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woniverse-writes · 2 days ago

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Dancing with ENHA as their Secret-Girlfriend!Idol!Reader

summary: enha dancing with their secret significant other

word count: 4.2k

warnings: suggestive at times, not proofread, fem reader

Lee Hee Seung:

It was public knowledge that you and Heeseung were friends since you had trained together at one point

However it was NOT public knowledge that you two actually ended up becoming a couple after you both debuted

With that being said, fans were overjoyed any time you were seen together, always thinking your interactions were so cute and wholesome

One day a video of the two of you pre-debut got leaked

It was a clip of a practice video of you dancing to “Bonnie & Clyde” by DEAN

The choreography was good and you both danced well, but anyone watching could tell that the two young trainees were nervous to be dancing with each other

Fans of both groups thought the video was pure gold though since it showcased how much you’d both grown as performers, and the fact that it was another interaction between their favs

The video trended on social media for about a week or so before the chatter and excitement was redirected to a NEW dance practice video…

which just so happened to be of you and Heeseung recreating the choreography from so many years in full

It was a well filmed, high quality performance

The two of you had even gone the extra mile and re-recorded the song as a duet, making it a full cover

Any trace of the awkwardness from your trainees days had been nowhere to be found

You and heeseung were dripping confidence and sex appeal as you danced together

A majority of the dance was spent with the the two of you in close contact- his arms around your waist, your palms trailing down his chest, him hands tracing the outline of your body

you were practically in your own little bubble and that shit read very clearly on camera

Of course your fans went even more feral

Twitter was full of praise for your growth and everyone was saying how you and heeseung must be so much closer now than back then

(if only they knew just how close👀)

And of course there were some smart fans (that unfortunately probably got called delusional) who could sense the thick sexual tension between the two of you

✪ ‘Y’all- there is absolutely NO WAY these two aren’t fucking😭’ ✪ ‘I genuinely feel like i’m interrupting something’ ✪ ‘Heeseung… if you’re not gonna get to work please step aside so i can have my turn with y/n’

It definitely was added to every single “top kpop moments of 20XX” video and thread

And since you’re both evil-

You each had made casual posts on sns about the process after

‘Did engene enjoy our little throwback collab?’ and the bitch posted a mirror selfie of the two of you sweaty and half dressed🧍‍♀️

Park Jong Seong:

Jay always loved watching you dance

Tbh jay loved to watch you do anything- but dancing was one of his favorites

Any time you had a comeback, he always wanted you to teach him the choreography as soon as possible- whether it was cute, sexy, or fierce- that boy was gonna learn it

Which meant when the song actually dropped he’d be the first to make a tik tok with you every time

And of course the opposite rang true as well-

Whenever enhypen had a comeback you were the first to learn the new choreo

The tik toks are always so cute too-

Like- that’s your man so of course you’re gonna be cute with him lmao

It’s mostly because you know he gets flustered so easily when you tease him or flirt with him in front of the other members or staff

It’s especially hectic when your comeback schedules overlap because trust their will be new tik toks every other day

You guys got especially brave when enha was promoting “bite me”...

Instead of just doing the pre-chorus together and posting that like the others, you did the whole pre-chorus AND chorus… WITH THE PARTNER WORK

If fans weren’t already going feral over the boys dancing with partners before, they definitely lost their shit at your mini collab

✪ ‘Oh my god… there’s no way this is real’ ✪ ‘Jay… your hands are a little low there buddy😅’ ✪ ‘So they just casually covered half of ‘Bite Me’ on a random Thursday? Okay cool’ ✪ ‘THE WAY JAY LOOKS AT Y/N OMFG’

It actually took fans longer than expected to realize you were filming together even when your promotional schedules didn’t lineup, so of course rumors started eventually

However it seemed like your fans were just rolling with it since your interactions were fun an cute (they’ve been praying for a collab stage between your groups since debut)

There was one time you filmed with heeseung instead of Jay and it lowkey threw everyone for a loop

Was it intentional? Absolutely not! Well- maybe slightly

You and your members were curious to see if anyone would react- had your fans even noticed that you only ever film with Jay? (yes, they noticed it right away)

So you can imagine the comments when you posted of you and Heeseung doing the choreo for “brought the heat back”

✪ ‘Uhmmm?? What happened to your man???’ ✪ ‘Omg no mom and dad are fighting‘ ✪ ‘HEESEUNG PLZ TELL ME YOU CAN FIGHT BRO’ ✪ ‘Peace and love but where is Jay…”

Yeah… it gave y’all a good laugh

There have also been plenty of time where you’ve posted your own little dance covers without Jay, or even just danced to his songs casually on live while jamming out, which always excited fans of both groups

Basically his fans and yours know SOMETHING is going on between you two and for some reason no one really talks about it like you’d expect them to…

Sim Jae Yun:

You and jake had been invited to be part of an end-of-the-year collab stage

It was supposed to be a fun little performance between a few different male and female idols

At the time- the only people who knew about your relationship were your groupmates, meaning it was especially hard to see each other without getting caught

However when your manager gave you the news that you’d be collaborating with a few different idols, and that your boyfriend just so happened to be one of them, your heart started to race

You attended a meeting with your manager in which you were informed that you’d be working with Lee Isa, Kim Gaeul, Kang Minhee, Park Jisung, and of course Jake

The stage would have three parts- a section for the girls, a section for the boys, and then one where you all came together

The overall vibe was fun and flirty, and you’d each be partnered with someone

The second the idea of “partners” was introduced, you and jake immediately made (what you thought was subtle, but was definitely not) eye-contact

The meeting wrapped up and you were immediately conversing with you were manager, trying to subtly convey how you thought it would make most sense for you and Jake to be partners

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was doing the exact same thing

Luckily, it worked and both of your managers were able to get the two of you to be partners

You all began preparing immediately, and since some of the partner work was different for each pair you’d all broken off to learn separate bits of choreography

You and Jake had begun working on a few different combinations, since the song decisions hadn’t been entirely finalized yet

The first one you worked on was to “Invitation” by JUNNY and Gaeko, which totally fit the vibe of the overall stage concept

Except it was maybe a bit TOO flirty (or perhaps that was just you and Jake)

You were easily able to connect and play into the each other’s artistry

Your relationship had always been full of playful energy and putting a smile on the other person’s face, so dancing together just felt like another extension of that

The choreography was intense and fast, hitting every accent and ad-lib, requiring a lot of texture and groove

but after learning the steps and running it once or twice to get the moves down it felt like second nature, especially since all your charisma and stage presence was really just you having fun with your boyfriend

Lots of behind the scenes content was filmed and unfortunately… some got leaked to the public

Somehow yours and jake’s first dance practice got leaked, as well as Jisung and Isa’s and the video of yours, Gaeul, and Isa’s section

This was before anything was announced to let the public know a collab was even happening so fans were shocked on so many levels

✪ ‘We’ve got (your group), enhypen, ive, nct, stayc, and cravity members doing a collab?? Where did this even come from???’ ✪ ‘Gaeul, Y/n, and Isa dancing to “greedy” by Ariana Grande was not something i knew i needed- welcome back “wow thing” collab group’ ✪ ‘Jake and Y/n look like they’re having so much fun together i love them :(‘ ✪ ‘I feel like I've never seen Jake have this much fun while dancing! You can tell he really feels comfortable dancing with Y/n’ ✪ ‘The way they look at each other, oh i feel sick’

Unfortunately after that all the songs and choreography had to be changed :/

Park Sung Hoon:

Close by Nick Jonas

As the main dancer of your group, your company loves to highlight you any chance they get

This resulted in you doing frequent dance videos, collabing with other idols in order to reach outside your normal audience and hopefully attract some new fans

Sunghoon, ever the supportive boyfriend, makes sure you tell him every time a new video is going to be released so that he can have youtube open and ready for when it drops

texts you immediately after about how talented you are and how proud he is of you for taking on the challenges of choreographing and coming up with new ways to showcase your skills as a performer

Sometimes will just randomly pull up your videos and start watching them while y’all are hanging out

You had always told him beforehand who you’d be dancing with and he never expressed being bothered by any of your idol partners-

until he realized you yourself were picking them

You were sitting in his bed one day (watching one of your recent videos lol) when he suddenly looked up at you with the saddest puppy eyes ever

“How come you’ve never asked me to dance with you☹️”

Oh he’d be so pouty and sulky omg

You’d been expecting that question for a while honestly

“Baby I’d love to dance with you, but would your company let us?”

sunghoon hated that you had to be logical all the time, so he just rolled over to bury his face in your stomach, and groaned in despair

(This drama queen)

He eventually just wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted his head to rest his chin on your tummy, peering up at you

“Can we ask them tomorrow…”

You couldn’t stop the affectionate giggle that left you as you played with his hair and nodded softly

The next day, you talked to your manager first- proposing your next idea

Now you see- your manager loves sunghoon, your whole staff does really

They all think the two of you are perfect together, and would honestly probably announce you were official right this second if hybe let them

So it wasn’t a problem convincing your team to let you dance with your boyfriend

Of course that wasn’t exactly the case for Sunghoon’s team

It definitely made sense why they weren’t totally onboard with the idea- being worried about dating rumors and such- but you and hoon hadn’t had a single rumor involving each other up to that point!

They eventually caved and agreed, realizing it would be a good opportunity since all the other idols you had invited so far were all known as well-respected dancers in the industry

You ended up decided on going for a more intimate and contemporary vibe than you had done so far

“Close” by Nick Jonas and Tove Lo was the song you had agreed on using, having had already talked about choreographing to this song together just for fun at some point

You had worked with a choreographer from hybe, expressing your vision and showing some of the ideas you had, and the process went extremely smooth

The dance ended up being sensual and emotional, highlighting both of your skills as contemporary dancers

A good chunk of the choreography was spent with the two of you having very little physical contact, but being so close to each other that it delivered such a feeling a yearning

However, the last chorus totally changed the vibe

You two walked backward, facing away from each other, and right as you were about to bump into each other sunghoon abruptly turned around gripping your shoulder and whirling you to face him- leading to a sequence of quick spins and paired movements, finally breaking the pattern of avoiding physical contact

And the rest of the dance spent with you two practically glued together

The performance continued with sunghoon pulling you in toward him, you running your hands up his chest and neck and landing softly on his face before pulling him down to almost meet your lips

The two of you slowly walked together to the beat of the music until sunghoon’s back was hitting the wall

It came to an end with hoon sliding down into a seated position on the floor, leaning against the wall- you sliding down in sync, landing on his lap- his face still in your hands, his hands on your hips, foreheads leaned against each other’s

The choreography was so intimate that unfortunately hybe’s fears came true

The dating rumors were instantaneous…

✪ ‘This is such an unexpected pairing but it makes so much sense’ ✪ ‘Oh! My bad y’all i’ll just- i can just- uhm- lemme just leave the room and come back later’ ✪ ‘I know y/n said this performance was gonna be a bit different from her other’s but i didn’t think THIS is what she meant😭’ ✪ ‘Soooo, is this a safe space to say I wholeheartedly believe Y/nHoon is real?’ ✪ ‘Girl Y/nHoon BETTER be real after THAT’ ✪ 'the thoughts i'm thinking... i feel like my account would get suspended if i shared them👀'

And if that wasn’t enough to get them going, there was all the behind the scenes material as well

Both your company and hybe had released behind the scenes videos of the project, except they couldn’t have been more different

While the one posted to enhypen’s channel was mostly sunghoon being interviewed and shots of him practicing individually, with the occasional partner shot or interaction between you two

Your behind the scenes video had plenty of shots of you and hoon laughing and playfully bickering together

Clips of you finishing the choreography and falling against him, with him wrapping his arms around you and swaying back and forth circulated twitter immediately

There were plenty of other moments that had fans fawning over your relationship

Such as when you wrapped up filming and sunghoon slid his hands from your hips to fully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you down to lay on top of him on the ground

Let’s just say hybe had to release a statement pretty soon after that

Kim Seon Woo:

Sunoo and you always post together

vlogs, lives, story posts- you name it

Most fans never really thought anything of it since a majority of the time it was just you two shopping, trying new snacks, or talking about skincare

But there was also so much content you didn’t post

Like the countless couples tik tok trends that are sitting in your drafts (his favorite is the one where you put on lipstick and accidentally smudged it, then the camera turns to him covered in lipstick kiss marks)

But there are also surprisingly a lot of random dance videos you have of the two of you

Sometimes when you’re hanging out at one of your company’s studios you’ll just turn on a song and come up with fun random choreography

One of Sunoo’s favorites that you guys have come up with was to “Wildflower” by 5 seconds of summer

It was sensual and flirty, but still fun and cute- and the video conveys that perfectly with how much the two of you are giggling and clinging to each other

It started off really well! Both of you were locked in, hitting the snaps and beats perfectly, your expressions nothing short of perfect and professional

But the second it got to the chorus your smiles were overtaking your faces as you tried to stay focused on the choreography and not burst out laughing

You still danced the routine perfectly! There just came a point in the dance where neither of you could stop smiling at each other

By the final chorus you were fully teasing your giggly boyfriend by mouthing the words with an overly flirtatious expression while running your hands down his neck and chest, causing him to squeeze your waist and teasingly pull you into him making you burst out laughing, before finishing out the dance with the biggest smiles anyone has ever seen

You both often rewatch the video and your smiles end up being almost as big as the ones you had in the video

You were sitting with Sunoo one day and asked him if it was okay to post it to your personal account, and he excitedly agreed

However- for some reason you didn’t check to make sure you were on your private account instead of your groups account before you hit post, and without realizing, uploaded your choreography to your groups official instagram with the caption ‘me and my wildflower sunny baby☀️🌺’

It was only about 15 minutes later when sunoo was scrolling through his own instagram when he turned to you panicked

“Baby… you posted it on the wrong account”

“WHAT?????”

You immediately called your manager crying and freaking out, while sunoo called jungwon trying to explain the situation

Both your management teams came to the agreement that no one would say anything about the video unless it got severely out of hand

They thought it would be best to keep the video up to avoid suspicion, However, you did have to change the caption

Aside from the crazies, most fans were eating it up!

