she starts scolding them.

“What have I told you about listening in on my private conversations? We’ve talked about boundaries plenty of times before!”

Vi is now looking up at Sevika nervously and responds with a pleading tone.

“I promise it wasn’t on purpose! We were coming back and heard you guys talking and I was gonna walk in like normal but then Powder put her hand over my mouth and pulled me toward the wall cause she wanted to hear what you guys were saying, and then—”

“That’s not true! I grabbed you because I wanted them to keep talking, and good thing I did because I was right, Teach isn’t a cheater!”

Powder rolls her eyes at her sister while you’re standing there dumbfounded and Sevika is fuming. She looks like she’s about to explode, clearly not in the mood for excuses when your voice cuts through the tension, saving the two girls from receiving her wrath.

“It’s alright!” You rush out, holding your hands out as a sign of peace. Sevika’s gaze flicks over to you briefly, a look of confusion flashing on her face, before staring at her daughters again, clearly upset.

“I was hoping to also tell you girls eventually,” with a lot less details, you think, “but you know now, so…it is what it is, I guess.”

A nervous smile spreads across your face as you look between the three of them, hoping this would calm things down between Sevika and the girls.

Sevika’s eyes sharpen at your words but she takes a deep breath, reigning in her temper. It looks like she’s going to say something but decides to remain silent instead, her attention now focused solely on you. Powder and Vi look properly reprimanded, not wanting to cause any more trouble. They exchange a look between each other before Vi speaks up again, her guilt getting the best of her.

“So…Gert was the one that cheated on you.”

Your mouth twists at that, thinking of how to respond. You had planned a very watered down version of the story in case you ever told the girls, exactly because of this. Vi being friends with Gert’s daughter complicated things tenfold, and even though you hated the woman, you would never speak about her to Vi the way you did to Sevika. With the cat now out of the bag, you have no other option but to tell the truth.

“Yeah. I didn’t talk to her friends or family after everything happened, so she must’ve told them a version that didn’t paint her as the bad guy.”

Vi’s head drops to look at her shoes, a shaky exhale leaving her body. She takes a moment to collect herself before looking back up at you, eyes faintly glistening with unshed tears.

“I’m…so sorry. Powder was telling me since the beginning that I had it wrong but I didn’t wanna believe that. I accused you of something you didn’t do and almost ruined your relationship with Sev, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

At the mention of the word relationship, you look around embarrassingly, fidgeting with your clothes while Sevika begins to cough, turning away as she gets it under control. You walk up to Vi and awkwardly place your hand on her shoulder, forcing a smile as you pat it.

“I get it, you were just protecting your family, I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were in your shoes. No hard feelings, I promise.”

The girl nods and shoots you an appreciative half smile before you step away and slide your hands into your back pockets. Powder speaks up a moment later, feeling out the now calm vibe of the room.

“So…does this mean you’re allowed to start coming over for dinner again?”

Glancing at Sevika in your peripheral, your mouth opens before your brain can catch up, heat creeping towards your face.

“I mean, um, that would be more your mom’s decision, so—“

“That’s fine with me.”

Three pairs of eyes dart over to the woman next to you, one with surprise that she answered so quickly, and two with a knowing look at why she did. Sevika’s gaze bounces between all of you, clearing her throat before trying to explain.

“The girls really missed you and they’ve been saving movies to watch in case you came over, so, it only makes sense.”

A bashful smile now adorns your face as you slowly nod, a warmth spreading throughout your chest. You had missed Sevika, of course, but you longed for the days when you felt like another member of her tight knit family. Looking at the woman with a sparkle in your eye, you respond happily.

“Great, that sounds…great.”

Now that the conversation has died down, a bit of an awkward air settles among the room as all of you think about how to segway to another topic. Sevika breaks the silence first, deciding she needs to have a moment to herself after such a heavy conversation.

“So, we should probably head home, Isha’s definitely tried giving Caitlyn another makeover by now and it’s only a matter of time before she wears her down.”

You chuckle at that, imagining the scenario and remembering when Isha did something similar to you.

“Yeah, of course. See you guys tomorrow then?”

Sevika weakly nods as Powder walks over and hugs you tightly, glad that everyone now knows what she felt all along.

“Come over soon, okay?”

Pulling back from the hug, you look at Powder and smile.

“You got it, kid.”

The teenager squeals as she moves towards the door where Sevika and Vi are now standing. You look at both of them before landing on Sevika who has a ghost of a smile on her face as she tells you “Have a good night, miss.”

Smiling, you return the gesture before she walks out, Powder and Vi following, the older of the two smiling at you and sheepishly waving before disappearing.

Now alone, you let out a deep sigh, your body suddenly feeling tired. The conversation went better than you expected, minus the girls overhearing, but all of the anxiety surrounding the situation left you exhausted. You slowly gather your things, thinking about where things are headed from here. Sevika was okay with you coming around them again, and as much as you wished you could be satisfied with that, you wanted…more.

Groaning, you start rubbing your temples, feeling a headache come on. Telling yourself you only wanted to be friends worked when you were unsure if she would believe you about the Gert situation, but now that she had, it was only going to get harder and harder to fool yourself. You decide to head home and see if your roommates are there for you to bounce your thoughts off of, needing to know if you are as crazy as you feel.

Your drive home is short and blissfully quiet, with your thoughts beginning to run amok. You think about what Sevika told you, about your ex not deserving you, and your mind desperately tries to not get ahead of itself. You can’t go a second without thinking about the soft expression on her face, your feelings threatening to overwhelm you.

Unfortunately, the house seems to be empty when you arrive. Tossing your keys into the bowl, you kick off your shoes and walk into the living room, collapsing face first into a couch cushion. You roll onto your back, clutching a pillow as you replay the entire afternoon in your head. Would something have happened if the girls hadn’t walked in? Sevika was never one to do something accidental, she was a very deliberate woman, and the way she was touching your hand…

Your thoughts are interrupted by soft footsteps approaching the living room. You sit up slightly to see your roommate walking in with headphones on and looking down at her phone. After yelling her name a couple of times, that fails to get her attention so you decide to throw a pillow at her.

“Holy shit!”

She screams as she yanks her headphones off and clutches her chest, breathing heavily.

“I didn’t see you under all that, what the fuck!”

You’re laughing now, hands up to show her you meant no harm.

“I’m sorry! I was calling you but I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

She playfully rolls her eyes as she plops down next to you, leaning her head back on the couch and clutching her forehead.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“My bad.”

Leaning your head on her shoulder, you squeeze her thigh apologetically. After a minute, you sit back up and turn your body towards her.

“So…I did what you said and showed Sevika the texts.”

Her eyes widen as she puts her phone down, giving you her undivided attention.

“Oh shit, how did that go?”

“Really well, actually. She didn’t say anything when I was explaining, even when I showed her the emails, but at the end, she told me that I didn’t deserve what happened and that if Gert couldn’t see what she had, then it was her loss.”

Your friend gasps as she clutches your hand.

“Wait, that’s really good!”

You look down at your lap bashfully, absorbing her excitement.

“And then she kind of held my hand when she gave my phone back.”

That gets a very excited scream from your friend.

“Girl, this is great news, she wants you!”

Scratching at your neck, you continue explaining what happened after that.

“The only thing is, her daughters overheard our conversation.”

That instantly calms her down and she’s now looking at you with a confused expression.

“What?! How?”

“They had left to go look at something and when they got back, Powder kept Vi in the hallway so we could keep talking, then something must’ve fallen cause there was a loud noise and they walked in all embarrassed.”

At this point your friend’s eyes are wide with surprise, not expecting your conversation to end like that. She sits in silence for a second, mulling over everything you said before raising a questioning brow at you.

“So, they know everything?”

“Most of it,” You shrug, now biting your lip.

“More than I would’ve liked them to find out, for sure.”

“Well, maybe it's a good thing, right? They’re old enough to understand things like that.”

Your friend tries her best to reassure you and you’re grateful for it, knowing how you can sometimes spiral.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The two of you continue talking for well over an hour, your friend eventually grabbing two glasses of wine to relax among all the news. You vent about how nervous you were showing Sevika the emails and both of you rehash old relationship worries. By the end of the conversation, you feel a bit more confident about the situation.

“So you’re definitely in the clear to get in with her now.”

Blowing out a puff of air, a smile cracks through your attempt at nonchalance and you attempt to hide it by covering your face.

“Ugh, it’s been so long since I’ve had a crush, I feel like a teenager again.”

“Isn’t it kind of fun though? Especially with someone that looks like her.”

You push her shoulder at that, both of you laughing.

“I tried for a while to tell myself friendship was enough, but…I like her.”

“Aww, of course you do!”

She wraps you in her arms, rubbing your back.

“I’m so happy for you, I know this weighed on you a lot. You deserve to be happy and I’m glad it’s finally starting to happen.”

Tucking your face into her shoulder, your eyes begin to get misty. As much as you’ve tried telling yourself that over the last few years, it feels like it’s starting to become reality.

“I really hope so.”

At her house, Sevika is having a similar conversation on the phone with Vander. Standing in the garage, she’s smoking a cigaratte and blowing the smoke towards the cracked garage door as her best friend is giving her his thoughts on the situation.

“It sounds bad to say, but I’m glad Vi was wrong. I really like that girl for you, Sev, I got a good feeling about her.”

Chuckling, she shakes her head as she brushes her hair out of her face. She didn’t tell Vander any details out of respect for you, only that the situation’s been cleared up and you’re back in her good graces.

“God, I thought I was out of the game for good. I’m too grown for shit like this.”

Vander belly laughs at that.

“These things happen when you least expect it, Sev. Take it in stride.”

Putting out her cigarette, she mumbles an agreement and ends the call a few minutes later, deciding she wants some reading time before bed, thoughts of you plaguing her mind the entire way.

That week ends up being extremely busy for you and Sevika, so much so that you haven’t been able to have dinner at her house. That changes Friday afternoon when you get a voice note from her asking if you’d like to come over later for dinner. It takes everything in you not to answer too eagerly, replying with a calm That sounds good :).

Now with that to look forward to, the rest of the day breezes by and eventually it’s time for Powder to get picked up after working on her project. Right on cue, Sevika walks in, and you have to fight to keep your eyes in your head.

Her trusty leather jacket makes a reappearance, over a fitted white henley you’ve never seen, buttons undone just enough to tease a perfectly sculpted clavicle. Paired with a loose fit pair of jeans and black combat boots, she looks the very picture of heartthrob.

Powder drops something on the floor and it’s then that you realize you’ve been staring unabashedly. Clearing your throat, Sevika walks over to you unexpectedly, carrying something in her hand. When you see that it’s a helmet, you swear you almost faint. Of course she has a goddamn motorcycle.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Sevika is wearing a mostly neutral expression, only a hint of a smile playing at her lips, and you’re trying your hardest to match it.

“I know I invited you for dinner tonight, and that’s still on, but me, Vander and Silco were gonna have our poker night afterwards. If you’re interested.”

The moment hangs in the air as she waits for your answer. You’ve never mentioned being into cards or anything like that, but she hopes you’ll accept the offer anyway.

“I’d love to.”

A smile lights up your face, your hands clasped in front of you as you continue. So much for keeping it cool.

“I’m not very good at poker, but that sounds like fun.”

Sevika lets out an internal sigh of relief, even though you hadn’t yet turned down an activity she mentioned, she was still nervous, especially because other people were involved.

“Great. We’re gonna head to the house from here, but you come over whenever you’re ready. And you don’t have to bring anything this time, really.”

You cluck your tongue, looking at her with a mischievous expression.

“I’ll see about that.”

Sevika bites her lip, looking away from you but the action captures all of your attention. When she turns back to you, your staring contest with her mouth ends and you suddenly become interested in something on the wall.

Powder walks over at that very moment, a knowing glint in her eye that you and Sevika both pretend not to notice.

“I’m ready, mom.”

Nodding at her daughter, Sevika moves to step towards you before correcting herself and pretending she was just shuffling her feet.

“Right. So, we will see you in a bit?”

“Yup! I’ll walk with you guys, I’m ready to head out too.”

Truthfully, you could’ve stayed a few more minutes to organize your desk before Monday but the chance to see Sevika drive off on her motorcycle was too enticing to pass up.

You walk towards the door with your bags, shutting off all of the lights and holding it open for Powder and Sevika to walk out, locking it behind you. When the three of you reach the exit to the parking lot, Sevika pushes it open and stands off to the side.

“After you.”

Powder can only shake her head, heading out first before you brush past Sevika, eyes almost fluttering shut at her aroma. Once in the lot, you see that she parked directly next to you and walk up to her bike, admiring the way it shines.

“It’s beautiful.”

You look back at Sevika, who looks very proud.

“Thank you. Finished fixing her up a month ago, but it’s been raining too much to ride until this week.”

She walks over to the back of the motorcycle and pops the seat, grabbing another helmet and placing it on Powder’s head. As she does, her jacket lifts and a sliver of her toned lower stomach is exposed where her shirt folded under itself.

After situating her own helmet, Sevika turns to you to say goodbye when she sees the dazed look on your face. Still staring, you’re playing with the car keys in your hand, the most distracted you’ve ever been.

“You okay?”

That instantly snaps you out of your daze, flames licking at your face.

“Yeah! Just thinking about something I have to do before going over.”

You smile at the woman, hopefully distracting her from the fact that you were just openly ogling her. Again. Behind her, you see Powder covering her mouth, most likely hiding a laugh, and groan to yourself.

“Okay then, drive safe.”

She swings her leg over the seat, Powder getting on behind her as Sevika turns the bike on and revs the engine. Nodding at you once, she pulls the visor of her helmet down and drives off, leaving you behind to collect yourself.

“Shit.”

When you arrive at her house a short while later, you make quick work of getting to the porch, eager to get out of the cold. Ringing the doorbell once, only a few seconds pass before the door opens and Vi is standing before you.

“Oh, hi Vi.”

You smile at the girl before she ushers you inside, offering to take your coat. After handing it to her, she sees the bottle in your hand and asks if you want her to grab it from you.

Laughing lightly, you tell her, “No, that’s okay, I don’t want your mom to think I’m giving you something to drink.”

You quickly add on, “We’ll wait until after she goes to bed,” with a wink.

Vi actually chuckles, and you feel proud. You definitely have to build a rapport with her the way you have with her sisters, but you decide to start right away. She leads you into the kitchen where the table is fully set, and a memory of the last time you were here hits you like a train. Clearing your head, you look around for Sevika before seeing her walking in your direction.

Before she can reach you, you extend your hands, presenting her favorite whiskey.

“You didn’t.”

A smile disguising itself as shyness spreads across your face as you reply.

“Of course I did, I never agreed to come empty handed.”

Shaking her head as she takes it from you, Vander and Silco walk over, shaking your hand as you greet each other.

“Good to see you again— Oh!”

Vander reaches for the bottle that Sevika is cradling, grabbing it and inspecting the label.

“Sev, you didn’t say she had such good taste.”

He smirks at her and you pretend not to notice the way she looks down, avoiding your eyes.

“Easy, babe.”

Silco rubs Vander’s shoulder as he directs him towards the table where the girls are starting to sit down. When they notice you, they greet you with hugs, Isha pulling you to sit next to her. Even Caitlyn openly waves to you, no longer worried about Vi’s glare.

Everyone takes their places and starts serving themselves, conversation flowing easily. You spend the first few minutes a bit anxious that something similar to last time will happen, but eventually, that feeling is replaced by a relaxed one.

When dinner ends, the girls head to Powder’s room and you head to the couch, chatting with Vander and Silco as Sevika cleans up the kitchen. A few minutes later, she walks over holding the bottle you brought and a deck of cards.

“Who’s ready to lose?”

Smirking at her two best friends, her eyes land on you and her gaze softens just enough to be noticeable. You stand and lightly stretch your limbs, trying to expel a bit of nervous energy that returned with Sevika’s presence.

“Take it easy on me, okay, public school teachers don’t make much, I promise.”

Vander cackles like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and the two of you follow Sevika and Silco to the garage where the table’s already set up. Taking your seats, the two husbands sit across from each other, already sizing each other up and trying to psych each other out.

Hearing music suddenly playing, you turn around to see Sevika fiddling with a stereo system, holding a CD case. When she’s done, she strolls over and takes her seat across from you, reaching behind herself to set the case back on the shelf.

“Hope you like Coldplay.”

“You a big fan?”

Two groans come from the men on either side of you, confusing you.

“Please don’t get her started. She’s dragged us with her to see them live six different times. I like them, don’t get me wrong, but six is excessive, they only have so many songs!”

Silco’s explanation makes you giggle while it gets an eye roll from Sevika. Looking towards her, your curiosity begins to grow.

“You like them that much?”

The woman splays her hands across her thighs and shrugs.

“Their music’s gotten me through a lot. I haven’t been able to see them the last few times they were here, but I still listen to them all the time.”

Bobbing your head, you think it’s endearing how much she likes them and decide to indulge her.

“That’s really nice, actually. I’ve never been able to see them live, but I’ve heard great things.”

Her gaze flicks up to you, a hopeful look in it.

“You’re a fan?”

Shaking your head side to side, you tell her, “Not as much as you, but I listen to them often enough.”

A shy smile creeps up her face and she looks down at her hands as she begins shuffling the cards.

“That’s cool.”

Vander and Silco are watching the entire interaction with rapt attention, they knew Sevika had a thing for you, but this was more than they expected. Standing up, Vander grabs the whiskey from behind you and raises it to get everyone’s attention.

“Drink, anyone?”

Sevika and Silco both nod and Vander shifts his gaze to you. Deciding it’s a special occasion, you agree and he heads to the bar next to the fridge to retrieve some glasses. When he returns, he sets one down in front of each of you, pouring a generous amount in the others until he reaches you. He gets to less than half of what’s in the other glasses before Sevika cuts him off.

“Not too much, Van, you trying to kill her?”

Looking at your drink, it’s definitely more than you would’ve poured but you know you can handle yourself.

“Sorry! I forget not everyone drinks like a mechanic.”

Smiling apologetically, Vander caps the bottle and puts it away, sitting back down and looking at Sevika.

“Alright, let’s get started then.”

Sevika looks up at you through her bangs as she deals the cards.

“How much you know about poker?”

Glancing around, you clench your hands, trying to not seem nervous.

“Mm, not much, to be honest. There’s 5 cards per player, right? And the goal is to have the best hand possible.”

The three other people at the table internally chuckle at your naivety. They're going to eat you alive.

Sevika agrees to let you have a couple practice rounds so you can get a feel for the game, and only when you insist on playing for real does she stop holding back.

“If you say so.”

She smirks as she deals again, she almost felt bad for how this was going to go, but this was your choice and she was going to give you what you asked for. You end up with a straight, and though it was better than everyone was expecting, it wasn’t good enough to win. Huffing, you sit up in your chair as you take a swig of your whiskey, the burn in your throat only spurring you on.

“I think I got the hang of it now.”

Laughing under her breath, Sevika thinks the determination on your face is adorable, and the alcohol in her system isn’t helping. Going again, you end up with the same hand as before, more and more chips slowly disappearing from your stack.

The drinks are serving their purpose now, jokes and laughs coming out much easier than before. You find out that Vander and Silco have been together almost ten years, their anniversary coming this summer. They tell you the story of how they met at work, and you coo as they relay the details of how it was mainly Sevika’s doing. She makes a couple comments towards you that could be taken as flirtatious, but you pass them off as effects of the alcohol.

When your foot bumps hers, you shoot her a quick apology, and she accepts it with a small smile. When it happens again a couple of minutes later, you apologize again but she only nods, pinning you to your seat with her gaze. You try to focus on the story Silco is telling, something about a vacation, but your breath catches in your throat when you feel two legs slide on either side of yours, trapping your calf between them.

Quickly glancing at Sevika, she’s no longer looking at you but at Silco, fully engaged in his story. You move to pull away from her, sure it was an accident, when her grip tightens and she hooks one foot behind yours, leaving no room for doubt. She’s definitely flirting with you.

Alarm bells start going off in your head, you never considered what you would actually do in the event that Sevika returned the sentiment. The two men are seemingly unaware of what’s going on under the table and you’d like to keep it that way. You turn your leg to the right, pressing it into Sevika to test out her reaction. You’re rewarded with a sharp inhale that you only notice because your eyes are locked onto her full lips.

The moment unravels when you hear Vander call your name, forcing your gaze to the expectant look on his face.

“Sorry, what was that last part?”

“I was asking if you’ve ever ridden a motorcycle before.”

Sevika suddenly notices the lack of music playing and gets up to change CDs, taking the warmth against your lower half with her.

“Oh, yeah, um, no, no I haven’t.”

Giving him a tight smile, Sevika returns with a cigar between her lips, offering the box around the table while Vander keeps talking.

“Ah, it’s amazing. The three of us used to do an annual bike ride through the country, just us and the open road for weeks. Nothing like it.”

After everyone but you takes one, she walks over to the garage door to crack it open, making sure to turn up the space heater before sitting back down. Sevika clips her cigar and lights it, blowing a perfect ring on the first try. The alcohol is definitely affecting you now because as you watch the smoke leave her mouth, you wish you were in its place.

You decide you need to sober up a bit before your inside thoughts make their way out of your mouth. Standing up with the slightest wobble, the entire table stops what they’re doing and looks at you with varying degrees of amusement.

“I need to use the ladies’ room, be right back.”

Walking into the house and heading straight for the bathroom, you shut the door and lock it before turning to the sink and pulling the handle for cold water. Cupping your hands under the faucet, you rub the cool liquid over your face and take a deep breath. You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the slight glossiness in your eyes and giggle to yourself. Was this really happening?

After a few minutes of breathing exercises, and actually peeing, you feel a bit more yourself, opening the door before immediately running into something.

“Oh shit, sorry, I was just about to knock.”

You step back in a daze before your eyes focus to see a sheepish Sevika standing in the doorway.

“You’ve been gone for a bit so I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

Her hands are stuffed into her pockets and she’s looking at you with worry etched into the slight crease between her brows. You start to feel unsteady again, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I’m okay, just needed to wake up a little. That whiskey is stronger than it looks.”

A chuckle escapes her parted lips and the piercing underneath them suddenly looks enticing. Stepping forward to place a foot between hers, mirroring her move from earlier, you lean in the slightest bit before watching her eyes drop to your mouth as she replies.