✪ ‘I love that they’re so comfortable with each other, this is so cute’ ✪ ‘Their smiles and giggles🥺’ ✪ ‘I feel like we never get to see sunoo’s dance abilities highlighted, so i’m honestly grateful that y/n shared this’ ✪ ‘Oh they’re so in love don’t even try to deny it’

Yang Jung Won:

You had been hinting to your fans about doing more dance content, but the last thing they expected was for a video of you and jungwon dancing to “two hands” by Tate McCrae to randomly show up on your groups youtube channel one day

The video was professionally recorded in a cool location and the two of you had on cool but comfortable outfits

Basically y’all looked cunty asf and everyone was losing their shit over it but we’ll come back to that

The choreography involved the two of you being in some sort of physical contact for almost the entire thing

And when you weren’t touching, you were face to face staring into each other’s soul

It was lowkey like you were leading the dance at times and jungwon was hypnotized by your movements (which let’s be honest, he totally was)

By the last chorus, you and your boyfriend were in full contact

Jungwon’s hands had pulled you in closely, your hands resting on his chest with his low on your back

There was a moment where you just sensually gazed into to each other’s eyes, caressing each other while you mouthed the words to the song

Jungwon leaned in closing his eyes, fully preparing to kiss you, but you teasingly turned your head back toward the camera right as your lips were about to meet, giving a flirtatious wink and smile

The turn caused jungwon’s lips to brush your neck, but the way it was captured by the camera made it hard to tell if he actually made contact with your skin

The rest of the dance consisted of one or both of you having your hands on the other without a break, never breaking the connection

There was even a part where you had your hand on your boyfriend’s face and he followed your movement, seemingly hypnotized by your touch

Jungwon’s hands quickly found their place on your hips shortly after

The dance finished with two posing- you in front of him, reaching behind to place your hand on the back of his neck, as he placed his hands on your hips

Won gently rubbed your hip as he waited for the director to call cut, ad when they did he collapsed against you, fully wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck

(That cute moment was captured and posted on your instagram story after the official video dropped)

Speaking of social media…

The thing is, both you and your boyfriend are chaotic and slightly evil, so the second the video dropped y’all were refreshing twitter to see people’s reactions

✪ ‘Oh okay so they’re a thing’ ✪ ‘Yang Jungwon and L/n Y/n… WHAT IS THIS????’ ✪ ‘So like- do y’all need a third or…’ ✪ ‘HIS LIPS WERE LITERALLY ON HER NECK I’M NOT CRAZY’ ✪ ‘Need whatever they’ve got goin on real bad’ ✪ ‘Jungwon heard the lyrics “your two hands on me at all times” and took that shit literally wow’ ✪ ‘Y/n turning to look at the camera right as won is about to kiss her… GIRL MOVE IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA KISS THAT BOY’ ✪ ‘The hand placement, oh i’m so fucked’ ✪ ‘L/n Y/n the woman you are…’ ✪ ‘The way Jungwon’s movements get obviously more desperate at the end of the choreography when Y/n has her hands on his face… WALK HIM LIKE A DOG MAMA😛’

You and Jungwon were giggling and saving posts were a good two hours

Nishimura Riki:

It wasn’t unusual for you and ni-ki to hang out in a practice room and just jam, coming up with random choreography combinations for fun

It also wasn’t a secret that the two of you knew each other and hung out, but most just assumed you were friends since you had also hung out with other members of enhypen before

However neither of you had ever posted anything together aside from mayne a couple of tik toks

So it came as a shock to his fans (and yours) when Ni-Ki went live, only for everyone to see him cozied up in one of hybe’s practice rooms with you

The live started with the two of you laying on the floor with the phone propped up against the mirror wall at the front of the room, just chatting and giggling over random stuff (losers in love)

In fact Riki was so chatty that fans were even starting to comment on it

‘The only time Riki has stopped giggling or yapping has been to listen intently to y/n..’

‘I swear these two are so chatty together, what's going on??’

Eventually you guys started getting antsy and decided to turn on some music and jam again

It was just some ciphering back and forth for a while until “pour up” by DEAN came on and you froze and made eye contact

“Should we do it?” Ni-Ki asked in regard to the choreography the two of you had come up with to the song earlier that week

“I mean… why not?” you shrugged with a mischievous smile

“It’s a little… risky- don’t you think?” he giggled while unconsciously moving closer to you, but you just giggled in return before starting the choreography while holding eye contact

He laughed a bit in shock, watching you dance for a few more seconds before joining in

By the time the chorus arrived the two of you were locked in, facing forward again toward the camera

It seemed like pretty tame choreography at first with a slightly sensual

Until the second verse came

You and Riki started crossing paths and interacting more within the choreography, showing off just how much chemistry you have together as dance partners

There were plenty of little moments with little flirtatious touches here and there but the connection was on full display by the last few seconds of the song, with Riki’s arm draped casually around your waist as the two of you swayed side to side

You pretended to walk off as the song ended, still feeling the vibe, but as soon as the next song started playing you screamed dramatically and fell to floor in a heap of embarrassment, leaving your boyfriend to laugh at you from behind

Ni-Ki walked past you back to the phone to check the comments and he noticed the viewer count has tripled since before you started dancing

✪ ‘They way they just casually match each others vibe like it’s nothing’ ✪ ‘So can we all agree we need more Y/n and Riki dance content??’ ✪ ‘I would 100% be asking “what are we?” after this…' ✪ ‘Y/n falling to the ground and screaming after, she’s so real’ ✪ ‘OMG LOOK AT HOW RED THEY ARE NOW AWWWW BABIES’

Neither of you could look at each other without giggling for the rest of the live

notes: hey y'all... i'm back (kinda)

664 notes · View notes

puppym3 · 2 days ago

Text

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

wc: 3.4k

warnings: MDNI 18+, fluff, humor, a lot of cringy but cute back-and-forth, changbin almost burns the house down, oral (f and m rec), overstim, ingestion of certain fluid, they're in love fr

a/n: me going through my inbox is just a way for me to delay having to finish my lee know fic :( BUT I ENJOYED WRITING THIS SM thank you anon i love u

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The kitchen smelled like ambition.

Or maybe it was just the faint aroma of something on the verge of burning.

“Bin,” you called, watching your boyfriend juggle chopping onions, stirring a pot of boiling water, and checking the oven. His brow glistened with concentration, his tongue poking out in that adorable way he always did when he was trying too hard. “You’re gonna lose control of this entire operation.”

“No, I’m not!” Changbin barked, glancing between the stovetop and the cutting board like they were part of a high-stakes mission. “I’ve got this!”

It was a bold statement for someone whose onions were uneven, whose pasta water threatened to overflow, and whose oven timer was blinking aggressively like a silent SOS.

You leaned against the counter, trying to contain a smile. After weeks of playful jabs about his limited culinary repertoire, Changbin had insisted he’d cook dinner tonight. Secret lessons with Chan and Felix had boosted his confidence, but clearly, multitasking wasn’t part of the curriculum.

“I don’t mean to sound dramatic,” you teased, eyeing the smoke wafting from the pan, “but I think something’s dying over there.”

He whipped around, panicked, spotting the chicken in the skillet that was quickly approaching charred territory. “Oh no, no, no!” Grabbing the spatula, he flipped the pieces frantically, knocking a spoon off the counter in the process.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore; you burst out laughing. “You’re trying so hard! Look at you!”

“Stop laughing!” he pouted, eyes wide and a little frantic. “I’m doing this for you, you know!”

Your heart melted. He was a sweaty, stressed-out, multitasking mess, but he was your mess. Crossing the room, you leaned over and plucked the spatula from his hands, gently pushing him aside. “Okay, okay. Let me help before we set the smoke alarm off.”

Changbin groaned, leaning his head against the cabinet in defeat. “I really thought I could do it all.”

“You can do it all. Just… not all at once.” You grinned, tilting his chin up so you could look into his dark, sulky eyes. “But you’re trying, and that’s so sweet. You deserve a kiss for that.”

Before he could protest, you leaned in and pecked him on the lips. His scowl melted instantly.

“And another kiss for being so cute while you’re at it,” you added, stealing another quick one.

Changbin narrowed his eyes, a mischievous smile creeping onto his lips. “Are you bribing me with kisses to get me out of cooking duty?”

“Is it working?”

“Absolutely.”

The kitchen forgotten, Changbin pulled you close, his hands warm against your waist. His lips found yours, softer and slower this time, his earlier stress dissolving into something sweeter. But, of course, it wouldn’t be Changbin without a little chaos, his foot accidentally knocked into the open oven door, jolting both of you.

“Careful!” you yelped, pulling back as he winced.

“See? I can’t even focus on kissing you without messing something up.” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head.

“Oh, poor baby,” you cooed, stroking his cheek. “Maybe multitasking isn’t your thing, but you’ve got other talents.”

“Like what?” His tone was skeptical, but his grin was boyish, teasing.

“Hmm, let’s see…” You pretended to think, tapping your chin. “You’re great at lifting heavy things, making me laugh, being ridiculously hot…”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Ridiculously hot, huh?”

"Mmmhm, especially in this incredibly sexy apron. And in general, actually." You reached around him, giving his ass a little squeeze. "This is also a good asset."

He snorted, pulling you close and nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And my incredibly tall height? What about that?"

"Oh, I've always been attracted to short sexy men."

You squealed, bursting into giggles as he began to tickle your sides. He lifted you off the ground easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him soundly.

"See, lifting heavy things," you said breathlessly as he lowered you.

Changbin set you back on the ground gently, his grin widening at your flushed cheeks and breathless laughter. “I’m glad my assets are appreciated,” he teased, his deep voice dripping with playful arrogance.

“Oh, more than appreciated,” you shot back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Adored. Worshipped. Cherished, even.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly against him. “You better not be saying all this just to distract me from cooking.”

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, leaning closer until your lips brushed his ear. “Because I’d rather have you focus on me instead of burning down the apartment.”

Changbin’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “Dangerous,” he murmured, his voice lower now, laced with something that made your stomach flutter. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

You tilted your head, brushing a kiss along his jaw. “Am I?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he turned, pinning you gently against the counter, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You know I’m bad at multitasking,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from yours. “So if you want all my attention, you’re gonna get it.”

Your teasing grin faltered under his heated gaze, your heart hammering as his hands traveled from your hips to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips met yours with more intensity this time, his earlier playfulness replaced with something deeper, hungrier.

The kiss deepened quickly, his hands roaming as he pressed you against the cool counter. You could feel the warmth of his body, the firmness of his chest against yours, and the way his lips moved with an urgency that made your knees weak.

“Changbin,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your lips, his mouth curving into a mischievous smile.

“You’re gonna forget about the stove,” you managed to gasp between kisses.

“Let it burn,” he growled, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, anchoring him in place as his lips found the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

You gasped, tilting your head back as he kissed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to send shivers racing down your spine. His hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm and firm as he explored the curve of your waist.

“You’re so distracting,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice tinged with mock frustration. “How am I supposed to focus on anything when you look at me like that?”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you shot back, tugging at his shirt.

He grinned, stepping back just enough to pull his shirt over his head before diving back in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. The combination of his warmth, his strength, and the way he was completely focused on you was enough to make your head spin.

Your fingers trailed over the toned muscles of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the way they tensed under your touch. “Ridiculously hot,” you muttered, earning a breathy laugh from him.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” he quipped, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

His hands gripped your thighs, sliding higher as his kisses became slower, more deliberate, each one drawing a soft sound from your lips. You tugged him closer, lost in the heat of the moment until—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You jumped, pulling back with a start as the smoke alarm screeched through the room. Changbin spun around, swearing under his breath as he hurried to turn the stove off, the chicken now burned beyond recognition.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing the pan and moving it to the sink, a thick trail of smoke following in his wake.

You hopped off the counter, hurrying to open the window, hoping the cold winter air would help dissipate the smoke. After a few moments, the beeping finally stopped, leaving just you, dying with laughter, reeling from the adrenaline and Changbin, standing shirtless and slightly embarrassed, surrounded by a cloud of smoke.

"So much for dinner," he muttered, shooting you a sheepish smile.

"I can think of something else we can have for dinner," you said, crossing the room and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's that?"

You smirked, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Something that you can put all of your attention into," you whispered, feeling him shiver as your words ghosted across his lips.

"And what's that?" he asked, his voice lower now, thick with the desire you knew had been simmering between the two of you since the beginning.

"Me."

"You sure about that? I might just burn more than the dinner if I focus on you."

You grinned, tracing the edge of his jaw with your finger. "Well, it’s not like you're any good at multitasking anyway," you teased, lifting your chin defiantly. "I’m sure you can handle me just fine if you give me your full attention."

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. "Oh, I’m about to give you all my attention, baby. Trust me, you won’t be complaining."

A flutter of excitement washed over you at his words, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Good. Because if I’m the only thing on your mind right now, I might just make you forget everything else… including that chicken you ruined."

"Forget the chicken?" Changbin murmured, his lips brushing against your neck as he nipped gently at the soft skin there. "What chicken?"

You sighed, your breath hitching as his hands slid down to grip your hips, his thumbs brushing over the waistband of your jeans. "You’re getting bold, huh?" you teased, glancing up at him with a challenging look.

"Bold?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping to a deep, almost sinful tone.

The air between you two grew thicker with tension as he pressed you up against the counter again, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more insistent, as if he was trying to imprint himself on you, claiming you in every way he knew how.

You moaned softly against his lips, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed under your touch. "Maybe you are good at focusing on just one thing," you teased, pulling away slightly, your voice breathless.

Changbin’s smile grew, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, sending a jolt of heat through you. "And I can assure you, you’re going to be my only focus tonight."

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your pulse quicken. His hands roamed lower, tracing the curves of your body as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing into yours as if he couldn't get enough.

You couldn't either.

You tugged at his belt, trying to free the buckle, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours. "You're not the only one who can get distracted," you panted, finally getting the stubborn thing undone.

Changbin grinned, his hands finding their way under the waistband of your jeans, squeezing the flesh of your ass and making you gasp. "Aren't you going to let me eat my meal up? You did promise me dinner," he teased, nipping at your bottom lip.

"Who says you're the only one eating tonight?"

"Oh, really? Is that a challenge, baby?" His hands were back on the button of your pants, quickly undoing them and sliding them down your hips. "Because if it is, I'm ready."

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, reveling in the way he groaned against you, the sound sending a rush of heat straight between your legs. "Bring it," you murmured, tugging at his belt loops.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you close, his hands firm and steady as he lifted you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, and your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly as he carried you into the bedroom.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, he was on top of you, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that had your skin buzzing with anticipation.

"Now," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Where were we?"

You arched into his touch, desperate for more. "Right about here, I think."

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That's right."

His hands were back under your shirt, sliding the fabric over your head before tossing it aside. You were already working on his buttoned pants, tugging the zipper down as he unclasped your bra, the garment quickly joining the rest of your clothes on the floor.

Changbin took a moment to admire you, his gaze trailing over your naked body, a fire in his eyes that had you aching for him.

"I'm definitely hungry now," he muttered, his voice thick with desire.

"So am I," you whispered, tugging at his waistband. "Take these off and feed me."

"Bossy." He grinned, quickly discarding his remaining clothes. "Is this better?"

You bit your lip, your eyes drinking in the sight of him, naked and hard and waiting for you. "Much better."

Without another word, he leaned down, his lips trailing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You shivered, a soft moan escaping your lips as his tongue traced circles around your clit, teasing you relentlessly.

Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to anchor yourself, but it was impossible when his touch was setting every nerve ending alight. His fingers parted you, and his tongue swirled around your clit, lapping at you in long, languid strokes.

"F-fuck," you gasped, the pleasure washing over you in waves.