“Yeah, it’s kicked my ass more than once…”

“Mm, I thought you could handle your liquor.”

Both of you continue to lessen the gap, pulled together as if by magnets.

“I can, but sometimes I like to test my limits.”

“Is that so?”

Your chests are almost touching, heavy breaths mixing into the space between you. Right when you’re about to close the distance, a door down the hall creaks open and you hear giggling, footsteps coming closer until they stop right outside the bathroom.

“Oh shit.”

Standing straight up, Sevika is glaring at Vi and Caitlyn as you lean your forehead against the doorframe, sure this is some sort of punishment from a past life.

“Where do you girls think you’re going?”

It’s then that you turn to see the keys dangling from Vi’s hand.

“Uh, we were just gonna go to the store for some snacks. For the movie we’re all watching?”

Both pairs of eyes flicker between you and Sevika, cogs turning as they realize they just walked in on something.

“But we can head back to the room, no worries, we can watch the movie without them.”

They turn back the way they came, mumbling apologies as Sevika hangs her head and groans.

“I just want five minutes without interruptions, that’s it.”

You giggle at her confession, though you wished for the same. Taking it as a sign to head back to the garage, you squeeze past Sevika, fingers brushing hers and you could almost swear you feel them twitch.

Walking back to the table, you feel Sevika’s eyes on your back the entire way and only because you reach Vander and Silco’s line of sight do you not turn around and pull her towards you. She slowly takes her seat in front of you, making a show of it because she knows you’re watching.

“Last round before we call it a night?”

Vander looks around the table to sense the vibe. He and Silco have been waiting for an opening to leave without interrupting whatever was going on with you and Sevika for over half an hour. You smile and nod, thinking it’s probably late for them to still be awake. Sensing that it’s finally time to execute your plan, you calmly call out, “Winner take all?”

You’re met with three confused glances. The girl who’s been losing all night wants to bet everything she has left? It isn’t a lot, they’ll admit but never one to pass up an opportunity to make some money, they all agree.

Sevika deals, a curious gleam in her eye as she watches you. Not seeing any tells, she focuses on her hand and looks around the table, confident with what she has.

“Fuck.”

A groan leaves Vander as he pushes his cards into the middle of the table.

“Fold.”

Crossing his arms and finishing his drink, he sets it onto the table with some force, more annoyed that he lost to his husband than anything. Silco grins, even if he doesn’t win the hand, beating Vander is enough for him. He lays his cards on the table with a flourish, calling out “Full house, baby.”

A huff escapes Sevika as she looks down at her hand.

“Damn. I only have a…” setting down her hand slowly to build suspense, “straight flush.”

Once you suck your teeth and sigh, Sevika grins and starts collecting the chips on the table, pulling the piles towards herself before asking what you have.

“Ugh, I don’t remember what it’s called.”

Setting down the cards one by one, each reveal causes everyone’s jaws to drop a little more as realization settles in.

“A royal flush?”

A wicked smile spreads onto your face as you sit back, absorbing the big reveal. Exhaling dramatically, you lean forward after a moment and start grabbing your winnings, the only noise in the room being the clack of plastic chips and the muted soundtrack of Coldplay.

“I can’t believe you just hustled me.”

Sevika is looking at you with a shocked, yet proud, look on her face and all you do is shrug.

“I can’t believe you just let it happen.”

A low chuckle leaves Vander as he scans his best friend’s face, thinking She may have finally met her match.

As you all stand from the table, he pulls out his wallet, grabbing your winnings and handing them to you before you raise a hand up, declining.

“No need. Seeing the look on all of your faces was payment enough.”

He claps a hand on your shoulder, peering past you before speaking.

“I really do like this one.”

He finishes his sentence with a pointed look towards the woman, emphasizing his comment from their earlier conversation.

“We’re gonna head out, don’t worry about locking up Sev, I still have my key. You two have a good night, now.”

Shaking his head and laughing to himself, Vander walks inside, closely followed by Silco, the two of them discussing their admiration for your style of play. Once you and Sevika are alone, you swing back to face her, much more confident than you were upon arriving earlier.

“Next time, we’re playing for real money. Now that you know how good I am and all that.”

Grinning at the woman in front of you, the look on her face can only be described as awe.

“I don’t enjoy being tricked, you know that?”

Glancing around the room, you purposely avoid eye contact for a few seconds before looking at Sevika.

“I get that, but I think you like a challenge.”

A sharp exhale is the only response you get before you reach out, hand grazing hers with a purpose. You were just full of surprises today.

The door to the house suddenly opens, revealing a tired Isha who's rubbing her eyes and carrying her stuffed monkey towards you both. Trying to blink away the sleep, she looks toward an exasperated Sevika, no clue what she’s just done. When she signs Can I sleep with you? I had a bad dream, the woman can only sigh. Isha’s nightmares could get pretty intense so she instantly feels bad and scoops the girl into her arms.

Are the others asleep?

After nodding, the girl tucks her face into Sevika’s neck, already starting to doze off.

“That’s definitely my cue to leave.”

You step towards the two and gently lay a hand on Isha’s back, feeling the warmth exuding from her small frame. Looking at Sevika, you give her a small smile before telling her you’ll see her later and moving in the direction of the door. She vigorously shakes her head before stepping into your path.

“Let me walk you out, at least.”

Agreeing to that, you make your way inside to the front, slipping your shoes on, then your coat, before facing Sevika. She’s sporting the slightest pout and you almost reach over Isha to kiss it away.

“See you next week, yeah?”

Nodding with a tired sigh, she looks at you before moving to embrace you as best she can. You take what you can get, wrapping one arm around her neck and the other around Isha, reaching for the woman's shoulder. After reluctantly letting go, you open the door, Sevika holding it as you walk out and angling her body to shield Isha from the cold.

“Text me when you get home, please,” she calls out as you head down the driveway.

Turning around, you give her a thumbs up, too wired to give her a verbal response. Once you’re in the car, Sevika closes the door but continues to watch from the window while you warm up your car, taking off a couple minutes later with a frazzled wave.

The drive home is silent. You couldn’t even bring yourself to play any music, the replay of the night making plenty of noise in your head. Only realizing how late it is when you arrive and see the lack of any lights inside, you tiptoe through the quiet house, reaching your room and closing the door as gently as possible.

Leaning against the door, you let out the breath you’ve been holding since leaving Sevika’s house. We almost kissed. Twice. You cover your face with your hands as you let out a muffled shriek, giddy and excited for what’s to come for the first time in a very long while.

taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp @savedforlaterr @lia-winther @bebadoobie @nymanas @dyketoast

[your-local-depressed-fangirl]

Everyone in camp half blood with a functioning set of eyes could see the way Will looked at Nico di Angelo—except Nico because of course he had to be oblivious.

“William Andrew Solace this needs to stop. It’s sad and pathetic really,” Kayla confronted as she, Will, and Austin sat at the Apollo table in the dinning hall and she caught Will staring at Nico from across the pavilion.

Austin took a big gulp of water to deal with the dryness in his throat caused by the reeds on his saxophone. “You can say that again,” he grumbled.

“I’m not being pathetic!” Will defended.

“Keep saying that, maybe it’ll come true,” Austin teased.

“Rude,” Will quipped back.

“Okay but you seriously need to do something! It’s sad to watch! You were literally just staring at him!” Kayla points out.

“I was not!” Will denied indignantly at having been cornered. 

“Bro, two versus one. You were gawking,” Austin butted in, putting emphasis on both syllables of “gawking”.

Will huffs and crosses his arms before rolling his eyes and pouting like a small child. A thing he had done many times at that table, except the majority of the time it had been when he was really little, before he was even a teen, and his older brothers were there teasing him and annoying him. 

“Would be a pity if I were to scream “You like Nico di Angelo?!” loud enough for the entire pavilion to hear…” Kayla indirectly threatens although some of the dramatic effect is lost because her mouth was full with lucky charms which had stained her tongue a teal-ish blue.

Will’s eyes went wide. She would not! “Absolutely not! You are not doing that!”

“She might have to if you don’t do something,” Austin defends. “That seems like the only way if you don’t do it."

Will was about to reply when Kayla spoke, “Look you don’t even have to drop to your knees with flowers and with a poem to declare your undying love for him. You can just find a way to figure out his sexuality.”

Will sighed. “He’s from the 40’s…”

“So? He could still be into guys,” Kayla pointed out. “Would probably have a lot of internal homophobia to unpack but still plausible.”

Will frowned. “How do I even go about asking that kinda thing without it coming off weird? Like oh Nico, please tell me all your opinions on dating other men and if you would do it!” Will acted out twirling a strand of hair around his finger.

“I mean you could play 20 questions? And play it off as something you have done to all your friends?” Austin suggested with a shrug.

“You’re a genius! Will you will be doing that after breakfast,” Kayla decides in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Fine…” Will grumbled.

“And that way you can keep your dignity and not expose yourself even though it’s so obvious,” Kayla reasoned.

“It wasn’t obvious you two just know me well,” Will insisted.

“No I’m 90% sure everyone but Nico knows,” Austin disagreed.

“Only?!” Kayla questioned. “More like 95% minimum.”

“Haha, funny, funny, can we eat in peace?” Will fake laughed.

“Yeah you can resume gawking at Nico,” Kayla waves him off.

Will starts to defend himself, “I was n—“

“You so were,” Austin cut him off.

“Fuck off,” Will demanded donning his signature pout again.

Kayla and Austin sigh in unison and have to try really hard not to laugh when Will’s eyes wander back over the the Hades table.

“He’s something alright…”

After dinner when Will was sorting through mind numbing, boring paperwork his mind drifted back to the words of his little siblings. They were no wise old sages but they had a point. 

Will needed to man up and just ask Nico out.

Yet when Nico di Angelo walked through the door of the infirmary he couldn’t. Will couldn’t even bring himself to scold Nico for being reckless and acquiring a long cut on his palm that was gushing out blood. 

“Not gonna chat with me this time?” Nico let a sly little smile cross his face. “That’s a welcome change.” He teased.

Will sent a glare towards Nico’s drooping brown eyes. “You love it when I talk. I’ve just got something on my mind.” Will’s voice sounded off to himself. He sounded almost the same but slightly nervous about talking to Nico and deploying the plan to figure out if Nico was into men.

“Hmm,” Nico pretended to ponder, “maybe I do.”

Will rolled his eyes “Give me your fucking hand you cluts,” he demanded.

Nico complied handing his hand over to which Will instantly started doing his thing. Healing the cut by first cleaning it and then beginning to hum a hymn to heal the cut.

“Y’know that was a yes right? I know I can send sorta mixed signals about… well everything but I do like hearing you talk,” Nico clarified after a few moments of silent concentration from Will.

Will paused his hymn to respond. “I appreciate you clarifying.” Will said softly. “Though, I feel like this is an insult to all the time I spent learning Nico lingo,” Will joked.

Nico rolled his eyes. “This is what I get asking my little sunshine medic to talk to me.”

Will’s heart couldn’t help but flutter at the nickname. “Yes it is,” Will confirmed to keep up the chat and to distract himself from the lingering nerves.

Nico shook his head lightly. 