Changbin smiled against you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he continued his delicious torture, his tongue exploring every inch of you until you were a whimpering mess.

"Oh my god," you panted, your back arching off the bed as he slid two fingers inside of you, his movements slow and deliberate.

"This tastes way better than any burnt chicken," he murmured, his breath hot against you.

Before you could respond, he curled his fingers, finding the sweet spot deep inside you and making you cry out. "Shit, right there."

"Mmm, like that, baby?" he asked, his tone low and teasing.

"Y-yes," you moaned, unable to stop the string of whimpers that fell from your lips.

He picked up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out of you while his tongue lapped at your clit, the combined sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair, your hips bucking as the pleasure built, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation.

"Changbin, I'm gonna—"

Your words were cut off by a loud moan as the orgasm crashed over you, his tongue and fingers guiding you through the wave of ecstasy.

You collapsed against the mattress, gasping for breath, your whole body tingling with satisfaction.

"God, you taste so fucking good," Changbin groaned, his lips moving over your clit in slow, lazy circles as he worked you down from your high.

"Wait- wait," you managed to say between gasps, tugging at his hair.

He pulled away, his eyes dark and filled with lust. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing, just- fuck, I need a minute," you said, trying to catch your breath.

Changbin's lips curved into a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint. "No can do, baby. I'm hungry, and you promised me dinner."

With that, he leaned down, his mouth finding your sensitive clit once again, his tongue moving with renewed intensity. You cried out, overstimulation making sparks shoot down your spine.

"Wait- fuck!"

He ignored your pleas, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue swirled around your clit, his pace quickening. Your moans filled the room, the sound echoing off the walls as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh my god, Changbin," you gasped, your hands grasping at the sheets, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

His fingers dug into your thighs, the pressure almost bruising as he pulled you closer, his tongue flicking over your clit, relentless and demanding.

"Changbin- I- fuck, I'm gonna—"

The rest of the words died on your lips, swallowed by the scream that ripped from your throat as the orgasm tore through you. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work over your clit, drawing the pleasure out until you were shaking and trembling beneath him.

"Holy fuck," you breathed, the room spinning as you struggled to catch your breath.

"That's what I like to hear," Changbin murmured, his lips grazing the skin of your inner thigh.

"Jesus, Bin, give me a second," you said, still gasping for air.

He grinned, sitting up and looking at you with a smug expression. "What's the matter, baby? Can't keep up with me?"

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. "It's just, I think it's not fair if you get to eat and I can't."

He tilted his head, considering your words. "I guess you're right."

"And you know what's really not fair? Not being able to take a breather after a mind-blowing orgasm."

"You're the one who said I should put all my attention on one thing," he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean like that."

"Hmm, I think you did," he replied, leaning in and kissing the spot right behind your ear, the one that always made your toes curl.

"You're insatiable," you whispered, your breath hitching as his hand trailed over the curve of your waist, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You pushed him back, not giving him a chance to catch you off guard again, finding your way in between his legs. "My turn," you smirked, running your fingers along the length of his cock.

His breath hitched, his eyes following your movements intently, darkening with desire.

You leaned forward, kissing the tip before taking him into your mouth. He let out a low groan, his hand tangling in your hair, his grip firm but gentle.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice strained.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan around him, the sound vibrating through your lips.

His grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let out a string of curses.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he gasped, his hips bucking against your mouth.

You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression making heat pool in the pit of your stomach. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, and his face was flushed with desire.

"Baby, please," he moaned, his voice low and raspy.

You continued to suck him off, working your tongue along the underside of his cock, reveling in the way he came undone under your touch.

"Fuck, I'm close," he warned, his fingers tightening in your hair.

You didn't let up, your hands gripping his thighs as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke.

His grip on your hair tightened, his hips bucking erratically as he neared the edge.

"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned, his voice thick with arousal.

You moaned, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He came with a strangled cry, his release spilling down your throat.

You swallowed every drop, your eyes never leaving his as you worked him through his orgasm. The taste was addictive, and you couldn't help but lick him clean, savoring every moment.

"Fuck," he breathed, his body trembling.

"See, that's not so bad, is it?" you teased, sitting back on your heels and licking your lips.

"Not bad at all," he panted, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

You kissed the tip of his cock, smiling up at him. "Good."

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me," he muttered, his eyes glazed over with pleasure.

You grinned, crawling up the bed and settling next to him, your head resting on his chest. "Good."

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're amazing."

"I know."

"And so fucking sexy," he added, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone.

"I know that too."

Before he could say anything else, you heard his stomach growl, making you giggle. "Maybe we should order some actual food."

"Mmm, good idea," he said, his lips curving into a lazy smile.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

taglist for my lovelies : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88, @honeyybbuubblleess

#stray kids x reader #skz #skz fic #stray kids #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids smut #changbin smut #changbin #changbin x reader #changbin stray kids #changbin skz #changbin imagines

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estellan0vella · 15 hours ago

Text

Hopelessly In Love: Y.J Yang Jeongin x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 15.8K

CW: Jeongin being a flirt, Minsung content, Mentions of sexuality denial, Jeongin being hopeless, Felix, Jisung, Minho and Hyunjin wingmanning from behind the scenes

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

The walk to the Alpha Phi house feels longer than it should, partly because you’ve been replaying every possible interaction in your head since Seungmin texted you the address. Your white tote bag swings at your side, the word “ugh” printed in bold brown lettering staring back at you as a perfect encapsulation of how out of place you feel. The thought of stepping into a frat house, this frat house, the infamous Alpha Phi, makes your palms sweat and your stomach twist.

But Seungmin’s your best friend. If he can handle living there, you can survive one visit for the sake of finishing your mechanical engineering project. Right?

The house looms large and imposing, its brick facade and dark shutters practically daring anyone who isn’t part of the frat to approach. It’s obnoxiously clean for a frat house, like it’s overcompensating for whatever chaos goes on inside.

You clutch your tote bag a little tighter, adjust your cropped white blouse, and tug at the waistband of your brown cargo trousers as you climb the front steps. Faint laughter and bass-heavy music filter through the thick wooden door. It feels like a warning.

Your hand hovers for a moment before you muster up the courage to knock.

It swings open almost immediately, and you’re greeted by a boy with sharp features and dark hair falling loosely over his forehead. He leans against the doorframe like he’s been practising the pose for years. His smirk is lazy, confident, the kind that makes you immediately wary.

“Oh, look at that,” he says smoothly, his tone dripping with mock delight. “Fate drops a pretty girl right on my doorstep.”

Your brain stutters. “Uh…”

The smirk widens like he’s amused by your discomfort. “Name’s Jeongin. And you are?”

You fidget with the strap of your tote bag. “I’m here for Seungmin.”

“Seungmin?” He tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Didn’t know he liked shy girls. Cute.”

“I’m just here for a project.”

“Oh, so you’re single?” he shoots back, like it’s the most natural follow-up question in the world. His voice is laced with teasing, but his sharp eyes watch you closely, clearly enjoying the way you’re struggling to form a coherent response.

You blink at him, entirely caught off guard. “What? I- I don’t-”

“Jeongin, leave her the fuck alone!” The voice cuts through the tension, and you glance past Jeongin to see a man with cherry-red hair appearing at the base of the stairs. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that clings to his frame, and his arms are crossed in a way that screams both authority and exasperation. “You’re fucking scaring her, man.”

“I wasn’t scaring her,” Jeongin argues, though he steps aside to let you into the house. His voice drops into a mock whisper as you pass. “I was flirting.”

“Whatever the fuck you call that, stop,” the red-haired guy shoots back sharply before turning his attention to you. His gaze softens slightly. “You’re here for Seungmin?”

“Yeah,” you manage, relieved to have someone else to focus on. “We’re working on a project.”

“Of course you are,” Jeongin chimes in from his spot by the door. “What kind of project?”

“Mechanical engineering,” you mutter, trying not to meet his eyes.

Jeongin lets out a low whistle. “Smart and pretty? Fuck, Seungmin really hit the jackpot with this one.”

“Jeongin,” the red-haired guy groans, his tone bordering on murderous. “Shut the fuck up before you scare her into running away. I’m Minho, by the way.” He offers you a brief, almost apologetic smile. “Ignore him. He’s an absolute fucking idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Jeongin protests, grinning like he knows exactly how irritating he is. “I’m charming.”

“You’re a cunt,” Minho fires back, not missing a beat.

Before you can even process that exchange, a new voice cuts through the chaos. “What the fuck is going on down there?” You look up to see Seungmin standing at the top of the stairs, his orange hair sticking up like he’s been running his hands through it. He’s wearing a hoodie that looks two sizes too big and a scowl that looks permanent. “Jeongin, are you harassing my friend?”

“Harassing?” Jeongin repeats, his tone dripping with mock indignation. “I’m just processing the fact that you have a pretty little friend.”

“She’s nice, unlike you fucking hyenas,” Seungmin snaps as he descends the stairs, his arms crossed tight over his chest. “She doesn’t need you drooling all over her.”

“I’m more thinking about swapping spit than drooling,” Jeongin says casually, winking in your direction.

You freeze, your face heating up like someone just turned a spotlight on you. “I- I should probably…”

“Jeongin, shut the fuck up,” Minho barks, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. He grabs Jeongin by the collar of his shirt and yanks him back. “That’s it. I’m telling Chan.”

Jeongin whines like a child being sent to time-out. “What the fuck? Don’t do me like that!”

“Shut it, Innie,” Minho says flatly, dragging him deeper into the house. “You’re a fucking disaster.”

“I’m not a disaster,” Jeongin protests, his voice fading as they disappear around a corner. “I’m just-”

“Fucking insufferable,” Minho finishes for him.

Seungmin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose like this whole ordeal has already shaved years off his life. “I’m so fucking sorry about them. Let’s just go upstairs and get away from those fucking idiots.”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble, more than ready to escape the chaos. You glance back toward the direction Minho dragged Jeongin and lower your voice. “Are they always like this?”

Seungmin pauses, hesitating for a beat before sighing. “Yes. Yes, they fucking are. But you get used to it.”

You doubt that. A lot.

As soon as you and Seungmin disappear up the stairs, Jeongin leans back with a theatrical groan, scrubbing a hand down his face. He watches the spot where you vanished, his expression a mix of longing and pure drama, before turning to Minho, who’s still standing nearby with his arms crossed and a look of sheer disbelief.

“That right there,” Jeongin announces, jabbing a thumb toward the stairs. “That’s my future fucking wife.”

Minho doesn’t even try to hide his emotions, raising an eyebrow so high it’s practically halfway up his forehead. “The socially anxious bundle of nerves in the brown cargo pants?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeongin says without missing a beat. His voice is firm, his expression dead serious. “Did you see her ass in those cargos? Fucking poetry, Minho. Pure poetry. I’m gonna marry her.”

Minho blinks, slowly tilting his head like he can’t believe the words coming out of Jeongin’s mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ. You’re absolutely fucking hopeless.”

Jeongin shrugs, entirely unbothered by the insult. “Hopelessly in love.”

Minho rolls his eyes so hard you half expect him to sprain something. “Or just hopelessly fucking horny. Seriously, Innie, you’ve got the emotional depth of a fucking spoon.”

Jeongin smirks, leaning against the wall like the cocky little shit he is. “Hey, at least I know what I want.”

Minho snorts. “Oh yeah? What you want is to scare the poor girl so bad she never comes within a hundred fucking miles of you. Because that’s exactly what you’re doing with your smirking, ‘I’m a fuckboy, love me’ bullshit.”

Jeongin frowns, the smirk faltering just a little. “You think I scared her off?”

“Oh, I fucking know you scared her off,” Minho snaps. “She was practically vibrating with anxiety, and there you are, smirking and talking about swapping spit. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jeongin groans, running a hand through his hair as he paces a few steps back and forth. “Okay, okay. Fuck. Fine. What the fuck do I do, then? Help me out here, Minho. You’re supposed to be my hyung.”

Minho crosses his arms tighter, clearly enjoying watching Jeongin squirm. “Oh no, fuckface. This one’s all on you. You wanna fix this shit, you better find someone who knows how to act like a fucking human being.”

Jeongin stops pacing, his face lighting up like he’s just had the most brilliant idea in the history of ideas. “Felix.”

Minho raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re gonna drag Felix into this? The fuck’s he gonna do? Bake her a cake that says ‘I’m sorry for being a fucking creep’?”

“No, dumbass,” Jeongin snaps, already heading toward the kitchen. “Felix is the nicest motherfucker in this house. He’s practically oozing ‘soft boy’ vibes. He’s gonna teach me how to be sweet.”

“Sweet?” Minho repeats, his tone laced with disbelief as he follows Jeongin. “You? Sweet? That’s fucking rich. This I’ve gotta see.”

The kitchen smells faintly of spices, and Felix is at the counter, carefully slicing vegetables with the kind of precision that makes him look like a Michelin-star chef despite the fact that he’s wearing a hoodie that swallows his frame. His blonde hair glints under the overhead light, and his tongue pokes out slightly in concentration as he arranges the slices on a cutting board.

“Felix!” Jeongin bursts into the kitchen like a man on a mission, dragging a stool over and plopping down dramatically. “I need your help. It’s a fucking emergency.”

Felix looks up, his knife pausing mid-slice. He blinks at Jeongin, then at Minho, who leans against the doorway with an amused smirk. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” Jeongin protests, holding his hands up like he’s being wrongfully accused. “I met my future wife.”

Felix stares at him for a long, silent moment before bursting into laughter. “Oh, this is gonna be fucking good. Go on. What’s the problem?”

“She’s perfect,” Jeongin says, his tone reverent. “She’s smart, shy, sweet, and her ass in those cargo pants…” He trails off, gesturing wildly with both hands. “Breathtaking. Like, life-changing.”

Felix snorts, shaking his head as he resumes chopping. “And let me guess, you scared the absolute shit out of her.”

Jeongin groans, slumping forward to bang his head lightly against the counter. “Minho already fucking bullied me for that.”

“Because he’s not wrong,” Felix says, laughing. “What’d you say to her?”

Jeongin lifts his head, avoiding Felix’s gaze. “I might’ve asked if she was single.”

Felix freezes, the knife hovering mid-air. He stares at Jeongin like he’s trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Dude.”

“What?!” Jeongin exclaims, throwing his hands up defensively. “It’s a valid fucking question!”

“Not when you’ve just met her, you fucking idiot!” Felix says, shaking his head in disbelief.

Jeongin groans again, running both hands through his hair. “Fuck. I’m so fucked, aren’t I?”

Felix sighs, finally setting the knife down and leaning on the counter to face Jeongin directly. “Not necessarily. You just need to stop being, well, you.”

Minho barks out a laugh from the doorway. “Good luck with that.”

“Fuck off, Minho,” Jeongin snaps before turning back to Felix. “Okay, fine. What do I do?”

Felix shrugs, his tone calm and thoughtful. “Be genuine. Girls like that don’t fall for flashy, cocky shit. You’ve gotta show her you’re not just some loudmouth frat bro.”

“Genuine,” Jeongin repeats, frowning like he’s trying to solve a fucking physics equation. “How the fuck do I do that?”

“Start by not commenting on her ass again,” Felix says, deadpan.

Jeongin groans. “But it’s such a-”

“Jeongin,” Felix interrupts, throwing a dish towel at him. “For fuck’s sake, focus. Be sweet. Thoughtful. Maybe even a little vulnerable. Show her you’ve got layers or some shit.”

Jeongin catches the towel, muttering under his breath. “Sweet. Thoughtful. Vulnerable. No ass comments. Got it.”

Felix smirks, already turning back to his vegetables. “Good luck, loverboy. You’re gonna need it.”

Jeongin leans lazily against the counter, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face as he surveys Felix and Minho. “You two are now my official romance senseis. Help me bag the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.”

Felix doesn’t even bother looking up from the stove, where he’s stirring a simmering pot of something that smells obnoxiously good. “Met the girl today and you’re already planning the fucking wedding?”

Jeongin nods, dead serious, like Felix has just complimented his strategic brilliance. “Obviously. Did you see her? Smart, shy, beautiful and those brown cargos?” He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head like he’s in mourning. “Fucking breathtaking.”

Felix finally glances up, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and pity. “Brown cargos, huh? That’s the hill you’re dying on?”

“Dying, getting married, whatever,” Jeongin replies with a dramatic wave of his hand. “Same difference when you’re in love, Felix.”

Minho, perched on a barstool by the counter, nearly chokes on his laugh. “Love? You’re a fucking clown. You’ve known her for what, thirty seconds? And all you did was scare the shit out of her.”

“I didn’t scare her,” Jeongin argues, shooting Minho a glare. “I was—”

“Being a cocky little cunt,” Minho interrupts, his smirk widening. “Which, by the way, she did not look impressed by. You’ve got zero fucking game, Innie.”

Jeongin glares harder, but Felix interrupts by holding out a spoonful of sauce in Minho’s direction. “Here. Taste this. Too spicy? Too bland? It’s for my culinary course.”

Minho leans forward obligingly, taking the spoon into his mouth with the kind of practiced care that makes Jeongin groan in frustration. “What the fuck, guys? My entire love life is on the line, and you’re worried about sauce?”

Minho holds up a finger, ignoring Jeongin entirely as he chews thoughtfully. “Mmm. Pretty good. Needs more garlic, though.”

“More garlic?” Felix echoes, thoughtful, already reaching for the bulb. “Good call.”

“HELLO?” Jeongin’s voice rises to a near shout. “I’m pouring my fucking heart out over here, and you two are acting like fucking Gordon Ramsey and Julia Child!”

Felix chuckles, still focused on his cooking. “Calm your tits, Romeo. You’ll survive another minute.”

Jeongin groans, dragging both hands down his face in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m trusting my future happiness to two fucking culinary nerds.”

Finally, Felix sets the spoon down and turns to Jeongin, wiping his hands on a towel. “Alright, alright. Let’s get serious for a second. First piece of advice? Don't be a cocky shit around her.”

“Yeah,” Minho chimes in, leaning back against the counter. “You looked like you were auditioning for the role of Frat Boy Douchebag #1. That shit’s not gonna fly with someone like her.”

Jeongin narrows his eyes. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Felix says, shooting him a look, “that she’s not the type to fall for your usual bullshit. She’s shy. She’s reserved. You need to ease her in, not bulldoze her with your overconfident dickhead act.”

Jeongin frowns, considering this. “Alright, fine. What the fuck do I do instead?”

Felix leans against the counter, his tone calm but firm. “Be approachable. Genuine. Maybe even a little awkward, it’s endearing if you don’t overdo it.”

“Be awkward?” Jeongin repeats, his face twisting in confusion. “You’re telling me to be awkward on purpose?”

“Yes, dumbass,” Minho says with a smirk. “Girls like her don’t fall for the alpha-male crap. They want someone real. Someone relatable.”

“And don’t fucking comment on her ass again,” Felix adds pointedly. “Compliment her brain, her ideas, her sense of humour, literally anything else.”

Jeongin groans, throwing his head back. “No ass comments? But that’s, like, my signature move.”

“Then retire it,” Minho snaps. “Unless you wanna keep being single.”

Jeongin mutters something under his breath before straightening up, a spark of determination in his eyes. “Alright. What if I take something out of my car engine and ask her to fix it?”

Both Felix and Minho freeze, staring at him like he’s just suggested burning the house down for fun.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” Felix asks, his tone dripping with disbelief.

“Think about it,” Jeongin says, his voice picking up momentum like he’s just cracked the Da Vinci Code. “She’s a mechanical engineering major, right? If I pretend my car’s fucked, she’ll feel all smart and capable for fixing it for me. Bonding over machinery and shit. It’s genius.”

Minho groans, burying his face in his hands. “You’re a fucking moron.”

Felix sighs, looking genuinely exhausted. “Jeongin, no. Do not fuck with your car. That’s manipulative as shit.”

“It’s charming,” Jeongin counters, grinning like he’s won the argument. “I’m showing interest in her skills.”

“You’re using her skills to fake your way into her pants,” Minho corrects sharply. “There’s a difference, dumbass.”

Felix nods. “If you wanna impress her, ask about her work. Don’t make her do it for you.”

Jeongin waves them off, already halfway out the kitchen. “Nah, you guys don’t get it. This is gonna fucking work. Thanks for the advice, senseis.”

Felix watches him go, shaking his head. “We didn’t fucking agree to this.”

Minho snorts, grabbing another spoonful of sauce. “Should we stop him?”

Felix shrugs, smirking. “Nah. Let the dumbass burn. It’ll be entertaining as fuck.”

“You’re not wrong,” Minho says, grinning. “This is gonna be a fucking trainwreck.”

The Alpha Phi house looms just as fucking intimidating as the first time you stepped up to it. You fidget with the strap of your light blue tote bag, its shade perfectly matching your cargos and your scuffed Converse. The cream blouse you’re wearing feels just a little too cropped for comfort, you tug at the hem nervously, wishing you’d chosen literally anything else to wear. But here you are.

It’s just another fucking study session. With Seungmin. Not the chaos crew downstairs. Just focus on that.

You knock on the door, half hoping it’ll take forever for someone to answer. Instead, it swings open so quickly that you take a startled step back. And there he is, Jeongin. He leans against the doorframe like he owns the fucking place, dark hair falling carelessly over his forehead, lips curved into that smug smirk you remember all too well.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth but tinged with something that might actually be nerves. “You’re just the person I was hoping to see.”

You blink, thrown off immediately. “Uh, hi?”

“While I’ve got you here,” Jeongin continues, rubbing the back of his neck, “my car’s been acting like shit. Think you could take a look? You know, since you’re the resident engineering genius.”

“Your car?” you echo, your fingers tightening around your tote bag. “I mean, sure, but I thought Seungmin was-”

“He’s upstairs,” Jeongin interrupts quickly, already stepping outside and gesturing toward the driveway. “This’ll only take a minute, I promise. You’re an engineering major, right? This is totally your thing.”

You hesitate, nerves crawling up your spine, but eventually, you nod. “Okay, I guess.”

Jeongin’s grin widens as he leads the way, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The sleek black car parked in the driveway looks immaculate, which makes you immediately suspicious. He pops the hood with a theatrical flourish, stepping back to give you room.

“Yeah, so it just won’t fucking start,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the engine like it’s some unsolvable mystery. “No idea what the fuck’s wrong.”

You lean over the open hood, the faint smell of motor oil and metal hitting you as you scan the engine. It doesn’t take long for you to notice the glaring issue, and your brows furrow as confusion creeps into your voice. “Uh, your spark plug is gone.”

Jeongin leans in closer, peering over your shoulder like he has any clue what he’s looking at. “What? No way. How the fuck does that even happen?”

You glance at him. “Sometimes car thieves pull a spark plug. That way, the owner can’t drive it, and they can come back later to steal the whole thing.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s a thing?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, poking around the engine for good measure. “It’s not super common, but yeah, it happens.”

Jeongin steps back, running a hand through his hair like he’s just learned some devastating truth about the world. “Fuck me. That’s so fucked up.”

You nod absently, fiddling with a loose wire. “I mean, I can fix some of these shitty connections you’ve got going on, but without a replacement spark plug, you’re kind of fucked.”

“Shit,” Jeongin mutters. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, glancing at you from under his lashes. “Hey, while we’re here, I just wanna say something.”

You pause, looking up at him. “What?”

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. There’s no smirk this time, no cocky bravado. “For last week. I was a fucking idiot.”

You blink, completely caught off guard. “Apologize? For what?”

“For being an obnoxious ass,” Jeongin says bluntly. “I made you uncomfortable, and that’s not fucking okay. I get that. I’m really fucking sorry.”

“Oh,” you say softly, the unexpected sincerity in his tone making you shift awkwardly. “It’s… it’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine,” he insists, stepping closer. “I was trying to be funny, but I was just a dick. You didn’t deserve that.”

You hesitate, his unexpected earnestness throwing you for a loop. Finally, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “I appreciate the apology.”

Jeongin exhales like he’s been holding his breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I mean it.”

The moment lingers, awkward but oddly genuine, until you turn back to the engine, desperate to shift the focus. “So, uh, like I said, your wiring’s kind of fucked, but I can fix that. You’ll just need to buy a new spark plug. Call an auto shop, tell them your car’s make and model, and they’ll get you sorted.”

Jeongin perks up slightly, his smirk making a cautious return. “If I buy one, would you help me put it in?”

You hesitate, then sigh. “It’s not hard, but sure. I can do that.”

His grin spreads wider, more relaxed now. “Fuck yeah. You’re the best.”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, brushing your hands off on your cargos. “Don’t make it a habit.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jeongin replies smoothly, though the playful glint in his eye suggests otherwise. "Let's go!"

"Now?"

"Yes! Why not?!" Jeongin beams at you and you nod with a resigned shrug.

Jeongin practically skips down the sidewalk beside you, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, humming some off-key tune like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. He keeps sneaking glances at you, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth every time you adjust the strap of your light blue tote bag or glance nervously at the road ahead.

You grip your tote bag tighter, the bag of matching blue fabric almost a security blanket at this point. Your cargos and scuffed Converse feel comfortable enough, but the cropped cream blouse keeps riding up every time you shift, and it’s fucking impossible not to fidget.

Jeongin, of course, doesn’t notice your growing anxiety. Or if he does, he sure as fuck doesn’t show it.

“So,” he pipes up, still bouncing along like a golden retriever. “This Dewie guy, what’s his deal? He, like, your personal mechanic or some shit?”

You glance at him briefly, debating how much to say. “Something like that,” you mutter, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll see.”

Jeongin doesn’t push for more details, instead whistling tunelessly as the auto shop comes into view. The weathered sign above the door creaks in the faint breeze, and the smell of motor oil and grease hits you before you even step inside.

Jeongin slows his pace, squinting up at the building like he’s about to walk onto another planet. “Fuck, this place smells like a mechanic’s fever dream.”

“That’s because it is a mechanic’s fever dream,” you reply softly, shooting him a look. “Don’t insult it.”

His lips twitch in amusement. “Noted.”

The bell above the door jingles as you step inside, the sound instantly grounding you. The shop smells exactly the same as it always does—metal, grease, and faintly of shitty coffee that Dewie insists is “just fine.”

Behind the counter, Dewie is flipping through a massive parts catalogue, his greying hair sticking out in all directions like he’s been too busy to care. His work shirt is streaked with grease and old oil stains, a testament to the hours he spends buried under car hoods.

“Hey, Dewie,” you call out, a small but genuine smile tugging at your lips.

Dewie’s head snaps up at your voice, and his lined face splits into a grin. “Hey, kiddo! What brings you in? Don’t tell me you’re tinkering with another piece of shit.”

You shake your head quickly, already feeling your cheeks flush. “Not me. It’s his car.” You gesture toward Jeongin, who stands just inside the doorway like he doesn’t know where to put himself. “He needs a new spark plug.”

Dewie’s sharp gaze shifts to Jeongin, his arms crossing as he leans on the counter. “What happened? Someone jack it?”

Jeongin stammers, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. That’s what she said, anyway.”

Dewie snorts. “Figures. These fuckers don’t miss a beat these days.” He jerks his chin toward Jeongin. “Make and model?”

“2018 Kia Stinger,” Jeongin replies quickly, trying to sound confident.

Dewie nods once, scrawling something onto a notepad. “Alright, hang tight. I’ll grab one from the back.”

As Dewie disappears through a side door, Jeongin leans down, lowering his voice. “You didn’t mention this guy’s basically your uncle.”

You blink, taken aback. “How’d you figure that?”

Jeongin tilts his head, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. “The way he called you ‘kiddo.’ That’s not just some mechanic shit.”

You hesitate, then shrug, looking down at your sneakers. “He’s not my uncle. But he raised me.”

Jeongin’s smirk fades into something softer, gentler. “Shit. Really?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, shifting awkwardly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Sounds like a big deal to me,” he replies, his voice unusually sincere. “That’s kinda badass.”

You glance at him, unsure what to say. Before you can come up with a response, Dewie reappears, a spark plug in hand. He slaps it onto the counter with a grin. “Here you go. Should do the trick.”

“Thanks,” Jeongin says, reaching into his pocket. “How much?”

“Twenty bucks,” Dewie replies, his sharp eyes flicking back to you for a moment. “How’s school, kiddo? Still kicking ass?”

You nod. “It’s fine. Just busy.”

“Bullshit,” Dewie says with a knowing chuckle. “You’re probably running circles around all those other nerds.”

You mumble something incoherent, fidgeting with the strap of your tote bag. Jeongin, sensing your discomfort, steps forward and slaps a twenty onto the counter. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Dewie hands over the spark plug but doesn’t miss the chance to give Jeongin a critical once-over. “You sure you’re worth her time, kid?”

Your head snaps up. “We’re not- he’s not-”

Jeongin grins, cutting you off smoothly. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m working on it.”

Dewie barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Good luck with that. She’s a tough one.”

“Tell me about it,” Jeongin says with a wink, tossing the spark plug lightly in the air and catching it.

You groan, hiding your face behind your hand. “Can we just go?”

“Take care, kiddo!” Dewie calls as Jeongin holds the door open for you. “Don’t let this one get on your nerves too much!”

Jeongin laughs as you step outside, the cool air hitting your flushed face. “So he raised you, huh?”

You nod, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah.”

“That’s fucking cool,” he says, his tone softer than usual. He tosses the spark plug again, catching it effortlessly. “He seems like a good guy.”

“He is,” you reply quietly, clutching your tote bag tighter. “He’s done a lot for me.”

Jeongin bumps your shoulder lightly, his grin softer now. “You’re lucky to have him.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I am.”