Will held his breath. Right here was his chance. A natural pause in conversation her could use to swoop in an ask if Nico wanted to play twenty questions—

“Infirmary been busy today?” Nico asked.

“Oh, eh not really,” Will mumbles. Too slow.

“Ah so I’m the major annoyance for today.” Nico chuckled.

“You’re not as annoying as you are think Nico.” Will held Nico’s injured hand carefully as he gently pressed a cloth to the bleeding. “I like having you around. Preferably not injured.”

Nico chewed on the inside of his mouth contemplating how to respond. In the weeks after the battle of Gaia he’d still not gotten used to how straightforward Will was with him. Part of that was probably exaggerated to make sure Nico didn’t leave camp forever like he was going to. Instead of a verbal response Nico just set his good hand—his left hand—on the crown of Will’s head compressing the curls there. Pat. Pat.

Will snickered. “Really Neeks? I may look like a human golden retriever but petting me like a dog?” 

Nico flushed and retracted his hand from Will’s hair.

Will’s lips twitched in an effort to stay down as he resumed tending to Nico’s hand pouring a bit of nectar over the cut.

“Wanna play a game di Angelo?” Will asked quietly as he finished wrapping Nico’s hand up.

“Sure.” Nico shrugged. “What game?”

“Let’s play twenty questions,” Will mumbled, going over the lines he had rehearsed.

Nico paused for a second while Will panicked for a brief second before Nico asked, “Alright, um, what’s your favorite color?”

“Triangle! Do you like boys?” 

Smooth. Very smooth Solace.

“Um…” Nico hesitated, drawing his shoulders in towards his clavicle. “Yeah,” he admitted. 

Will’s jaw dropped slightly, completely against his will. 

Nico shot back a glare. “You got a problem Solace?” 

“No, no,” Will protested. “I was just curious captain clumsy.”

“I’m not that clumsy,” Nico rebutted.

“Sure thing di Angelo. Sure.”

[chidoroki]

Wind Breaker S2EP4

aka: i'm literally on cloud nine right now

Every boy in this darn class is adorable.

RIP to that one dude caught in Anzai’s headlock for like two straight minutes.

“He said he came from out of town, so I thought he’d live a but further. I guess him entering school and his family moving coincided?” “Well, we’ll know when we get there.” The fact we’re at 177 chapters and still dunno the full story about Sakura’s family situation is kinda wild.

Nirei’s panicked screams would be loud enough to wake up anyone.

Pfftt stooppp, Suo’s little surprised face upon seeing Sakura appear is hilarious.

Damn, the anime does real well showing how dark and dreary Sakura’s place looks. I never got that kinda feeling in the manga with how it lacks color.

“I’ve always dealt with crap like this on my own. I’ll get better once I sleep it off. It’s not a big deal.” Aw baby, noooooo! That’s not a good thing!

I love how gentle Suo looks, like you know he desperately wants to help Sakura but he wouldn’t push him to accept it.

Oh, I like how they reflected Suo in Nirei’s phone like that so we could see that brief smile.

The queen has arrived.. lord help me I am not ready for the scenes to come.

Our boy really has such a great groups of friends the way they all bought something for him to help him feel better and take care of that fever.

Why did they go for such horror movie vibes with how Kotoha shows up at his door with the weird first pov and that scream?? My god, his shocked face is priceless!!

Oh thank god he does have working lights in this place at least.

Fffucckk man, I love all of this and ch57, like all Sakura wanted to do when Nirei & Suo came by was to curl up in bed and pass out, but with Kotoha he’s actually engaging in conversation and eating. Yeah he perked up because she brought over a hot meal and our boy loves to eat but as manga!Suo says “while he’s weak right now, he can’t use his mental or physical strength to handle anything that’s not normal for him,” and this entire scene with Kotoha is nothing but normal for him. Sakura’s always been alone so having friends suddenly start caring for him is weird and he shies away from it all, and even though he and Kotoha act all friendly, all the advice and meals she constantly gives him is just status quo at this point for their interactions. He’s used to it and doesn’t feel pressured to act any certain way nor does he feel a need to act strong around her all the time unlike everyone else, which is why I think Suo let her visit Sakura because he knew that too. I doubt he would allow anyone bother or overwhelm Sakura when he’s supposed to be resting despite their desire to help him, such as their entire class, and Sakura’s not even mad that she’s here now and I just really really love this whole scene between them okay?? I love these two. Fuck it, I ship ‘em. I doubt any kind of romantic love is gonna come out of this manga but this trusting and respectable relationship they got going on is precious to me alright. Let me have this because god knows my girl doesn't show up nearly as much as I'd want her to.

Just wanna let y’all know that while I was rambling I had the ep paused on Kotoha slapping the cool patch on Sakura’s head. Fun little frame to pause at.

“Worried about the, ‘I like my buddies now so my body freezes up’ issue?” I shall never get tired of the way she teases him nor those faces she makes when doing so!!

Mmmmmkay, girl, why must you be pretty at every angle.. I swear.

“So why don’t you think of a way to get around it?” “A way to get around it?” “Like delegating the people around you who can act in your behalf.” I feel all weak and soft that he takes her suggestions so seriously. Lift your head up and properly look at people? Done. Learn and use people’s names? Done. Now onto the next step of becoming a good friend and leader.

“There are only so many things one human can do in a limited amount of time.” I really love this line from her too.

“Well, even then.. relying on others, or asking favors from them, may be a bit scary at first.” *shakes manga* Tell me her full story!! Why does she say this?? What has my girl gone through to become so wise?? I know it's all about Sakura's growth and the boys fighting all the time but give me more of our best girl too!!

It feels kinda unfair calling Kotoha best girl when she's literally the only one who shows up frequently and matters but screw it! She's more than earned the title! Aaaahhh!

Teeheee, Kaji’s face when Sakura requests to see him.

A flustered Kaji is an adorable sight to behold.

I love his strange way of trying to explain stuff to Sakura with the coffee and fake ghost.

Kaji being the best senpai!

Not the triple cut on Kaji punching Umemiya smack dab in the face.. HAAHAA!!!

His quick run away too!! God I love this boy so much!!

Aww the flashback of Hiragi taking Kaji to the rooftop to chat.. my boy really learned from the best.

Goddamn, why must the chillest ep be my favorite? I feel so giddy.

[hcgossips]

Viscuso was always described as, shown as and acting like a redneck sl*t. And, they never made a point in denying it. She made sure to perform it, while Cavill proudly escorted her to promote his image. Instead of having this woman presented as a serious respected professional, they set up a circus with malicious (as someone called, here), immoral and unethical stragegies to control damages, pretending she was staging the h**ker, as if making fun of the impression she caused on his fans.

Cavill once said: “You are the reflection of the people you surround yourself with”.  I guess now, we better know what Character he reflects.His ethical and moral standards are seasonal, according to convenience. And, this entire shenanigan tried to minimize the bl*w j*b photo effect so Viscuso’s promiscuous rep (and redneck, vulgar style) wouldn’t reflect on him, by pretending they didn’t care for the bad publicity, when being unethical trying to make it go away. Well, it didn’t work.

All Viscuso managed to do (actually, Cavill, for she doesn’t really care) was to reinforce the rep she has and to sell a tramp, instead of an exec producer or a VP - professionals that would surely, never get involved in a mummery like that nor would antagonize fans unethically. And, all Cavill managed to do was self-destructive. Congrats to the “brilliant” couple formed by Mr. Stubborn and Miss (or Mrs.) Bl*w J*b for the worst PR stunt ever and for destroying Cavill’s image.

This obviously had a lot of participation of Viscuso’s friends, especially two males (Not the boys from Florida Coffee Shop, which also helped) and some females, apparently from Only Fans. Cavill definitely fell low to need the help of these kind of people. And, this supposed help was so pathetic and amateur, that it was pitiful and his disgrace. But, it only happened, ‘cause he accepted escorting a promiscuous exhibitionist and agreed to stage a plot, while being manipulated.

Viscuso released that bl*w j*b photo and staged the victim to gain his empathy, sympathy and to manipulate him to continue with the (whose?) plan, while managing to be involved with him. And the duck fell for it, thinking the decisions were his, when he was being led to a trap. He probably got sexually involved to create intimacy so he could try to convince his fans the lie was real. How pitiful what Cavill became.

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt the spiraling upwards clan founders, especially the birchclan founders. Silly lil kitties who's pasts are drenched in blood with the primary regret of not drawing it sooner

[hyuckiefluff]

nasty habits | park jisung

pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader

genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end

summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?

wc: 20k+

warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.

your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.

but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.

and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.

after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.

you don’t remember how it started, it was likely on a whim born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and became kind of a big deal on the platform.

granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure. it was the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college entirely out of pocket.

you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.

“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.

“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”

“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink

“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.

“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.

“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.

“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”

“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.

you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.

“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”

“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.

“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”

you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.

“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”

“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.

“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.

you raised a brow. “unless what?”

“haechan.”

you frowned. “what about him?”

“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.

“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.

“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”

“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.

“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.

karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”

you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”

“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.

“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.

“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”

giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.

“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.

karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”

before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.

“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.

giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”

“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.

“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.

once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.

“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.

giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”

“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.

karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.

“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”

giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”

haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.

“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.

“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.

“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.

“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”

haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”

“eh… like a seven. why?”

“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”

his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”

you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”

giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”

haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”

you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.

“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.

haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”

giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”

haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”

“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.

“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”

haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”

groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.

“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.

“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.

“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”

“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”

“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.

“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.

“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”

“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.

“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”

“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”

“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”

“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.

he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”

“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”

“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.

“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.

“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”

“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”

“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.

“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.

“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”

“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”

haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”

“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.

“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”

giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”

“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”

“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”

“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”

“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”

you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”

haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.

“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”

“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”

karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”

giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”

you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.

the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.

“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”

“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”

“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”

“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”

he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.

“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”

his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.

“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.

karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”

“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”

“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”

“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”

you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”

“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.

“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”

“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”

“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”

karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”

“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”

karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”

“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”

karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”

“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”

“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”

“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”

haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”

“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.

“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”

“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”

“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.

“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.

“okay, fine. let’s go home.”

“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.

“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.

you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.

“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.

but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.

suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.

“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.

“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.

“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”

you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.

karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”

giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”

when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”

“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.

“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”

“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.

giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”

you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”

“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”

“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.

karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”

“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”

“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”

“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”

giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”

“boo!”

haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.

“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.

“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.

you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.

“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.

“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”

giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”

“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”

“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.

“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”

your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.

you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:

you’d already interacted with him before.

not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.

you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.

“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.

you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”

“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.

jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.

you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”

“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.

“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”

“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”

“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.

“can i come?” haechan asked.

you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.

your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.

the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.

the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.

at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.

“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.

you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.

“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”

you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.

“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”

the messages came in rapid-fire:

“omg collette’s back!”

“you look stunning as always.”

“been waiting for this for weeks!”

you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”

the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.

“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”

you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”

the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.

you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”

a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”

you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.

“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.

he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.

“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.

almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.

the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.

“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.

“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”

“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”

your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.

you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.

as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”

his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.

he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.

“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered

in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.