The two of you fall into a companionable silence as you make your way back to the Alpha Phi house, the spark plug bouncing in Jeongin’s hand and a strange warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t quite shake.

Back at the Alpha Phi house, Jeongin practically bounces toward his car, spark plug clutched in one hand like it’s some kind of golden ticket. The afternoon sun glints off the car’s sleek black hood, making it look like it just rolled off a showroom floor. You trail behind him, your light blue tote bag swinging slightly at your side, the strap gripped tightly in your hand as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Jeongin grins as he pops the hood, gesturing grandly like he’s unveiling some masterpiece. “Alright, genius. Work your magic.”

You roll your eyes lightly, setting your tote bag on the ground and stepping closer to inspect the engine. “It’s not magic. It’s just… basic mechanics.”

Jeongin leans against the side of the car, folding his arms as he watches you, his grin widening. “Basic mechanics to you. Black fucking sorcery to me.”

You bite back a small smile, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingers. Focusing on the engine, you twist the spark plug into place with practised precision, your fingers navigating the intricate components like it’s second nature. “Alright, this part’s easy. Shouldn’t take long.”

Jeongin tilts his head, watching you with open admiration. “Take all the time you need. It’s nice watching a genius do her thing.”

Your cheeks burn at the compliment, but you keep your eyes firmly on the engine. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Bullshit,” Jeongin says with a snort. “You could tell me this thing runs on unicorn jizz, and I’d believe you.”

A soft laugh escapes you before you can stop it, and you quickly cover your mouth with one hand. “Unicorn jizz? Really?”

“Hey, you’re the expert,” Jeongin says, his grin turning shameless. “I’m just along for the ride.”

Shaking your head, you finish securing the spark plug and step back to inspect the rest of the engine. Your brows knit together when you notice something out of place. “Your fuel line is disconnected.”

Jeongin straightens up, his grin faltering slightly. “Shit. Is that bad?”

“It’s not great,” you mutter, leaning in to get a closer look. “What the hell happened here?”

Jeongin scratches the back of his neck, his sheepish expression already giving him away. “Okay, so, that might’ve been me.”

You turn to him, crossing your arms as your lips press into a thin line. “Might’ve been you?”

“Alright, fine. It was me,” he admits, holding up his hands in surrender. “It wouldn’t start yesterday, and I didn’t know about the whole missing spark plug thing yet, so I may have fiddled with it.”

“You fiddled with it,” you repeat, incredulous.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging helplessly. “I thought I could figure it out. Turns out I couldn’t.”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat before you can stop it, and you shake your head, a small smile breaking through. “You’re an idiot.”

“Guilty,” Jeongin replies, his grin returning, though it’s softer now. “Can you fix it?”

“I can fix it,” you reply, already crouching to rummage through your tote bag. You pull out a small, well-loved tool kit that Dewie insisted you carry everywhere. “Just promise me you won’t touch anything under the hood ever again.”

Jeongin presses a hand to his chest, his tone mock-serious. “Scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that lingers as you reconnect the fuel line with quick, efficient movements. Jeongin watches closely, leaning in just enough to make you nervous, though his expression isn’t teasing this time. There’s something genuine in the way he watches you, like he’s genuinely impressed.

“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” he says suddenly, his voice soft but firm.

Your hands falter slightly, and you glance up at him, your face already burning. “I- it’s just a fuel line. It’s not-”

“Nope,” he interrupts, holding up a finger. “None of that modest shit. What you’re doing right now? Badass as fuck. Own it.”

You duck your head, letting your hair fall into your face as you mumble, “It’s really not that special.”

Jeongin leans a little closer, his grin softening into something more sincere. “It is to me.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you don’t let yourself dwell on it. Instead, you focus on finishing the repair, your hands moving with quiet confidence. Once you’re done, you step back, brushing your hands off on your cargos.

“There,” you say, closing the hood with a solid click. “That should do it. Try starting it now.”

Jeongin doesn’t hesitate, practically sprinting to the driver’s seat. He slides in, turns the key, and grins as the engine roars to life, smooth and steady. “Holy shit, you actually fixed it.”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Did you think I couldn’t?”

“Never doubted you for a second,” Jeongin replies, hopping out of the car with a triumphant laugh. He walks back over to you, his grin wider than ever. “Seriously, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” you say, bending down to pick up your tote bag. “Just don’t touch your engine again, alright? If something’s wrong, take it to Dewie. Or call me.”

Jeongin perks up at that, his eyebrows raising. “Call you, huh? You offering to be my personal mechanic?”

“Only if you’re desperate,” you mumble, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Don’t make it a habit.”

“Got it,” he says, his tone warm and teasing. “No unnecessary car emergencies. But for real, thank you. You saved my ass.”

You nod quickly, keeping your gaze on the ground. “It’s fine. Really.”

Jeongin watches you for a moment, his usual cocky demeanour replaced by something softer, more thoughtful. “You know,” he says, breaking the silence, “you’re kind of hard to figure out.”

Your brows knit together as you glance up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging. “You’re all quiet and nervous, but then you do shit like this, and it’s like damn. You’re a total badass.”

You fumble for something to say, but Jeongin doesn’t seem to expect a response. Instead, he grins again and jerks his head toward the house.

“C’mon,” he says. “Seungmin’s probably wondering where the fuck you are.”

You nod, trailing after him, your mind spinning with his words and the warmth in his voice. You try to push it away, but it lingers, making it even harder to ignore the way he makes your heart race.

Jeongin bursts into Minho’s room without so much as a knock, throwing the door open so hard it bounces off the wall. Minho jerks upright from where he’s sprawled on his bed, phone clutched in one hand, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“What the fuck, Jeongin?” Minho snaps, glaring at him. “I was busy!”

“You were doomscrolling,” Jeongin shoots back, marching straight to the bed and grabbing Minho’s wrist. “That’s not busy.”

“Excuse me,” Minho retorts, trying and failing to wrench his arm free. “It’s called research. Ever heard of it, dipshit?”

“Research later,” Jeongin grunts, dragging him out the door with surprising strength. “This is important.”

Minho stumbles into the hallway, still protesting. “You are so lucky I don’t punch people younger and weaker than me. What the fuck is this about?”

“You’ll see,” Jeongin says cryptically, tugging him toward Felix’s room. He doesn’t even knock before barging in, nearly tripping over Felix’s chair in the process.

Felix is sitting cross-legged on his bed, headphones around his neck and a laptop balanced on his knees. He looks up, startled. “What the fuck is going on?”

Jeongin lets go of Minho and drops dramatically onto the floor, spreading his arms like a martyr. “Emergency.”

Felix blinks, closing his laptop and setting it aside. "An actual emergency, or a Jeongin emergency?”

“Both,” Jeongin replies, his grin sharp as he leans back on his hands. “So, yesterday? I executed The Plan. Spoke to her. Met her uncle slash guardian. All because I jacked up my car on purpose, which, by the way, she doesn’t fucking know about.”

Minho groans, dropping into Felix’s chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. This is about her? Again?”

Felix raises a brow, intrigued despite himself. “Hold on. Back up. Your dumbass plan actually worked?”

“Fuck yeah, it did,” Jeongin says, his grin turning smug. “She was there, in blue cargos, God, that ass, fixing my car like an angel descended straight from car-heaven.”

“Dickhead,” Minho mutters, glaring at him. “Can you go five fucking seconds without talking about her ass?”

Felix smirks, leaning back against the headboard. “Doubt it. But hey, you talked to her? Like a full conversation?”

“Full fucking conversation,” Jeongin confirms, his chest puffing out. “She didn’t run away. She didn’t tell me to fuck off. Progress, right?”

Felix whistles low, impressed. “Alright, that’s something. What did you talk about?”

“She mostly talked about the car,” Jeongin admits. “But I told her she was amazing. And get this, she told me to call her if I needed help again.”

Minho leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “She actually said that? Or did you hallucinate it in one of your horny delusions?”

“She fucking said it,” Jeongin says, glaring back at him. “I’m not delusional. And now I need to figure out how to make her fall in love with me.”

Felix snorts, covering his face with one hand. “You’ve had one normal interaction and now you’re planning a wedding?”

“Felix,” Jeongin says seriously, sitting up. “This is destiny. Don’t laugh.”

Minho groans, slouching in his chair. “Destiny my ass. You’re obsessed with a girl who probably doesn’t even know how to take a compliment without spontaneously combusting.”

“Exactly!” Jeongin says, pointing at him. “She’s different. She’s shy, soft-spoken, and she’s so fucking smart. I’m not gonna screw this up.”

Felix exhales, his tone shifting to something more patient. “Alright, fine. Let’s workshop this. It's doable.”

Jeongin claps his hands together, grinning. “This is why you’re my favourite.”

“Jesus,” Minho mutters. “You’re lucky Felix has more patience than me.”

Felix sits up straighter, clasping his hands like he’s about to deliver a lecture. “First rule: You cannot go full Jeongin on her.”

Jeongin frowns. “Full Jeongin?”

“Yeah, like your usual loud, cocky bullshit,” Minho chimes in. “She’s not gonna respond to you strutting around like a frat-boy peacock.”

Felix nods. “She’s shy, right? You need to be approachable. Soft. Make her feel comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” Jeongin repeats, his expression serious. “Okay. How?”

“Patience,” Felix says, ticking off his fingers. “Be genuine. Talk to her, but don’t push. Ask about what she’s into. Show her you’re actually interested in her, not just her ass.”

Jeongin sighs dramatically. “Why does everyone keep attacking me over this?”

“Because you talk about her ass constantly,” Minho deadpans. “Compliment her brain, her personality, her work ethic, anything but her fucking cargo pants.”

“I did!” Jeongin protests. “I told her she was amazing while she was fixing my car.”

“Good,” Felix says with a small smile. “Do more of that. Make her feel seen.”

Jeongin fidgets, his confidence faltering slightly. “What if I mess it up? Say the wrong thing?”

“You will,” Minho says flatly, earning a glare from Jeongin. “But if you’re sincere, she’ll forgive you. Probably.”

Felix sighs, shooting Minho a look. “Ignore him. It’s okay to mess up as long as you’re making an effort. She’ll notice.”

Jeongin nods slowly, absorbing the advice. “What about hanging out? Like, casually?”

Felix brightens. “Yes! Somewhere low-pressure. Somewhere she feels comfortable.”

“A study date,” Jeongin says, his eyes lighting up. “That’s fucking genius.”

Felix shakes his head. “Not a date. Not yet. Just hang out. Be chill.”

Jeongin leans back, a determined grin spreading across his face. “Okay. Be patient. Be genuine. Compliment her brain. Hang out somewhere low-pressure. Got it.”

Minho chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You’re actually taking this seriously, huh?”

“Of course I am,” Jeongin says earnestly. “She’s not like anyone I’ve met before.”

Felix smiles softly. “Then don’t fuck it up, Innie.”

Jeongin grins, his usual cockiness tinged with real hope. “I won’t.”

The college mechanics' garage hums with the faint buzz of overhead fluorescent lights, their sterile glow casting long shadows on the polished concrete floor. The air is thick with the smell of motor oil, grease, and faint traces of burnt rubber. A comforting scent that’s come to feel like home.

You’re crouched over an engine mounted on a heavy metal workbench, black cargos streaked with grime and your cropped black blouse tugging higher every time you reach forward. A red bandana is knotted tightly around your head, though it does little to keep stray hairs from escaping, forcing you to constantly push them back with oil-stained fingers.

The engine looms in front of you, its tangled maze of components taunting you like some sadistic puzzle. Something’s wrong. Something you should be able to figure out, and yet the solution keeps fucking eluding you.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, glaring at the carburettor like it personally offended you. “What the fuck is your problem?”

The sharp squeak of sneakers on the concrete pulls your attention for half a second, but you don’t need to look up to know who it is. Jeongin. Of course. His footsteps are unhurried, confident, and that faint whiff of expensive cologne follows him like a calling card.

“Hey,” Jeongin calls out, his voice smooth but softer than usual, like he’s testing the waters. “Seungmin said you’d be here, working yourself to death over something you can’t let go.”

You glance at him briefly before going back to your work, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your pocket. “Something in this stupid engine doesn’t work,” you mumble, the frustration clear in your tone. “And I can’t figure it out.”

Jeongin steps closer, his sneakers scuffing slightly against the floor. He stops a few feet away, tilting his head as he studies the scene in front of him: you, bent over the workbench, fingers deftly navigating the guts of the engine, black cargos clinging to your legs, streaks of oil smudged on your skin. He has to force himself to look away before his thoughts go to places he’ll regret voicing.

“Okay,” Jeongin says, clearing his throat and stepping closer. “Use me.”

You straighten up, turning to him with a confused look. “What?”

“Use me,” he repeats, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Explain the engine to me, like I’m five. Sometimes talking it out helps people figure shit out, right?”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. He steps forward, holding out a coffee cup. “Also, I brought you this. Vanilla chai latte. Took a guess, it seemed like your kind of thing.”

Your fingers hesitate before reaching for the cup, the warmth seeping through the cardboard sleeve and into your cold, grease-smeared hands. “Thanks,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the garage. The tension in your shoulders eases slightly as you take a sip, the sweet flavour grounding you.

Jeongin grins, leaning his hip against the workbench. “Alright. Walk me through it.”

You sigh, gesturing for him to come closer. “Fine. But you’ll need to actually look at the engine.”

Jeongin steps up beside you, close enough that you catch the faint warmth radiating from him. His cologne mingles with the metallic tang of the garage, creating an oddly intoxicating mix. He leans in as you start pointing to different components, his eyes following the movements of your hands.

“This is the carburettor,” you explain. “It mixes air and fuel for combustion. If it’s clogged or not working right, the engine’s fucked.”

Jeongin nods seriously, though the smirk playing on his lips betrays him. “Air, fuel, kaboom. Got it.”

You huff out a soft laugh despite yourself, glancing at him. “Basically.”

Encouraged by your reaction, Jeongin leans a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “And what’s this thing?” he asks, pointing vaguely at a random cluster of wires.

“That’s the distributor,” you say, nudging his hand away so you can show him properly. “It sends voltage to the spark plugs. If something’s wrong here, the engine misfires.”

Jeongin whistles low, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. “You weren’t kidding when you said this shit’s complicated.”

You shrug, a small, self-conscious smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not that bad once you know what you’re doing.”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongin teases, tilting his head to get a better look. “Says the fucking genius.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to the engine. “I’m not a genius. It’s just practice.”

“Still impressive,” Jeongin says softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he forces himself to focus. “Alright, what else?”

As you continue explaining, something starts to click in your mind. You step back slightly, your brows furrowing. “Wait a second-”

“What?” Jeongin asks, watching your face light up with realization.

You lean in, carefully pulling at a small, almost hidden wire near the distributor. “This wire isn’t connected properly. It’s part of the ignition system. Without it, the spark plugs won’t fire right.”

Jeongin frowns, squinting at the tiny wire. “That tiny thing? Seriously? That’s the whole problem?”

“It’s not obvious,” you admit, reaching for a screwdriver from your kit. “That’s probably why I missed it the first ten fucking times.”

Jeongin watches as you secure the wire, his tone filled with awe. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

You pause for half a second, your cheeks flushing, but you quickly shake it off and finish tightening the connection. “It’s just an engine,” you mumble, ducking your head.

“It’s not just an engine,” Jeongin insists, his voice firm but warm. “You just solved a fucking mystery like Sherlock Holmes. That’s badass.”

You glance at him briefly, unsure how to respond, and instead focus on brushing your hands off on a rag. “Alright,” you say, stepping back. “That should do it.”

“You’re sure?” Jeongin asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Test it,” you reply, crossing your arms as you nod toward the ignition system.

Jeongin turns to the panel, flipping the switch. The engine rumbles to life, smooth and steady. His eyes widen, and a grin splits across his face as he lets out an excited laugh. “Holy shit, you actually fixed it!”

You nod, your lips twitching into a small smile. “Told you it wasn’t that hard.”

Jeongin shakes his head, his grin full of admiration. “You’re a fucking genius. I don’t care what you say.”

You shrug, the warmth in your chest spreading despite your best efforts to downplay it. “It’s just practice.”

Jeongin watches as you gather your tools, his grin softening. “Thanks for letting me help, even if all I did was stand here and look pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You weren’t that bad.”

Jeongin straightens up, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. “So coffee again? Maybe you can teach me more.”

You glance at him, his tone so sincere it catches you off guard. “Maybe,” you murmur, your cheeks warming as you adjust the strap of your tote bag.

Jeongin grins, his confidence returning full force. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jeongin bursts into the kitchen like a fucking tornado, the door slamming against the wall as his energy ricochets off every surface. Felix is at the stove, carefully arranging what looks like a chaotic cross between a gourmet dish and a culinary science experiment.

Minho sits on a stool nearby, fork poised mid-air as he waits impatiently to dig in. Both of them look up as Jeongin skips in, his grin so wide it practically splits his face in half.

“I fucking did it again!” Jeongin announces, throwing his hands up like he’s just won the lottery.

Felix raises an eyebrow, setting the pan down with a metallic clatter. “Did what again?”

“Worked my charm,” Jeongin says smugly, puffing out his chest like a victorious rooster. “I went to the college workshop, helped her figure out why an engine wasn’t working. You should’ve seen her. She was so fucking focused, explaining all the parts to me like an absolute badass.”

Minho snorts, shoving a forkful of Felix’s food into his mouth. “You know fuck-all about cars.”

“And that’s the beauty of it,” Jeongin says, pointing dramatically at Minho like he’s cracked some great universal truth. “I know jack shit, but I offered moral support. And guess what? It fucking worked.”

Felix sighs, shaking his head as he sets the plate down in front of Minho. “Alright, Romeo, what’s the problem this time?”

Jeongin hops onto the counter, his legs swinging like an overgrown child. “Felix, here’s the thing, I think we’re friends now. Or, like, something close to friends. But!” He leans forward, his voice dropping like he’s about to deliver the plot twist of a lifetime. “I do not want to get friendzoned.”

Felix opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Jisung and Hyunjin stroll into the kitchen. Jisung is mid-rant, his arms waving wildly as Hyunjin trails behind him with an amused smirk plastered on his face.

“…and that’s why vending machines are the fucking devil,” Jisung finishes with a flourish as they step inside.

Hyunjin chuckles. “You’re just mad it ate your dollar.”

“Not the point!” Jisung retorts, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a bite. “What’s going on in here?”

“Innie,” Minho says around a mouthful of food, pointing his fork at Jeongin, “is trying to woo a mechanics girl, but the problem is, she’s shy.”

Jeongin groans, dragging both hands down his face. “Why do you make me sound like a complete fucking moron?”

“Because you are,” Minho deadpans, smirking as he shovels more food into his mouth.

Jeongin waves him off, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyway, listen to my great romance that would make Shakespeare weep”

He launches into a play-by-play of his interactions with you, pacing back and forth like he’s narrating some great epic. He describes the spark plug incident in painstaking detail, recounts the engine troubleshooting with theatrical flair, and even mentions the coffee he brought you- “because I’m thoughtful as fuck.”

Hyunjin leans against the counter, arms crossed as he listens with growing amusement. Jisung nods along, occasionally pausing to take another bite of his apple.

“So, basically,” Jeongin concludes, spinning on his heel to face them, “I’m making progress. But I don’t want to get stuck in the friend zone. I need strategies. Plans. Help me.”

Felix smirks, leaning back against the stove. “You’re really in deep, huh?”

“Like Mariana Trench deep,” Jeongin admits, running a hand through his hair, his confidence faltering for a split second. “She’s cool. And smart. And sweet. And she smells like parma violet candy.”

Jisung stops mid-bite, his eyebrows shooting up. “Parma violet? That’s a weirdly specific observation.”

“Not the fucking point!” Jeongin snaps, glaring at him.

Minho finally sets his fork down, resting his chin on his hand as he gives Jeongin his full attention. “Alright, let’s think this through. You’ve already somehow impressed her, don’t ask me how, so what’s next? You need something that keeps you close to her but shows you’re serious. No fuckboy antics.”

Jisung suddenly perks up, his eyes lighting up like a kid with a genius idea. “Oh, I’ve got it!” He tosses his half-eaten apple onto the counter and turns to Jeongin, gesturing wildly. “There’s this old car place on the edge of town. It’s basically a junkyard, but they sell old cars for dirt cheap because they’re considered scrap. What if you take her there, let her pick one out, and the two of you restore it together? Like a team project. Ultimate bonding shit.”

The room falls silent as everyone processes Jisung’s suggestion. Then Jeongin’s face lights up like he’s just been handed the fucking Holy Grail.

“Sungie,” Jeongin says, striding forward and grabbing Jisung by the shoulders, “I could kiss you right now.”

Jisung grins, puckering his lips dramatically. “Go ahead. I’m ready for it.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes but indulges him by pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand, which he then slaps over Jisung’s mouth. “There. That’s all you’re getting.”

Jisung pulls back with an exaggerated pout. “You’re no fun.”

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “You two are fucking idiots.”

“But the idea’s solid,” Felix says, nodding thoughtfully. “It’s personal, low-pressure, and shows that you’re genuinely interested in her hobbies.”

“And,” Minho adds, his smirk widening, “it keeps you around her without making her feel like you’re trying too hard. Smart move.”

Jeongin grins, practically vibrating with excitement as he pulls out his phone. “This is fucking perfect. I’ll text her right now, see if she’s down.”

Minho points at him, his tone sharp. “Don’t fuck it up, Innie.”

“I won’t,” Jeongin insists, already typing furiously on his phone. “Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

Jisung smirks, leaning against the counter. “I know.”

Felix rolls his eyes, returning to the stove. “Alright, go plan your little restoration project. Let us know if it works or if it crashes and burns.”

Jeongin looks up briefly, his grin wide and confident. “It’s gonna be amazing. Just watch.”

Hyunjin watches him leave, shaking his head with a chuckle. “He’s gonna make such a fool of himself.”

“Probably,” Minho agrees, stealing another bite of Felix’s food. “But it’ll be entertaining as fuck.”

Jisung laughs, already planning how to take credit for the whole idea if it works. “He’ll owe me for life.”

The familiar bell above the door jingles as Jeongin steps into Dewie’s auto shop, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. The place smells like grease, burnt oil, and metal. The kind of scent that clings to your clothes and hair, the kind of scent that feels oddly welcoming.

Somewhere in the back, the faint clank of a ratchet echoes, blending with the hum of a nearby air compressor. Dewie glances up from the counter, his weathered face splitting into a grin.

“Back again, huh?” Dewie says, setting down the car part he’s been inspecting. His sharp eyes flick toward the garage door behind him. “Kiddo’s in the back, like always. Thought you were just her spark plug guy. What’s the deal, kid?”

Jeongin grins, not missing a beat. “Might’ve upgraded to something more. Thanks, Dewie.”

He makes his way through the cluttered aisles of parts and tools, sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished concrete. When he reaches the back, he pauses for a moment, leaning against the doorframe as he takes in the sight of you.

You’re perched on a stool near a disassembled carburettor, hands streaked with grease as you carefully clean the delicate components. Your cropped white lace camisole looks almost absurdly out of place in the gritty garage, its delicate fabric contrasting sharply with the grime and chaos surrounding you.

Blue mom jeans sit high on your waist, snug but not too tight, cuffed at the ankles over scuffed Converse. A blue bandana ties your hair back, but a few loose strands cling to your cheeks, and Jeongin’s throat tightens at how effortlessly beautiful you look.

“Hey,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual but failing to hide the grin tugging at his lips.

You glance up, startled for half a second before relaxing when you realize it’s him. “Oh. Hi.”

“Busy?” Jeongin asks, nodding toward the carburetor as he takes a few steps closer.

“A little,” you admit, setting the part down and wiping your hands on an already-dirty rag. “Why?”

He pulls a slightly crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it, holding it out to you. “Found this place. Kind of a junkyard, but they sell old, beat-to-shit cars for almost nothing. Thought you might want to check it out.”

You take the paper, your brow furrowing as you scan the address and the details of the auction. Your fingers brush his for the briefest moment, and Jeongin’s heartbeat skips. Despite the grease smudges, your hands are soft, delicate in a way that doesn’t quite match the work he’s seen them do.

“What do you say?” he asks, his voice casual, though his eyes flicker with an unmistakable nervous energy.

Before you can answer, Dewie’s voice booms from the front of the shop. “She says yes! Off you go, kiddo! Take the clueless frat boy with you.”

“Dewie!” you exclaim. “I didn’t say anything yet!”

“No arguments,” Dewie calls back, his tone dripping with mischief. “You’ve been buried in this shop all day. Go out. Have some fun.”

Jeongin laughs, the sound warm and unbothered. “See? Even your uncle’s on my side.”

“He’s not my uncle,” you mutter, turning back around and handing the paper back to him. “Fine. But if this place sucks, you’re buying me dinner.”

“Deal,” Jeongin says instantly, his grin widening as he leads the way out. Dewie waves at the two of you, his smirk lingering as he watches Jeongin hold the door open for you like it’s second nature.

Jeongin’s car smells faintly of his cologne, a rich, woodsy scent that somehow manages not to clash with the faint lingering smell of fast food fries. The radio hums softly in the background, some indie rock song playing low enough to barely register.

You sit in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the strap of your bag, occasionally glancing out the window. Jeongin sneaks a look at you every few moments, but he doesn’t say much, letting the quiet settle comfortably between you.

When he pulls into the junkyard’s lot, your eyes widen slightly at the sheer scale of it. Rusted cars stretch out in long, chaotic rows, each one a monument to decades of neglect. The air smells of old rubber, engine oil, and faintly of wet dirt.

Some of the cars look like they’ve been there for years. Classic Mustangs with shattered windshields, a Cadillac with its hood missing, and even an ancient VW van so rusted it’s practically orange.

Jeongin parks the car, cutting the engine. “So?” he asks, stepping out and leaning casually against his door. “What do you think?”

You follow him out slowly, your gaze sweeping across the endless sea of potential. For a moment, he worries it might be overwhelming, but then he catches it. A flicker of excitement in your eyes. Your lips part slightly as you take it all in, and Jeongin can’t stop himself from smiling.

“This is…” you start, your voice soft, almost reverent. “This is fucking amazing.”

“Really?” Jeongin asks, his relief palpable. “I was half-convinced this was a dumb idea.”

You shake your head, your excitement bubbling over as you walk toward one of the cars. A battered blue Chevrolet Impala with peeling paint and a spiderweb of cracks in its windshield. “It’s not dumb at all. This place is incredible.”

He follows you as you weave between the rows of cars, watching the way your fingers lightly brush against the rusted metal. You pause at a faded red pickup truck, tilting your head as you examine its dented frame. Jeongin notices the way your eyes light up with every new discovery, and it makes his chest feel tight.

“See anything you like?” he asks, his tone teasing but genuine.

You glance at him over your shoulder, a small, soft smile tugging at your lips. “They’re all beautiful in their own way.”

Jeongin leans against the nearest car, crossing his arms as he watches you. “Okay, genius. If you could pick one, which would it be?”

You hesitate, scanning the lot again before pointing toward a sleek but battered 1967 Ford Mustang. Its red paint is faded almost to pink, one of its tyres sits flat, and the chrome bumper is hanging on by sheer force of will. But even in its sorry state, there’s something undeniably regal about it.

“That one,” you say with quiet certainty.

Jeongin whistles low, genuinely impressed. “Damn. A Mustang? Bold choice. So, you wanna take it?”

Your head jerks toward him, startled. “What? No. I couldn’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” Jeongin counters, grinning. “It’s here, it’s cheap, and if anyone can bring it back to life, it’s you.”

You bite your lip, glancing back at the car. “It’s a lot of work.”

Jeongin shrugs. “So what? I’ll help.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “You don’t know shit about cars.”

“True,” Jeongin admits, laughing. “But I can hold tools. And I’m excellent at standing around and looking hot.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, and Jeongin’s grin widens at the sound. “Fine,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But you’re not allowed to slack off.”

“Deal,” Jeongin says, sticking out his hand. You hesitate, then shake it, your grease-smudged fingers warm and soft against his.

He looks at the Mustang, his grin turning almost boyish. “Alright. Let’s make this beauty yours.”

The next month is a whirlwind of grease, sweat, and late nights spent hunched over the Mustang, and every single day, Jeongin shows up at Dewie’s auto shop with his sleeves rolled up and that goddamn grin plastered on his face.

The rhythm becomes natural. Him peppering you with endless questions about parts, tools, and processes while fumbling with wrenches like a clueless idiot and you, patiently showing him how to work through each repair, trying not to laugh at his complete lack of mechanical instincts. Jeongin is hopeless when it comes to precision, but his enthusiasm is undeniable.

By the time the sun sets, you’re both exhausted, covered in streaks of oil and grime, but there’s always a shared sense of accomplishment. And each night, when Jeongin stumbles back to the Alpha Phi house, he bursts into the kitchen or living room, rambling to his friends about every detail like a kid coming back from his first field trip.

The first week, Jeongin barrels into the kitchen, the faint smell of motor oil clinging to his hoodie. Felix is at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smells halfway decent, while Minho scrolls through his phone at the counter. From the living room, Jisung and Hyunjin’s voices carry through as they bicker over which shitty rom-com to stream.

“It’s happening!” Jeongin yells, throwing his bag onto a chair. “We’re fucking doing it!”

Minho doesn’t even look up. “Doing what, exactly?”

“Restoring the Mustang!” Jeongin says, grinning like an idiot. “We started on the engine today. You should’ve seen her. She’s so fucking smart. She was explaining all this technical shit, and I was just standing there like, ‘what the fuck?’”