“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.

it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.

“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.

this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.

he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.

of course, none of that happened.

you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.

you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.

after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.

on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.

on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.

you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.

you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.

“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”

his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.

“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”

he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.

you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.

you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.

“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.

you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.

you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.

behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.

jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.

normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.

but you weren’t like them.

he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.

since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.

it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.

and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.

he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.

his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.

“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.

jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.

“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.

jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.

she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.

when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.

stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.

but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.

his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.

when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.

how am i supposed to survive this?

jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.

she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.

and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.

and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.

he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.

so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.

not that jisung cared, of course.

but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.

today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.

he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.

but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.

you were there.

your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.

he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?

you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”

you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.

“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”

he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.

“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”

“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”

jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.

“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”

you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.

“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”

you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.

he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.

but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.

he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.

but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.

you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.

“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.

“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”

you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”

jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.

“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”

you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.

he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.

“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”

jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.

“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”

his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.

“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”

he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.

as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.

he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.

you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.

when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.

he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.

you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.

and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.

by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.

you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.

jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.

why does that look so familiar?

he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.

and then it hit him.

his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.

holy shit.

jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.

he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.

“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.

he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.

he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.

sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.

you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.

his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.

but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.

you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.

the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.

you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.

you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘���

the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.

“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.

he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.

you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.

his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.

“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.

his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.

“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.

you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.

“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”

he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.

“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.

jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.

“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”

he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.

when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?

jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.

since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.

“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.

“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.

“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”

“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that

but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.

as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.

you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.

jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.

focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.

“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.

you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”

“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”

you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”

“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.

he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.

“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.

“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.

“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”

“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.

you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”

“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.

but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”

jisung froze. fuck.

his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?

“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”

he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.

“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.

jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.

he needed to take care of this. now.

standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.

he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.

“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”

“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”

he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.

“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”

your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.

jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?

“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”

before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”

his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.

sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.

“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.

sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.

jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.

“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”

you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.

“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”

jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”

your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”

but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”

jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”

sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”

“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”

you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.

“listen here, you little shi—”

“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”

sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”

jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.

as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.

“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”

jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”

“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.

jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”

you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.

“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.

you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”

“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”

he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.

you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.

but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.

“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.

“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”

“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.

you laughed. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”

he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.

what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.

“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.

jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”

“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.

he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”

“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”

“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”

“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”

his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.

“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.

he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.

he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.

you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”

jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.

“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”

his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”

“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”

you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”

jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.

“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.

“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.

jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.

you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”

he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.

“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”

he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.

“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”

jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.

“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.

jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.

“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.

when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.

and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.

“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.

jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.

“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”

jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”

“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”

“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”

“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.

“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”

jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.

“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”

jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?

“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”

“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”

jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”

“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.

jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”

“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”

your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”

jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.

“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”

you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.

his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.

“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.

“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”

“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”

jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.

“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.

“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.

“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.

“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.

you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”

“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”

“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.

“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.

“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”

“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.

jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.

“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.

you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”

“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.

“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.

before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.

“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.

jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.

“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”

“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”

jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.

“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.

you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.

that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.

the sound of retching woke him up.

he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.

“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”

“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.

“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”

jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.

“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”

jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.

his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.

before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.

“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”

jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”

“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”

his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.

“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.

“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.

his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?

he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.

“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.

“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”

with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.

he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.

when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.

the door swung open after his third knock.

there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.

"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.

but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.

“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.

“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.

“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.

jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.

"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."

"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"

your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.

"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.

jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.

"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.

"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.

"would you like to guest on my channel?"

jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”

he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."

you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."

jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?

“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.

jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?

but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.

with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."

“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.

but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.

you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.

“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.

he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”

you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”

your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.

your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”

he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.

you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.

you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.

“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.

“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.

“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”

his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.

“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.

his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.

“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”

the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.

“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”

the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.

before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.

“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.

“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”

“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.

he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.

“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.

jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.

you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.

“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.

“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.

jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.

you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.

“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”

the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.

“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.

“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”

the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.

jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.

“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.

his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.

you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.

“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”

his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.

you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.

“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.

“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”

your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.

“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.

his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.

“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.

your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.

you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.

“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”

you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”

he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.

“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.

“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.

“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.

his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.

just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.

a condom.

jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.

“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.

goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.

“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.

“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.

jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.

“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.

“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.

the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.

it fit perfectly.

“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.

“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.

jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.

you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.

"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.

he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.

“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.

“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.

“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”

you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.

"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."

jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.

when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.

"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.

you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”

you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.

“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”

his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.

"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.

jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.

you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.

“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.

you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.

jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.

“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”

the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.

his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.

“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.

jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”

you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”

he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”

the next day...

“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.

“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”

jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.

a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.

earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.

jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.

“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.

he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.

the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.

and he was succeeding.

your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.

he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.

you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”

his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.

jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.

a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3

[leaderwonim]

❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.

genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff

“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”

“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.

The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.

The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.

You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.

“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.

“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”

“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.

The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.

Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.

You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.

Then, all goes black.

For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.

It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.

When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.

That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.

❀﹐

BLEEP. BLEEP.

Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.

“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”

You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.

“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.

That was besides the point, though.

“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”

“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”

The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”

“Us two?” You question.

“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”

Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”

Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."

The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”

The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”

You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”

He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”

You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?

“What did you get for breakfast?”

Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.

“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”

“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”

You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”

You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.

You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.

Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.

“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”

You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”

“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.

“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”

The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.

❀﹐

The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.

You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.

“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.

“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.

“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”

Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.

“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”

“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”

Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.

“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.

“I’d love to, actually.”

And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.

“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”

Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”

That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.

“You look nice today.”

“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”

You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”

You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.

“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.

“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”

“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”

At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!

“Ah, mine was similar.”

Nice save Y/N.

Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.

“Come sit with me.”

You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.

“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”

“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”

“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”

“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”

Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.

“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”

“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”

“Really? What was it?”

You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?

“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.

“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”

You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

❀﹐

“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”

“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”

You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks Hoonie.”

“Hoonie?”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”

“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”

You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”

The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.

You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.

When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.

“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”

“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”

He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.

With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.

“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”

Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.

“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.

“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”

“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”

“Yes ma’am!”

❀﹐

You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.

Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.

There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?

“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.

“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”

“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.

Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.

"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.

Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."

A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.

"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"

The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.

"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out for a bit."

He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."

"Who?"

"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."

You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.

"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."

You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."

"Yah!"

❀﹐

"Is it weird?"

"Hm?"

It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.

"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"

You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."

"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"

Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.

Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.

He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.

When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.

"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."

"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."

"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."

"Sunghoon."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."

❀﹐

"What?" You say flabbergasted.

The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.

"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"

"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.

"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."

"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.

"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."

That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.

"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."

"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.

"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.

"Yes mom, I'm sure."

The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.

"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.

"Yes Jungwon?"

"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."

You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."

You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."

"I love you too."

❀﹐

"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."

You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."

He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."

"I can't believe it either."

"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."

You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.

"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.

"Hey Y/N?"

You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad I married you."

Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Pt. 1

You couldn't help but anxiously fiddle with the hem of your dress as you sat beside Simon, one of his hands resting on your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel. "It's going to be fine, sweetheart. They're going to love you." Unsure, you glanced up at him, a frown on your pretty face. "Are you sure? Maybe they'll just see me as an inconvenience that will keep you from them in the future. Or maybe they'll-" Simon interrupted you as he tightly squeezed the fat of your thigh, a possessive growl leaving his throat. "They'd never. Trust me." With a sigh, you nodded. And he was right.

From the moment you two walked into the same dingy pub where you first met, the others treated you as if they'd known you for years, and you were a part of the friend group. The entire evening, you laughed and drank, Simon's hand constantly on you. At least until he left to go take a piss and smoke a cigarette.

The moment you were alone with the three men, the Scottish one leaned across the table, a gigantic grin on his face. "So? How did ya two meet?" The older one quickly pulled the Scottish one back, a scowl on his face, as he regarded his team member, but there was a certain hint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

You chuckled, thinking back to the day.

Excitement cursed through you as you stepped out of the cab, your phone in your hand as you watched your best friend type. But the moment she sent her message, the excitement dissipated. "I'm so sorry, but I can't make it! I'll make it up to you though!"

You rolled your eyes, glancing at the sign of the pub you were standing in front of. She couldn't have let you know before you made your way there, could she? Inside you, two demons started to fight. One yelling at you to go back home and gulp down an entire ice cream pint. The other one calmly stating that you were already here and should at least get a little bit wasted. Before you knew it, the calm demon had won and you walked into the pub, quickly finding a place at the bar. But you noticed him immediately. Sitting in a dark corner, his face almost completely hidden. And very obviously staring at you. It didn't matter when during the evening you turned around, his eyes were always on you. At first, it creeped you out, but before long, you felt warmth spread through you. You almost felt protected, his obvious attention keeping all the usual creepers at bay. So, you decided you at least wanted his number.

But when you paid for your tab, hoping to be able to join him at his table, you watched as he stood up and walked outside. As quickly as you could, without tripping over the air, you rushed after him, finding him outside, leaning against a wall. After taking a deep breath, you started to walk over to him, but he immediately pushed off the wall and started to walk away. Were you really this repulsing?

Before doubts could start to fill you, you called out to him. "Uhm, I'm sorry, Sir?" He stopped and slowly turned around to face you. With a small and hopeful smile, you crossed the distance. The closer you got to him, the more you could really see him. While the lower half of his face was hidden behind a black surgical mask, you could see the top of his cheeks. And they were red, practically glowing with heat. Adorable.

"I'm sorry, I hope this isn't too direct, but I wanted to ask if I could have your number? You're really handsome and seem like a nice man. Of course, it's okay if not, I don't want to pressure you or anything. I-" You stopped, your eyes wide as you watched his entire body trembling slightly. Like a robot, he slowly stretched out his hand to you. Your eyes focused on it and you watched for a few beats as the trembling only got worse. Then, you quickly pulled out your phone and handed it to him.

Once again moving like a robot, the man slowly plugged in his number, his hands trembling bad enough, that you thought he would drop your phone at some point. When he handed your phone back, you looked down and saw that he had also put in his name. But it was a mix of upper and lower cases, making you chuckle. You grinned up at him and pocketed your phone. “Thank you…well…have a good night.”

You turned around and walked a couple of steps before his shaking hand on your elbow stopped you. “U-Uh…uhm…eat? Uh now?” His voice was shaking even more than his hands and he kept stumbling over his words, but when he got the question out, you couldn’t help but nod with a smile.

“And yeah, that’s it.” The Scottish and the pretty one immediately burst into laughter, slapping their thighs and each other, while the older one just smirked, slowly shaking his head. You looked at them, confused. “What…?”

“What did I miss?” Simon slid into his chair beside you, his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders. His friends immediately started to tease him, recounting points from what you had just told them. Immediately, the blush was back on his face, and you couldn’t help but chuckle along. At least until his hand came to rest on your thigh, and squeezed tightly. Oh, you were in for a night.

A/N: Here we go! Part two and the real story all wrapped up in one! Hope you like it! Edit: Re-upload because I forgot to add tags... :)

@skeletonsucker

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Heyy! Could you maybe write for Oscar, his 2 year old babygirl being very cuddly and clingy? She doesn’t want to be separated from him or her mom. Just very fluffy and sweet

Little Miss Clingy

The moment Oscar and Lily laid eyes on their baby girl two years ago, their world shifted. They had thought they understood love before, but seeing their daughter for the first time, tiny and perfect, was something else entirely. They adored every part of her—the way her little fingers curled around theirs, the sleepy sighs she made when she rested on their chests, and now, at two years old, the way she toddled around their home, her chubby arms always reaching for them.

Yn was the center of their universe, and she knew it.

So, when Oscar suggested bringing her to a race for the first time, Lily had been hesitant. "She’s never been around so many people before, Osc," she had said, running her fingers through Yn’s soft curls as the little girl played with her stuffed rabbit. "She might get overwhelmed."

Oscar, ever the optimist, had grinned. "She’ll be fine, love. She’s got us."

And now, standing in the middle of the paddock with Yn perched on Oscar’s hip, her little fists gripping his shirt tightly, Lily wasn’t so sure about that.

Yn’s big eyes darted around, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces. People were everywhere—talking, laughing, pointing cameras in their direction. Some even called out to her daddy, waving excitedly.

Yn didn’t like it.

She turned her head, burying her face into Oscar’s shoulder. He let out a small chuckle, rubbing her back. "Not a fan of the crowd, huh, sweetheart?"

Yn only gripped him tighter.

"She’s definitely overwhelmed," Lily murmured, adjusting the pink bucket hat on Yn’s head. She had fought hard for that hat. Everyone in the team had wanted to dress their daughter in orange, but Yn had refused. The second Lily showed her the pink one, she had clapped her hands and declared, "Pinky!"

So pink it was.

Oscar pressed a kiss to Yn’s hair. "It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it, bub?"

Yn peeked up at him with wide eyes, then at Lily, before reaching for her. "Mama," she mumbled, her little voice barely audible over the noise of the paddock.

Lily took her immediately, smoothing a hand over her curls. "I’ve got you, baby."

They made their way toward the hospitality area, where a few drivers were gathered, chatting casually. When they spotted Oscar, their faces lit up.

"Ah, so this is the famous Yn!" Lando was the first to approach, grinning wide. "Hey there, little one."

Yn stared at him for a long moment, then turned her face into Lily’s neck.

Lando gasped dramatically. "Rejected. That one stings, not gonna lie."

Alex snorted, leaning over to get a peek at Yn. "She’s shy, mate. Give her a second."

Oscar reached out, stroking Yn’s back. "You okay, bub? These are my friends."

Yn peeked up, glancing at the group again before curling back into her mom’s arms.

Lily chuckled. "She’s in a clingy mood today."

Carlos, standing nearby, tilted his head. "She doesn’t like crowds?"

"She’s just confused," Oscar explained. "This is her first race, and she has no idea what’s going on."

Max, who had been quiet, suddenly crouched down to Yn’s eye level. "Do you like racing, little one?"

Yn blinked at him, then shook her head. "No."

A beat of silence. Then, Lando burst into laughter. "Oh, Oscar, you’re in trouble."

Oscar let out a dramatic sigh. "Come on, bub, you’re breaking my heart here."

Yn just nestled deeper into Lily’s arms.

"You’re not into racing?" Lando tried again. "But your dad is really good at it!"

Yn furrowed her brows. "Where Daddy go?"

Oscar chuckled. "I’m right here, bub."

She shook her head, patting his chest. "No. Later."

It took them a moment to understand what she meant.

"She’s asking where you go during the race," Lily realized, rubbing Yn’s back.

"Ohhh," Oscar grinned. "Daddy goes in the car, sweetheart."

Yn looked unimpressed.

"To drive really fast," Oscar added.

Still unimpressed.

"You don’t think that’s cool?"

Yn shook her head.

Alex doubled over laughing. "She’s killing me!"

Oscar pouted dramatically. "Alright, bub, what do you think is cool?"

Yn thought for a moment, then lifted her hat. "Pinky."

Lily smirked. "Pink is her favorite color. She wasn’t having any of the orange merch."

Carlos hummed. "You have taste, pequeña. Pink is a great color."

Yn finally pulled her face away from Lily’s neck, her big eyes looking at Carlos. "Pink good."

"See?" Carlos beamed. "Smart girl."

Just as she was starting to relax, a crew member approached, handing Oscar his helmet.

"It’s time?" Oscar asked.

"Yeah, you’re needed in the garage."

Oscar turned back to his wife and daughter, taking Yn into his arms and running a soothing hand down Yn’s back. "Alright, bub, Daddy has to go drive now, okay?"

Yn’s little brows furrowed.

"Daddy will be back soon," he promised. "You stay with Mama."

Then, before she could protest, he gently transferred her into Lily’s arms.

Yn made a confused noise, blinking as if trying to process what just happened. Then—

"Daddy!"

Oscar turned just in time to see his little girl reaching for him, her lower lip wobbling.

"Oh, sweetheart," Lily cooed, bouncing her slightly. "It’s okay, baby. Daddy will be back."

But Yn wasn’t having it.

She let out a frustrated whine, her small hands grasping at the air in Oscar’s direction. "Daddy!"

Oscar winced. "Oh man, this is gonna hurt."

"You need to go," Lily said, though she was clearly struggling not to cave at the sight of their daughter’s distress.

"Yeah, but—"

"Daddy!"

It took everything in Oscar not to take her back. But he knew if he did, he’d never leave.

"I love you, bub," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I’ll be back before you know it."

Yn whined again, but this time, she slumped against Lily’s shoulder, defeated.

Oscar gave her one last look, blowing her a kiss, before heading off, feeling a pang in his chest at the sound of her little sniffles.

Lily sighed, adjusting Yn in her arms. "It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you."

Still, Yn was clearly not happy.

And when Lily started talking to a man called Zak Brown, the two-year-old had had enough.

She curled into her mother, pressing her face into Lily’s neck.

Zak chuckled. "She’s not much of a people person, huh?"

Lily smiled, rubbing small circles on Yn’s back. "She’s usually very social. But today is a lot for her."

Zak nodded understandingly. "First race?"

"Yeah. She doesn’t get why people keep wanting Oscar’s attention or where he goes. She just wants her parents."

Yn clung tighter.

"Well," Zak said, giving the little girl a warm smile, "I think she’s got a great support system."

Lily pressed a kiss to her daughter’s head. "That she does."

Yn didn’t understand racing, or why people were so interested in her dad, or why they kept trying to put her in orange when pink was clearly superior.

But she knew one thing for sure.

As long as she was with her mommy and daddy, everything would be okay.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves! I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[randomshyperson]

The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.

Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k

A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3

-&-

The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.

Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”

Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 

“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”

“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”

The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.

“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”

Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.

-&-

A stupid tree.

A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.

That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.

She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.

But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.

When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.

She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.

“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”

It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.

Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.

“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 

She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 

Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.

“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”

You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”

She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”

Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.

A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 

Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 

You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 

Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 

Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.

“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 

No. No thinking about this, not now.

She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.

She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 

“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.

“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.

“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.

“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.

“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.

Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.

Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 

You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.

When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.

“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 

There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”

But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.

“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.

For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.

“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”

You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 

“Can you use your words?”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”

She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 

But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.

“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.

“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.

It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.

The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.

To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.

Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.

“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”

“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”

You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 

Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 

“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 

Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 

Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 

It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.

She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.

“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.

“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 

As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”

Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.

She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.

“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”

You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.

“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.

You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.

Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.

“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 

“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 

“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”

You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.

Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.

Some old habits never die.

[no-144444]

different- o.piastri

summary: the differences are starting to show ow that oscar is going to be present in mia's life, and in turn, yours.

pairing: oscar piastri x ex! single mom! fem! reader

part one | part two | part three

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You were terrified. The past few weeks had been… strange, to say the least. You’d seen Oscar every single day of the last month. He moved his entire life to London in the span of a week for Mia. It reminded you of the teenage Oscar who would move mountains for you, and you were glad Mia got that side of him too.

It had been a whirlwind of emotions since Australia, and you’d watched every Grand Prix since then from your London house. Mia adored it. You told your family and friends about Oscar coming into Mia’s life, and there were varying degrees of support, but Teresa, your closest friend, hated Oscar. Every time she saw him it was either a roll of the eyes or a passive aggressive comment, but he took it all in good faith and just smiled and continued talking. It was a lot though, you’d been Oscar-less for 4 years, just seeing him through a screen, and now he was coming to your apartment everyday with a coffee for you, and something for Mia. Now, you two texted daily. Now, he was there again, and it freaked you out. 

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Oscar sat outside in his car, psyching himself up for the conversation that was about to happen. How the fuck dop you tell a 4 year old that you’re her dad and you didn’t know about her for 4 years, and now you want to be in her life every single day? How do you apologise for the missed time? How would he apologise to you if she got mad at you? What if she hated him forever and he lost her and you? How could he prove to both of you that he was serious about you two?

Beth: You’ve been MIA since last week, what’s up Osc? Call me please xxx

He cursed himself and the universe's impeccable timing. Beth was the girl he’d been seeing for a few months, and like all the girls he’d dated since you, bore a striking resemblance. He didn’t know what to tell her, how to explain it, or if he even should. His first thought was to ask you what he should do, what you’d be comfortable with him telling, and then he realised he would then be admitting to ‘moving on’, when he really only wanted you. He was at a stand-still in his brain, and muted her messages before going up to your front door. 

“Hey,” you smiled, opening the door to him, Mia on your hip. The picture in front of him made his heart ache a little bit. He could imagine himself coming home to it every night, after every race, for the past few years. “Come in.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, walking inside and taking Mia out of your arms as she reached for him. She softened the ache a bit. “Hey Mia.”

“Hey Osc!” she bundled into his arms, squirming around. She directed him to her playroom where they spent about 3 hours together, before you came in to set her down for her nap. 

“Do you want to…?” you offered, gesturing to her bedroom. “I can show you, just in case you need to know one day.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and followed behind you. “Yeah, after you.” 

He watched as you gently tucked her in, a soft smile on your face as she looked at you with all the love in the world. He could’ve sworn his heart was trying to claw itself out of his chest to get to you two, but he swallowed back the tears, and left the room behind you, after kissing Mia on the forehead. 

“She really likes you,” you pointed out as you made him a coffee. 

“Thank you for letting me be part of this,” he nodded. “It means… everything to me. She does.”

You nodded. “You’re a natural.” 

He took the cup you handed him with a grateful nod, and you sat across from him. “How are you doing?” 

You stared at him like a deer in headlights for a moment then looked back down at your own mug. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course,” he assured you. “I want you to be.”

“I’m a bit… overwhelmed? If that’s the right word. This is all just… a lot,” you explained. “It’s just… I was a single mom for like 4 years, and now I have you and I guess I’m just still getting used to it. Not that it’s bad or anything, it’s just… different. But Mia and you get on so well, and you’ve been so kind throughout this whole process, so, thank you for that. It’s just-”

“Weird?” he offered, and you chuckled. 

“Weird,” you confirmed. “What about you?” 

“It’s been weird, obviously. But, I adore her. I knew I had cared about people before, but this is just… different. I didn’t think I could care about someone so much after you-” He cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright,” you shook your head. “I get what you mean.” 