“Not surprised,” Felix mutters, barely glancing away from the stove. “You’re an idiot.”

“Fuck off. Anyway, I held the flashlight like a goddamn pro. Didn’t drop it once. She even smiled at me.”

Jisung wanders into the kitchen. “You’re really out here bragging about holding a flashlight, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jeongin says, chucking a dish towel at him. “It’s progress.”

By the second week, Jeongin is full of even more stories. He bursts into Felix’s room one night, interrupting a casual gaming session. Felix is sprawled on the bed next to Minho, controller in hand, while Hyunjin sits on the floor beside Jisung, the four of them locked in a heated match of Mario Kart.

“Okay, okay, listen!” Jeongin says, plopping down onto the floor next to Hyunjin, his hair a wild mess and a streak of grease smudged across his cheek.

“Pause the game,” Minho mutters dryly, already guessing what’s coming.

“We replaced the carburettor today,” Jeongin says, breathless. “And get this, she let me tighten some bolts. Didn’t even double-check my work. Trust, you guys. That’s trust.”

“Or recklessness,” Minho deadpans, barely looking away from the screen.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongin says, though he’s grinning. “She even made me tea while we waited for a part to soak. It was kind of nice.”

Jisung snorts, not looking away from his kart. “Tea. How fucking romantic.”

“You’re just jealous,” Jeongin retorts, leaning back on his hands. “Bet no one’s ever made you tea while you fixed a carburettor.”

Hyunjin smirks, pausing the game and stretching his arms overhead. “You’re kind of adorable when you’re in simp mode.”

“I’m not fucking simping,” Jeongin snaps, his ears tinged red. “I’m just invested.”

“Sure,” Felix says, glancing up long enough to exchange a knowing look with Minho. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

At the end of week three, Jeongin stomps into the living room one evening, his hoodie streaked with grease and his expression sour. Jisung and Hyunjin are sprawled on the couch, while Minho sits nearby, his laptop open on his knees.

“Rough day, Romeo?” Minho asks, not even looking up.

“Fucking timing belt,” Jeongin mutters, throwing himself onto the couch between Jisung and Hyunjin. “We thought we had it, but the replacement part didn’t fit. She was so fucking pissed.”

Jisung perks up, his curiosity piqued. “Pissed at you?”

“No, dumbass. At the part,” Jeongin replies, throwing an arm over his face. “But honestly? It was kind of amazing. She gets all quiet and focused, and you can literally see her brain working overtime. It’s fucking unreal.”

Hyunjin nudges him with his elbow. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongin mumbles, though there’s no real heat behind it.

By the final week, the Mustang is nearly complete. You and Jeongin spend an entire day putting the finishing touches on it, working late into the evening. When the engine finally roars to life, the sound is deafening and so is Jeongin’s yell of triumph.

“Holy fuck!” he shouts, jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. “We fucking did it!”

You grin, brushing your greasy hands off on your jeans. “Told you it’d work.”

Later that night, Jeongin practically kicks open the front door of the Alpha Phi house, his face flushed with excitement. The guys are all gathered in the living room, and they look up in surprise as he barrels in.

“It fucking works!” Jeongin yells, throwing his hands in the air. “The Mustang is alive!”

“No way,” Jisung says, sitting up straight. “You actually pulled it off?”

“We pulled it off,” Jeongin corrects, flopping onto the couch with a satisfied grin. “She did most of the work, obviously, but I was there. I tightened bolts. I replaced hoses. I got covered in grease. It was fucking awesome.”

Felix laughs from the armchair. “So, what now?”

Jeongin pauses, his excitement fading into something softer. “I don’t know. When the car started, she was so happy. Like, I’ve never seen her light up like that. It was kind of perfect.”

“Sounds like you’re ready for the next step,” Hyunjin says, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s the next step?” Jeongin asks, his voice quieter now.

“Ask her out, dumbass,” Minho says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been dancing around it for weeks.”

Jeongin hesitates, his grin faltering slightly. “What if she says no?”

“She won’t,” Felix says firmly. “She wouldn’t have spent all that time with you if she didn’t like you.”

Jisung claps Jeongin on the shoulder. “You’ve got this, lover boy.”

Jeongin exhales, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

The next afternoon, Jeongin stands in front of the small flower shop on the corner of campus, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. The display window is bright and vibrant, blooms of every colour arranged in chaotic harmony. Despite the cheerful exterior, his nerves are wound tight as a fucking drum. He stares at the flowers like they might offer advice, but they’re as silent and smug as always.

“Okay, Jeongin, you can do this,” he mutters to himself, earning a strange look from a passing student. He ignores it, takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open. The bell above the door jingles, its soft chime making his nerves spike further.

The shop is cosy, filled with the earthy scent of fresh flowers, damp soil, and just a hint of something sweet. Behind the counter stands a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. She looks up from trimming stems as Jeongin steps inside.

“Hi there,” she greets, her voice bright and chipper. “Looking for anything in particular?”

Jeongin scratches the back of his neck, his usual cocky demeanour faltering under the weight of this new territory. “Uh, yeah. I need flowers for someone. Like, congratulations flowers but also romance flowers? Does that make any sense?”

The woman’s eyebrow quirks up, her smile tilting into something amused. “That makes perfect sense. Tell me a little about the person.”

“She’s-” Jeongin pauses, his voice softening as your image pops into his mind. “She’s amazing. She’s smart and shy, but when she’s working on something, she just lights up, you know? She’s been busting her ass on this project with me, and I want to celebrate her. But, uh, I also want her to know I like her.”

The woman chuckles, nodding as she steps out from behind the counter. “Sounds like someone special. Let’s see-” She pulls blooms from different buckets, her movements precise. “Pink roses, classic for admiration and love. And daisies for celebration. Thoughtful but not too overbearing. How does that sound?”

Jeongin grins, his confidence returning a little. “Sounds perfect. You’re a lifesaver.”

When Jeongin shows up at Dewie’s auto shop later that day, the bouquet feels fragile in his hands, like it might crumble under the weight of his nerves. He rehearses what he wants to say under his breath as he walks through the door, already sweating through his hoodie.

Dewie is at the counter, sipping what looks like a truly heinous cup of black coffee. He raises an eyebrow as Jeongin strides in, bouquet clutched like a goddamn lifeline.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Clueless Frat Boy,” Dewie says, smirking. “What’s with the flowers? You gonna apologize for breaking her wrench or something?”

Jeongin glares but doesn’t stop moving toward the back of the shop. “None of your business, old man.”

Dewie laughs, raising his coffee mug in mock salute. “Good luck, Romeo.”

When Jeongin steps into the garage, he finds you next to the Mustang, your focus entirely on sanding down the car’s exterior. You’re in black cargos again, snug and streaked with grime, paired with a fitted white tank top that clings to your frame.

Your trusty blue bandana keeps most of your hair out of your face, but a few strands escape, clinging to your cheeks from the sweat of the day. You don’t notice him at first, too engrossed in the repetitive motion of sanding, and Jeongin takes a moment to steady himself.

“Hey,” he says finally, his voice loud enough to carry over the faint whir of machines in the distance.

You glance up, startled, but your expression softens when you see him. “Oh. Hi.”

Jeongin steps closer, shifting awkwardly. “Busy?”

You set the sandpaper down, wiping your hands on a rag. “Kind of. Why?”

“These,” Jeongin says, holding up the bouquet like it’s a peace offering. “They’re for you. To celebrate the car. And, uh, just because.”

Your eyes widen, your movements faltering as you take the flowers gingerly. Your fingers brush his, and Jeongin swears his heart skips a beat. “They’re beautiful,” you whisper, glancing down at the delicate arrangement. “Thank you.”

Jeongin scratches the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “You deserve it. You worked so fucking hard on this car.”

You look at him, a small smile creeping onto your face. “You helped.”

“Barely,” Jeongin laughs, shaking his head. “I mostly held tools and asked dumb questions. But thanks for pretending I contributed.”

You laugh softly, the sound making Jeongin’s chest swell with pride. Setting the bouquet carefully aside, you nod toward the car. “Ready to paint this thing?”

“Hell yeah,” Jeongin says, rolling up his sleeves like he’s about to walk into battle. “Let’s make this car look as badass as you.”

You quickly grab a can of spray paint, shoving it into his hands. “Just follow my lead,” you mumble, but the faint smile on your lips gives you away.

The next few hours pass in a blur of laughter, paint fumes, and meticulous work. You coach Jeongin through the process, showing him how to hold the can and keep the spray even.

At first, he’s all over the place, but he improves with your patient guidance. By the time the Mustang is coated in a sleek, gleaming red, your arms ache, and the garage smells like a paint factory exploded, but the sight of the car makes it all worth it.

Jeongin steps back, admiring the Mustang with wide eyes. “Holy shit. It looks fucking incredible.”

“It does,” you agree, a note of pride in your voice as you run a hand along the freshly painted hood.

Jeongin glances at you, his pulse quickening. He rubs his palms against his jeans, gathering his courage. “Hey?”

You turn to him, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah?”

“So,” He shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets, his confidence wavering. “You’ve spent all this time teaching me about cars and making me look less like a total dumbass. And I kind of want to thank you properly.”

You blink, confusion flickering across your face. “You already brought me flowers.”

“No, I mean,” Jeongin takes a deep breath, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Would you want to go out with me? Like, on a date?”

Your eyes widen, your breath catching for a moment. The garage feels deafeningly quiet, and Jeongin’s nerves spiral with each passing second of silence.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” he adds quickly, his voice softer. “I just thought-”

“I’d like that,” you interrupt as you smile shyly. “A date, I mean.”

Jeongin’s face lights up, his grin breaking into full force. “Really?”

You nod, fiddling with the edge of your tank top. “Yeah. I think it’d be nice.”

Jeongin pumps his fist in the air like a kid who just won his first carnival game. “Alright, it’s a date. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow sounds good,” you say, your voice still quiet but warm.

As the two of you clean up the shop, Jeongin can’t stop grinning, his excitement radiating off him. When he leaves that night, he’s already planning every detail of the perfect first date, determined to make it just as memorable as the month you spent building something extraordinary together.

Jeongin practically kicks the front door open as he bursts into the Alpha Phi house, his energy crashing through the quiet like a fucking tidal wave. His grin stretches so wide it feels like it might tear his face in half, and the squeak of his sneakers on the hardwood floors only adds to the chaos of his arrival. He darts straight into the living room, barely noticing the half-empty beer bottles and the faint smell of stale popcorn.

The scene is the usual mess: Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin are sprawled across the couch with beers in hand, mid-debate over something that sounds suspiciously stupid. Meanwhile, Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix are crowded around the coffee table, shouting over the remote as a dumb action movie plays on the TV, paused mid-explosion.

Chan’s the first to look up, raising an eyebrow at Jeongin’s theatrical entrance. “What the fuck’s got you so excited?”

Before Jeongin can say a word, Jisung perks up from where he’s perched on the arm of the couch, grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat. “Oh, you three poor, oblivious bastards. You’ve missed some big fucking moves lately. And by big, I mean colossal.”

Changbin snorts, tilting his beer can. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Jisung gestures dramatically toward Jeongin. “Let the man speak.”

All eyes turn to Jeongin, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. He doesn’t waste a second. “I’m going on a date!”

The room erupts like a bomb went off.

“HOLY SHIT!” Jisung yells, leaping off the couch and pumping his fists in the air like a lunatic. “FINALLY!"

Felix and Hyunjin immediately bolt upright, whooping as they grab Jeongin in a bone-crushing group hug. Minho’s laughing so hard he nearly falls off the arm of the chair he’s perched on, while Chan just shakes his head, bewildered by the chaos unfolding before him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, calm down,” Seungmin mutters, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in his tone. “A date? With who?”

Felix pulls away from the hug just enough to shove Jeongin back toward the middle of the room. “Tell them! Tell them everything!”

Jeongin’s practically glowing as he recounts it, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I brought her flowers, pink roses and daisies, ‘cause that’s apparently a thing, and we painted the Mustang today, and when we were done, I just fucking asked. Like, straight up. And she said yes.”

Minho claps him on the back, smirking. “See? The long game works. I told you.”

“Don’t inflate your own ego,” Jeongin says, laughing. “But yeah, it fucking worked.”

From the couch, Changbin raises a hand, clearly confused. “Wait, hold the fuck up. A date with who?”

“Y/N,” Jisung blurts, his tone smug as fuck. He shoots Jeongin finger guns like this is somehow his victory. “You know, Seungmin’s shy mechanic friend?”

Seungmin bolts upright, his beer almost toppling over. “Y/N?! You’re going on a date with Y/N?!”

Jeongin grins like a proud idiot. “Yup. She even smiled at me when I asked. Like, a real smile.”

Seungmin looks like he’s been hit by a truck. “You mean my Y/N? The one who overthinks everything and literally panics trying to order coffee?”

“Same one,” Jeongin says, still grinning. “And I met Dewie, too. He’s intense, but he’s cool.”

Seungmin groans, running a hand through his hair like he’s about to have an aneurysm. “Dewie? You met Dewie? That man will kneecap you if you so much as make her frown. I’m not exaggerating.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on fucking it up,” Jeongin says, shrugging. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

“Dewie aside,” Minho interjects, smirking, “this is cause for celebration. Do you even know how much fucking effort went into this? We’ve been working like the wheel dudes at the F1.”

“You mean the pit crew?” Seungmin deadpans, his tone flat.

“Yeah, that,” Minho snaps, rolling his eyes. “Point is, we made this happen.”

“You’ve been planning this for months?” Seungmin demands, glaring at Jeongin. “Without telling me?”

Jeongin shrugs, the picture of casual. “You’d have been mad.”

“I’m mad now!” Seungmin shouts, though there’s no real heat in his voice. “That’s my best fucking friend. If you hurt her-”

“I know the drill. Be nice. Don’t fuck it up,” Jeongin interrupts, grinning.

“You’d better,” Seungmin mutters, leaning back into the couch. “God help you if you don’t.”

Changbin leans forward, smirking. “So, what’s the plan for this date, Romeo? First dates set the tone, you know. You fuck this up, and it’s over.”

Jeongin’s grin softens, but his excitement doesn’t waver. “I’ve got ideas. I want to keep it low-pressure, something she’ll be comfortable with.”

Hyunjin whistles low. “Look at you. Planning shit out. I’m impressed.”

Felix claps Jeongin on the shoulder, grinning. “You’re gonna nail it. She wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t like you.”

“Exactly,” Jisung adds, slapping Jeongin’s back so hard he nearly stumbles. “This is your moment. Don’t fuck it up.”

Jeongin raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I hear you. No pressure or anything.”

The room erupts in laughter and cheers again, and Jeongin feels his chest swell with pride. He knows the guys are rooting for him, and despite their teasing, their confidence in him makes him feel like he can actually pull this off.