He nodded. “She’s wonderful. She’s so smart. She’s so funny. She’s so… you, honestly,” he chuckled.

“She’s a mini me that looks like a mini you,” you laughed. He’d missed that laugh. He’d missed you. 

He nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“How does it feel to be leading the championship?” you asked, sipping your tea. 

He didn’t even think about F1 unless he was in the car. He just raced, and then rushed home to see you and Mia. He shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it,” he breathed out a long sigh. “I guess it feels good?”

“You haven’t thought about it?” you gawked. 

“I usually rush home after races,” he admitted. “I like to talk to Mia about it.” 

“Oh,” you looked at him, then back down at your mug. “Well, y’know, we could come to the next one, if you want her there.”

“I’d want you there too,” he took your hand. “Both of you.” 

You nodded. “We could be there.”

“I’d like that,” he smiled, his thumb running over your knuckles. “I’d like that a lot.” 

“Alright,” you smiled flatly, but he could see something in your eye, something that made him think he was doing something right. “We’ll make it happen.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“Oscar… is my dad?” Mia questioned. “How?” 

“Well, Oscar and I used to be in a relationship, and we loved each other very much. And we broke up before I knew I was pregnant with you, and I didn’t have a way to tell him you were on the way, but we saw each other in Australia and I told him then, and that’s why he’s been coming over so much,” you explained calmly and gently. 

She nodded for a moment. “That makes sense. Why did you two break up?” 

Both of you cringed and he turned to look at you. 

“Sometimes people may be the right fit, but it might just not be the right time in their lives for them to be together. That’s what happened with me and Oscar,” you spoke slowly, basically grasping at straws to think of something to explain your very complicated break up. 

Oscar tried not to let himself get excited at the fact that you still thought he was right right person for you, but it did make him fell quite good about himself. Right person, wrong time? He could work with that.

“So do I call Oscar; dad, or Oscar?” she asked, glazing over your explanation. 

“You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled. “Oscar, Osc, dad, anything.”

She nodded, studying him again. “I think I’ll call you dad,” he decided. “I like you a lot dad. Are you going to stick around now?” 

He chuckled. “I’m going to stick around until the end of time Mia,” he promised. “Swear.”

“And you and mom are going to get back together?” she asked sceptically.

“Umm,” he thought about it for a moment. “We don’t know.”

“Well you should. Mommy has been single since I was born, and she needs someone who’ll love her,” she blurted out as you covered your face with your hands. 

“Mia,” you groaned. 

“What?! It’s the truth!” Mia shrieked. 

“Anyway,” you changed the topic. “Do you have any other questions?” 

“Not really,” she admitted. “Am I going to have to go between dad and moms house?”

You looked at each other. “We haven’t really talked about that yet,” Oscar admitted. “Is that something you don’t want?” 

“No. It seems like a lot. I want both of you in the same house with me,” she shook her head. 

You turned to each other again. “Well, we’ll talk about it,” you smiled back at Mia. 

“Can dad stay over tonight?” She asked. “I want to watch a movie with him.”

“Of course he can sweetheart,” you smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll get dinner started.”

“I’ll clean up the playroom!” She called out as she ran in the direction of her room. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“That wasn’t bad,” he announced as he chopped up carrots. 

“Not at all,” you nodded, your mind a million miles away. 

“I thought she’d take it worse,” he sighed. “Oh, and I really don’t have to stay over tonight-“

“Nonsense,” you brushed him off. “We have a spare bedroom. It’s all yours.” 

“Thank you, for all of this,” he smiled. “She genuinely means everything to me.” 

“That makes two of us,” you smiled, a genuinely, real smile. The ones he was so used to back in the day.

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[riddlesrizzler]

𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙤 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙭 𝙝𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙪𝙛𝙛! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

headcanons of mattheo with hufflepuff! reader

warnings: lots of fluff! mentions of not liking hufflepuffs. smoking mentioned. smut. but like super gentle and fluffy first time. mattheo being a simp.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

⟡ ݁₊ . grumpy x sunshine vibe

𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵

⟡ ݁₊ . mattheo riddle didn’t like people, scratch that, he doesn’t like people period. for the longest time he wouldn’t really make an effort with anyone unless they were in his inner circle of slytherin friends. he didn’t see a point to communicate with other houses. especially hufflepuffs.

⟡ ݁₊ .he saw the yellow house as weak. something about their friendly attitude and the stupid smiles on their faces made him want to punch something and he often did.

⟡ ݁₊ . but when he got in trouble for enchanting the mandrakes to storm the gryffindor tower at three in the morning, he was forced to help you take care of the magical creatures.

⟡ ݁₊ .he didn’t know you, convinced himself that he was going to have a bad time. that nothing could be worse then spending the next two weeks with a hufflepuff of all people as he trudged his way down to hagrid’s hut.

⟡ ݁₊ .but he seemed to feel his heart squeeze, like a snake had wrapped around it and started to compress the organ into two when he heard your laughter.

⟡ ݁₊ . he cautiously made his way towards the hut only to see you cuddling a niffler. the sight of the tiny creature in your arms, a smile painted on your lips as you looked down at the niffler with such warmth made something in his brain snap.

⟡ ݁₊ . “oh no”

⟡ ݁₊ .literally mattheo had never met anyone like you. you were soft, sweet, a ball of sunshine wrapped into a beautiful package. he could often find himself asking the gods how on earth this angel had fallen from the heavens? and more importantly why wasn’t she scared of me?

⟡ ݁₊ .mattheo was aware of his reputation of practically scaring the piss out of anyone if they looked at him for too long, but with you. oh with you, the sweet hufflepuff you were, you didn’t bat an eye at his last name or the bruises on his knuckles.

⟡ ݁₊ .but you seemed to be this way with everyone. he had observed you in class, in the great hall, with your friends. his brown eyes followed every step that you took. watching as you turned to lend a hand to those who needed it, going out of your way to make someone smile, even to people who had casted you rude glances.

⟡ ݁₊ .of course, it took some time for him to fully warm up to you. in some odd, backwards way, he was intimidated by you. but once he finally let down some of the walls he had managed to keep up, he found the dark corners of his soul starting to glow.

⟡ ݁₊ .mattheo asked you out by staying up all night to bake cookies, just like the ones that you would make for him. only, he wasn’t very good at baking.

⟡ ݁₊ .even with the help of theo, who had read the wrong ingredients. enzo, who kept eating the ingredients. draco, who kept getting confused by muggle baking. and blaise, who was rubbing is temples the entire time. the cookies still looked less than appetizing.

⟡ ݁₊ .he expected you to throw them away, saying how gross they looked and that you never date someone like him. but when he saw the way that your eyes lit up at the gesture, your arms pulling him into a hug. he felt like he had finally had done something right.

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

⟡ ݁₊ .when you both officially started dating. he was extremely cautious. almost scared that he was going to shatter you with one wrong move. he was used to destroying things with his fingers. but he didn’t want to do that to you. in fact he felt the opposite, he wanted to protect you from the cruel and harsh world that he knew.

⟡ ݁₊ .let’s face it, matty boy is going to be a little over protective and jealous at first, actually probably for forever, but he keeps it hidden. you’re the good thing in his life, his angel, his sunshine. if anything ever happened to your pure soul, mattheo would rip the world apart.

⟡ ݁₊ .he would be really sweet about it though. always concerned for your safety. he almost had a heart attack when you were petting a dragon during care of magical creatures. but watching you in your element seemed to ease his nerves, for the most part.

⟡ ݁₊ . “darling? can you take a step back from the dragon? oh for merlin’s sake- please?”

⟡ ݁₊ .he would have a total soft spot for you too. his signature glare seemed to turn on as he grazed through the hallways, but once he spotted you. all of the tension melted from his muscles.

⟡ ݁₊ .i also believe that he wouldn’t smoke around you either. whether it was because you hated the smell or the fact that you hated to see him poison his body, he tried to cut back for you. it was so hard to say no to you when you had those big puppy dog eyes and that pouty lip as you whined about his health.

⟡ ݁₊ .and don’t get me started on all of the homemade gifts he has from you displayed in his room. sweet homemade cards littered his walls. the knitted scarf that you had made for him for his birthday, sat slung across his chair. the little plush snake that you had crocheted sat in the middle of his bed, after you insisted that it would get lonely if he put it anywhere else.

⟡ ݁₊ .mattheo riddle was a total sap for you. he found himself liking the color yellow because it reminded him of you. he kept a picture of you in his wallet at all times. the lucky scrunchie you gave him before a big quidditch match was always on his wrist. mattheo was completely in love with you.

⟡ ݁₊ . “i fucking love you, sunshine”

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹

⟡ ݁₊ .when mattheo found out that you were a virgin. oh merlin. he was consumed with the most intense amount of anxiety as he didn’t want to hurt you, he didn’t want it to be bad either.

⟡ ݁₊ .before you, mattheo was strict with his hookups. only used to relieve pent up frustrations. he couldn’t do that for you. never with you.

⟡ ݁₊ .you had to reassure him multiple times when you were ready to give yourself to him. only for him to ask you a million times if you were absolutely sure about it.

⟡ ݁₊ .when the time finally did come, and you were sprawled onto his bed. your hair fluttered around you and onto his pillow, you wearing a white lacy set that made you seem like an earth angel. the way you bit your lip and looked up at him through your lashes, could have supplied him with images for the rest of his life.

⟡ ݁₊ . “oh how lucky to be in the presence of a goddess”

⟡ ݁₊ .his touches were careful. he wanted to make sure you felt good. so he took his time sucking on your neck. finding the sensitive spots that made you moan louder.

⟡ ݁₊ .his hands were shaky when he took off his own clothes. barely even registering the cool air as his eyes were glued onto you taking off your bra. mattheo bit his own lip in order to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

⟡ ݁₊ .his rough and calloused hands running over your supple flesh before dipping his head down to kiss all over your skin. relishing in the glory when you arched up into his touch.

⟡ ݁₊ . when the time had finally come where both of you were completely bare. he was gentle. whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he guided himself into you. he swears that he almost loses it when he feels you trying to adjust to him.

⟡ ݁₊ . “fuck baby, you’re so tight. gonna make you feel so good”

⟡ ݁₊ .he waited for your signal. when you nodded your head is only when he began to slowly move his hips. groaning when you’re nails dug into his shoulders.

⟡ ݁₊ .your whimpers started to turn into moans, and you kept encouraging mattheo to give you more. to make you feel more. and mattheo was more than happy to oblige as his head was buried into the crook of your neck.

⟡ ݁₊ .when he felt your thighs start to shake, your moans becoming louder, he knew you were close. he lifted his head to look at you. and my gods, mattheo swears he has never seen anything more beautiful then when you’re flushed, biting your lip, your eyes squeezed shut. it nearly draws him to the edge.

⟡ ݁₊ .but of course, mattheo is a gentleman with you. so he makes sure you finish before he finally thrusts forward, slumping over slightly as the two of you try to catch your breath.

⟡ ݁₊ .he makes sure to pull you into his arms. despite the fact that both of you are slightly sweaty, he wants to tell you how amazing you did and how prefect you are.

⟡ ݁₊ . “angel, you did absolutely perfect. are you okay? how are your legs?”

⟡ ݁₊ . you, a sweet hufflepuff, that mattheo had assumed he would’ve hated. had turned the great son of voldemort into mush. you were his great weakness, a light in the cold and dark world that he had once lived in. you were his everything.

⟡ ݁₊ . “you are my only sunshine”

[highdramas]

peaceful road | dr. michael robinavitch

pairing: michael robinavitch x f!reader

warnings: language, age gap (reader is 29, robby is 50)

word count: 2392

summary: (small town au) you've lived in cradle point, oregon for nearly your entire life. when you come down with a nasty sickness, you meet dr. robby-- just having opened his new private practice after running away from it all.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. i'm very excited to kick off this series! i admittedly know little about operating a private practice, or medicine in general, so please forgive any inaccuracies. thank you for reading <3

--

dr. michael robinavitch starts his day at 7am, by habit more than anything else. he doesn’t begin seeing patients until 8am, but there’s something very comforting about the quiet of his office, the sound of the keyboard, the faint sound of johnny cash playing out of his speakers. he makes the short drive to work every day and he now has the time to stop for coffee, rather than make it at home.

life has been slower since that day in the pitt. that day that lead into an almost immediate sabbatical, which then lead to a resignation, he still has to fight off this notion that he gave up, that he conceded something. he wakes up and wonders most mornings still– how are they doing? how’s whittaker holding up? sometimes, he nearly texts dana to ask, then he remembers she’s now at a private practice, too. except she didn’t move across the country.

how could he stay in pittsburgh? what was going to be left for him there?

he loved the pacific northwest for a long time, after visiting one time with collins. he enjoyed portland, but he loved his time on the coast even more. when he thought about where he wanted a fresh start, that felt like a good a place as any.

after extensive research, he decided on cradle point. with a population of 1,500, and no private practice since the last doctor had moved away, it felt like a good place to try. and so he did. and after two months… well, things were going pretty well. it felt like he could breathe, while still doing the thing that he had burning passion for. he could save lives and not put his own mental health in turmoil every single day. he could step away from emergency medicine and live with himself.

that’s what he said to himself, anyway. sometimes, when he was feeling really crazy, he would go to the emergency room in lincoln city, and he’d sit in the parking lot and consider going in and asking if they needed an er physician. but then he always got back into his subaru and made the drive down the coastline back to cradle point.

he’s only on month two of operating his own private practice, and he doesn’t want to say that it’s perfect– he knows it isn’t. but it’s good. and that’s what he cares about.

hearing a tug at the door, his head pops up, tugging his readers off. it’s unusual to get anyone at his door until 9 or 10. he suspects that townsfolk are still trying to decide if they trust him– he gets it. well, not really, but he is starting to understand the small town mentality. the aversion to outsiders.

when he swings open the door and sees you, it starts up those same emergency medicine instincts. you look unsteady on your feet, holding a coffee, sunglasses on the crown of your head. “hi,” you say, voice graveled. “i’ve been wanting to come by and introduce myself–” you give him your name before you cough into the crook of your arm. “i’m sorry, i know you’re probably not open yet. my friends finally shamed me into coming, but i need to be at my shop at 8:30, and i saw that your light was on–”

“no, no. please, come in and sit.” he gestures to an exam bed which you hop onto. he can’t help his slight smile as you cross your legs and toss your bag into the chair by the exam table like you’ve done it the exact same way a million times. “did you used to see dr. jackson?”

michael doesn’t know much about his predecessor, other than that it sounded like he had pretty big shoes to fill. dr. angela jackson was beloved by the people of cradle point. that much was abundantly clear. you flush and laugh a little bit. “she’s my aunt.” you rub your hands on your pants and look at him sheepishly. “that’s a small town for ya.”

he laughs louder at that. “well,” he takes a step closer to you. “i’m not your aunt, but i’ll take good care of you. my name is dr. robinavitch, but most people call me dr. robby. i’m gonna do a quick exam on you and hopefully get you out of here.”

“thank you, dr. robinavitch.” you smile so earnestly it makes his heart stutter over itself.

shit.

–

you had a crush on the hot doctor. why did no one tell you that he was hot?

having lived in cradle point for your entire life, any new person moving into town was undeniably a big deal. it felt like, anymore, people moved away frequently, but there wasn’t a steady stream of those returning. of course, there was the tourists in the summer and the occasional retiree that would settle down on the coast. but most people didn’t feel like living out of the way of so much.

you loved your hometown. you loved the tall trees and the fact that you could walk onto the balcony off your bedroom and hear the faint crash of the ocean. you loved that your best friend erin was just like you, and had stayed, and that every day you could walk ten minutes down the road to see her. you loved that you could take your cat onto the beach in her little harness and leash whenever you wanted. you loved the farmers market. you loved being a business owner in this town. there wasn’t much that you didn’t like.

and you really loved when new people entered your orbit. there was a sort of excitement that it brought– it was so rare, how could you not be excited?

dr. robinavitch is thorough with you. you believe him when he says he’s doing to take good care of you. you’ve been going and going with little slowing since you got sick– not taking days off of work, carrying on despite your body screaming at you to stop. he cradles your face and gently presses on your cheeks, causing you to wince slightly. it’s then when he leans back and looks at you and says, “yeah, you’ve got a pretty nasty sinus infection. i’m gonna get you some antibiotics and you should be good to go within the next week. but you’re gonna need rest– no work. you think you can do that?”

“i can give it a really good try,” you say. “no, no– yeah, i won’t work. i’ll get erin to cover the store for a couple of days.”

“where do you work?”

“i own mazzy’s. it’s a bookstore on main street.” feeling bold, you say, “you should come by sometime, once i’m better. do you like to read? i can give you plenty of suggestions.” you pause, and add, sheepishly, “if you want, of course.”

michael, utterly charmed despite everything in him screaming at him not to be, shoves his hands into the pockets of his zip up hoodie. “yeah, i like to read. i’ve been driving past it every day and thinking about how i should go in. i’ve read through just about everything i’ve got.” that was about all he did during his sabbatical– reading, pretending, pushing it all down. “i’ll come by. i like sci fi.”

“sci fi! we have a great sci fi section–” you sneeze. “and fantasy, too, if you’re into that sort of thing.” you have that same sheepish look on your face and all he can think about is how sweet you are, how in fifteen minutes you’ve made him feel more welcome in this town than anyone else in the past month has made him feel. including his neighbors. no fault to them, he thinks; they would be in pretty stiff competition with you around.

no. you’re younger than him– twenty nine, he found out, as he was doing your intake. he may be having a midlife crisis, but he never fancied himself the type to go for a girl nearly half his age, let alone a patient. but then you start talking about a book called this is how you lose the time war and his heart does that same stuttering that it did earlier. maybe he should be the one seeing a doctor.

“--and, yeah, it’s a love story more than anything. a very good love story. not some of the cheesy slop that’s out right now. i mean, don’t the people want to yearn anymore?” you sigh, clearly exasperated at your own train of thought. you stand and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “anyway. i’m sorry, i’ll get out of your hair.”

“no, no–” he chuckles, the sound awkward in his ears. “stay in my hair as much as you want.” it’s his turn to flush, but you are too, and you meet each others gaze and laugh together. maybe there’s some knowing it that laugh. that neither of you can quite place it, but… there’s something.

“as much as i’d love to, i should take your advice and get my rest. thank you so much, again–” you open the door to the clinic, greeted by the torrential downpour that started at some point while you and dr. robby were in your trance. “wow. anyway, i’ll be seeing you.”

“oh–” he grabs the door, holding it open for you and looking out at the unyielding rain. “you drive here?”

“i walked. i’ll be fine, i–”

before he can think better of it, he says, “i can drive you,” a doctor for more years than he can count at this point, and he’s teetering on breaking the code of ethics over the first girl he meets. of course. “if you want. only if you want.”

hanging onto the doorframe, you smile a little and look out to the rain. fuck it. “sure. thank you.”

–

you both make a quick jog to his car parked slightly down the road, tugging your hoods over your heads. “this one’s mine,” he says, pointing to an immaculate black subaru suv. he rushes to open your door for you, making sure you’re safely inside before he hops into the drivers seat. the sound of the rain pounding on his car fills your ears, and you’re both slightly out of breath, looking over at each other and smiling. “wouldn’t have been a fun walk home,” he muses.

you blow out a puff of air. “no, it wouldn’t have.” you lean your head back against the seat, sniffling some. “thank you.”

“my pleasure.” you’re still looking at each other for a beat when he clears his throat, starting up the car. “you lead the way.”

you provide him instructions on how to get to your small seaside cottage. it was your parents home– when they decided they were ready to go on and retire in southern california, tired of the rain of the oregon coast, they put the house in your name. it was your grandparents home before that, the entire house wrapped up in the history of your last name.

you provide him anecdotes regarding businesses and landmarks as you drive past them. “that’s mrs. felicia’s diner. have you eaten there yet? don’t get the pie. just trust me.” a moment later, “this is the lookout where high schoolers go to make out or smoke weed. it’s like, don’t they know they’re not that slick?”

michael listens to all your musings, riveted. having grown up in chicago, later relocating to pittsburgh, he’s always been a big city guy. big cities have their own charms, quirks, and rituals– but none the way that you’re describing to him. he likes that about cradle point. that you have a story for every square inch of this town.

“so. why did you move here?” you ask. it’s an innocent enough question, and you’re not the first person who has asked it but it still makes his heart seize up. “i mean– i’m just not used to new people. you’re probably gathering that none of us are.”

“yup, i’ve gathered that much.” he tries not to sound too irritable. it’s not your fault you’re asking. it’s not your fault that he’s so fucked up, that he feels like he can’t run fast enough away from his past. “i was just ready for a change.”

“and where did you move from?”

“pittsburgh.”

“did you like it?”

“yeah, until i didn’t.” he sighs. “i’m sorry. i’m not trying to be a hardass.”

shaking your head, you look down at your hands. “no, i’m sorry i’m prying.”

“don’t be. don’t be, really– i’m the asshole. trust me.”

you begin approaching your street. it’s idyllic– framed with trees, sloping hills with various beautiful beach homes surrounding it. the beach is but a stone’s throw away, and he feels a pang of jealousy. he’s certainly not without the funds, but a beachside home was not in the cards for him. “this is me,” you point to the home, and he smiles a little. of course it is. it’s quaint, but charming. there’s a beautiful garden out front and a cat napping in the front window. “thank you again.”

“you’re welcome. and about before, i–”

“nope. no more apologies needed.” you give a reassuring smile. “thank you for the antibiotics. thank you for the drive. and…” you fumble around in your purse for your store business card and a pen, scribbling a string of numbers onto it. “if you ever want a book recommendation…” you pass the card to him. “just let me know.”

staring down at the card, your logo– a cat sleeping on a stack of books– he rubs his thumb on the worn paper where you’ve just written your phone number with the word “cell” ahead of it. he wonders how long it’s been in your bag. if you give these out to just anyone. “i’ll do that.”

with a final smile and a wave, you speed walk towards your house. he watches to make sure you get inside safely. when the door has shut, he leans his forehead onto the steering wheel, a long breath coming from deep in his chest.

twenty feet away, you’re leaning with your back against your front door, your hand on your chest, an identical breath coming out of you.