As he settles into the chaos of the Alpha Phi living room, the thought of seeing you again tomorrow fills him with a mix of nerves and excitement. This date isn’t just a step forward. It’s the beginning of something he’s been quietly hoping for since the day you first knocked on the frat house door.

The classic car event is alive with the thrum of engines, the chatter of enthusiasts, and the faint scent of fuel lingering in the warm afternoon air. Rows of pristine vintage cars stretch out across the lot like an automotive museum brought to life.

Chrome gleams under the sun, polished to perfection, while proud owners lounge nearby, ready to swap stories or flex their hard work to anyone who stops to look.

Jeongin stands just outside the entrance, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. He’s dressed in black jeans and a crisp white button-up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows in a way that makes him look effortlessly put together. But the way he keeps fidgeting with his cuffs gives him away, his nerves are in overdrive. He tugs at the hem of his shirt for what feels like the hundredth time, scanning the crowd until he spots you weaving through the chaos.

When he sees you, it’s like the world slows down for a second.

You’re wearing lavender cargo pants that sit snugly on your hips, paired with a cropped black lace camisole that makes his heart stutter for just a moment. Black Converse complete the look, scuffed enough to suggest they’ve been with you through thick and thin. A lavender hair clip holds most of your hair back, though a few strands fall loose, framing your face in a way that Jeongin can’t stop staring at. Black sunglasses perch on your nose, and you adjust them as you walk, the motion so casual yet so captivating that Jeongin feels his nerves vanish in an instant.

“Wow,” he breathes as you approach, his grin widening naturally. “You look fucking incredible.”

You smile shyly, one hand fiddling with the strap of your bag. “Thanks. You look really good too.”

Jeongin chuckles, his fingers brushing through his hair in an unconscious attempt to play it cool. “Ready for this? It’s loud as hell and probably overwhelming as fuck.”

You glance at the crowd, taking in the swirling chaos of people and cars, and then back at him. “I’ll be fine,” you say softly, your voice a little unsure but determined.

“Good,” Jeongin says, his grin steady as he falls into step beside you. “I’ve got you if it gets too much.”

The two of you start making your way through the lot, the polished cars glinting in the sunlight. Jeongin’s eyes are half on the vehicles and half on you. As you stop in front of a sleek black 1967 Camaro SS, he notices the way your shy demeanour seems to melt away, replaced by something brighter and more confident.

“That’s a 1967 Camaro SS,” you say, your voice calm but laced with excitement. “It’s got a 6.5-litre V8 engine. Iconic in drag racing because it was built for speed.”

Jeongin whistles low, leaning slightly closer to get a better look. “Damn, you really know your shit.”

You laugh softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I grew up around this. Dewie used to drag me to events like this all the time when I was a kid. I guess it just stuck.”

“Lucky Dewie,” Jeongin says, his tone light but genuine. “Wish I had someone teaching me cool shit like this growing up. All I know about cars is, well, what you’ve told me.”

You glance at him, your lips twitching into a small smile. “You’re not a bad student.”

He grins at the compliment. “And you’re a damn good teacher.”

As the crowd grows thicker, the noise and press of bodies start to feel suffocating. Jeongin notices how your steps falter, your shoulders stiffening slightly. Without a word, he holds out his hand, palm open and steady.

You hesitate, glancing at his hand before slipping your own into it. His grip is firm but warm, and the way his fingers curl gently around yours sends a surprising wave of calm through you. He doesn’t comment, just squeezes your hand lightly, his silent reassurance louder than words.

The two of you stop in front of a low-slung beauty with gleaming chrome accents. A 1964 Chevy Impala.

“This one’s a 1964 Chevy Impala,” you say, your voice regaining its steady rhythm. “It’s iconic in lowrider culture. The hydraulics make it bounce, and it became a huge part of the aesthetic.”

Jeongin tilts his head, studying the car with a newfound appreciation. “So it’s not just about looking cool, it’s about the vibe, right?”

“Exactly,” you say, your face lighting up. “It’s like an art form. Every lowrider tells a story.”

Jeongin nods thoughtfully. “That’s fucking cool. See, this is why I brought you. If I’d come here alone, I’d just be walking around saying, ‘That one’s shiny,’ and calling it a day.”

You laugh, a soft sound that makes Jeongin’s chest feel warm. “You’re not that clueless.”

“Eh,” he says, smirking. “You give me too much credit.”

After a while, Jeongin steers you toward a quieter corner of the event, where a beautifully restored 1970 Dodge Charger gleams under the sun. He stops in front of the car, his grin turning mischievous.

“So,” he says casually, “after this, we’re hitting a drive-in.”

Your head snaps toward him, surprise flashing across your face. “A drive-in?”

“Yup,” Jeongin says, leaning against the Charger like he owns the thing. “We’re watching Transformers.”

You gasp softly, your sunglasses slipping down your nose as you stare at him. “You’re kidding. I love those movies.”

“I fucking knew it,” Jeongin says, his grin growing cocky. “Alien robots turning into cars? Totally your thing.”

“Shut up,” you say, laughing as you swat at his arm. “They’re amazing, okay? Don’t judge me.”

Jeongin holds his hands up in mock surrender, though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “No judgment. I’m a genius for guessing right.”

“Smartass,” you mutter, though you’re smiling.

“Alright, since I’m such a genius,” Jeongin says, nodding toward the Impala, “how about you teach me more about this lowrider thing? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, diving into an explanation of the car’s history and cultural significance. Jeongin listens intently, his hand still clasping yours as he alternates between watching your animated face and the cars you describe.

By the time the sun dips below the horizon, casting the event in shades of orange and gold, Jeongin feels like he’s learned more about cars, and about you, than he ever expected. As you both head toward the exit, your hand still in his, Jeongin can’t help but grin.

Jeongin pulls into the drive-in as the twilight sky gives way to the inky darkness of night. The massive outdoor screen flickers with pre-show ads, casting faint colours across the lot filled with cars. The smell of popcorn and sugary snacks drifts through the air, mingling with the low hum of idling engines and the buzz of voices from moviegoers settling in. Jeongin parks dead centre, a perfect spot, not too close to the screen but far enough from the busier clusters of cars.

He hops out of the car with the enthusiasm of someone who’s been planning this moment for weeks. Swinging open the trunk, he starts pulling out a carefully curated collection of pillows and blankets from the back.

There’s a plaid throw he stole from the frat house couch, a ridiculously soft fuzzy blanket he bought specifically for tonight, and a mismatched pile of pillows he’s swiped from his own bed and, maybe, Seungmin’s without asking.

Jeongin hums to himself as he arranges everything, fussing over the setup like he’s decorating a showroom. Every so often, he glances over his shoulder to check on you. You’re standing by the passenger door, fidgeting with the waistband of your lavender cargo pants. The black cropped lace camisole you’re wearing hugs you just right, but Jeongin can tell you’re overthinking the outfit from the way you keep tugging at the hem.

When he finally catches your gaze, he grins. “Oi, stop stressing and come over here. I went full Pinterest on this setup. Tell me it’s not amazing.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you walk toward him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously prepared,” he shoots back, stepping aside to reveal the setup in the trunk. The space looks like a cosy little nest, the blankets layered with precision and the pillows fluffed to an absurd degree. “I’ve outdone myself, haven’t I?”

You peer into the trunk, your lips twitching into a small smile. “It’s a lot. But it’s cute. I’ll give you that.”

“Cute is the vibe,” Jeongin says, crawling into the trunk with exaggerated care. He pats the spot beside him. “C’mon. This trunk isn’t gonna appreciate itself.”

You climb in, settling cross-legged on the blankets as Jeongin sprawls beside you, legs stretched out. From his hoodie pocket, he pulls out a plastic bag crammed with snacks.

“Alright, check this out. I raided the store like a fucking professional. I’ve got chips, candy, those overpriced mini ice cream tubs, and even gummy sharks. Your wish is my command.”

You blink at the array, clearly impressed. “You didn’t have to go all out, you know.”

Jeongin waves off your concern, tearing into a bag of sour candy. “What’s the point of a drive-in if you don’t go all out? Now, pick your poison. I got, like, three kinds of chocolate and enough sour shit to ruin your tongue for days.”

Smiling shyly, you grab a bar of chocolate from the bag. “Thanks. For all of this.”

Jeongin shrugs, popping a gummy shark into his mouth. “Easy. You're worth it.”

The opening scenes of Transformers begin to roll across the massive screen, and Jeongin leans back on his elbows, his attention half on the movie and half on you.

You sit cross-legged beside him, nibbling on the chocolate bar as you watch the screen, your face lit faintly by the shifting colours of the film and Jeongin can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at you.

At one point, you catch him staring. “What?”

Jeongin grins, his voice soft but teasing. “Nothing. You’re just really pretty.”

Your lips part but instead of deflecting, you lean forward, hesitating only a moment before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

For a second, Jeongin freezes, his brain short-circuiting. But then instinct takes over, and he kisses you back, his hand cupping your jaw gently as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

The kiss is slow at first, tentative, but it deepens naturally. The muffled sounds of the movie and the chatter from nearby cars fade into the background until it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other.

As his lips move against yours, Jeongin shifts slightly, reaching up to grab the trunk handle. With a soft tug, he pulls it closed, sealing you both in the cocoon of blankets and pillows. The dim light filtering through the tinted windows casts everything in a muted glow, and the sudden privacy thickens the air between you.

Jeongin rolls onto his side, balancing his weight on his elbows so he’s hovering just slightly over you. “What about your alien robots?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours as he grins.

You smile, your voice barely above a murmur. “I’ve seen it before.”

Jeongin laughs, a low, breathy sound that vibrates against your chest. “Fair point.”

He kisses you again, his movements slower but more deliberate this time. One of his hands skims down your side, resting lightly at your waist, while the other brushes back a strand of hair that’s come loose from your clip. Your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging lightly, and Jeongin lets out a quiet groan that sends shivers down your spine.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, his forehead pressing briefly to yours as he catches his breath. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Your shy smile returns, but there’s a newfound confidence in the way you pull him back down into another kiss, your hands threading deeper into his hair. The heat between you grows with every passing moment, your breaths mingling as the kisses become more urgent, more consuming.

The movie continues to play in the background, the flickering light of alien robots and explosions casting faint shadows across the trunk. But neither of you pays it any attention. In the small, cosy space you’ve carved out together, nothing else exists. Just the softness of the blankets, the warmth of Jeongin’s touch, and the electricity sparking between you with every kiss.

The muffled explosions and grinding metal of Transformers fill the car as Jeongin’s kisses deepen. His hands rest on your waist, the tips of his fingers brushing just under the hem of your camisole. His touch is firm but unhurried, like he’s savouring every second.

Your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging gently when he leans closer. The world outside the car, the other moviegoers, the faint sounds of laughter and popcorn rustling, is nothing more than a blur.

Then, with an obnoxiously loud clunk, the trunk pops open.

“Well, isn’t this cosy as fuck,” comes Jisung’s unmistakable voice, thick with amusement. “We thought we’d join you. Make sure Innie isn’t fucking this up.”

Jeongin groans audibly against your lips, pulling back just enough to glare over his shoulder. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

But Jisung, clearly having no intention of leaving, hops into the trunk with the agility of a hyperactive squirrel. He sprawls across the carefully arranged blankets and pillows, his shit-eating grin so wide it could light up the entire drive-in.

“Not kidding,” Jisung says cheerfully, adjusting a pillow behind his head. “Someone’s gotta supervise. You have a history of being a horny little shit.”

“Seriously?” Jeongin mutters, exasperated.

To make matters worse, Minho climbs in behind Jisung, moving with the nonchalance of someone who gives exactly zero fucks about personal space. He flops onto the blankets, crossing his arms as he stares at the screen.

“Nice setup,” Minho says, smirking. “Mind if we stay?”

Jeongin turns fully to glare at them, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, I fucking mind! Get out!”

“Can’t,” Jisung says, shrugging. “It’s a free trunk. Movie law.”

Jeongin groans again, louder this time, and mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like I hate my life. But instead of wasting more energy on them, he turns back to you, his expression softening as he leans in to kiss you again.

You’re caught between embarrassment and laughter as Jeongin’s lips meet yours once more. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your face slightly to deepen the kiss. For a moment, it feels like the intruders aren’t even there.

“Aw, look at them go,” Jisung says loudly, his voice dripping with fake awe. “It’s like watching a rom-com but with more tongue.”

Jeongin pulls back just long enough to shoot Jisung a deadly glare. “Jisung, I swear to God, if you don’t shut the fuck up-”

Jisung grins, completely unfazed. “What? You’ll make out harder?”

Minho snorts, finally pulling his attention from the screen to deadpan, “Ji, stop being a noisy bitch for five minutes. Optimus Prime is talking.”

Jisung ignores him, sitting up and stretching his arms. “So,” he says, looking at Minho with exaggerated seriousness, “should we make out too? You know, balance the energy in here?”

Minho doesn’t even blink. “Shut the fuck up.”

“C’mon,” Jisung presses, leaning closer. “You know you want to. I see the way you look at me.”

Minho sighs like he’s carrying the weight of the world, finally turning to glare at Jisung. “If I kiss you, will you shut the fuck up?”

Jisung’s grin widens. “Probably.”

Without a word, Minho leans in, planting the world’s fastest, most unimpressed kiss on Jisung’s lips before pulling away and returning his attention to the screen. “There. Happy?”

Jisung pouts. “That was barely a kiss. Where’s the passion, Minho? Where’s the fire? The tongue! I need tongue!”

Jeongin, who’s been watching this unfold with equal parts horror and amusement, finally breaks. “Holy shit. I fucking knew it. You two are into each other.”

You stifle a laugh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “Honestly,” you say, your voice soft but amused, “I thought they were already together. My gay radar must be slightly off which is mildly embarrassing considering Megan Fox in this movie was my gay awakening”

Jisung gasps dramatically, turning to you with wide eyes. “Another queer! Oh my God!” Without warning, he scrambles across the trunk and into your lap, throwing his arms around you like a particularly clingy cat. “We’re besties now. Sorry, Jeongin. She’s mine.”

Your laughter bubbles over, bright and uncontrollable, as Jisung snuggles against you. “You’re ridiculous,” you manage between giggles.

Jeongin stares at Jisung, his jaw slack. “Are you fucking serious right now? Get off her!”

“No can do,” Jisung replies, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth like this is all perfectly normal. “I’m keeping her. She’s officially my emotional support gay.”

Jeongin throws his head back, groaning. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Minho, clearly done with the entire situation, mutters, “So do us straights just go fuck ourselves, or what?”

“Minho,” Jisung says sweetly, leaning his head against your shoulder, “you’re heteroflexible. Which means you live in the glorious denial glass closet where your gay thoughts stay nice and cosy.”

Minho deadpans. “I’m two seconds from throwing your ass out of this trunk.”

“Promises, promises,” Jisung replies with a wink.

You’re laughing so hard now that you’re practically crying, and Jeongin just shakes his head, his lips twitching into a grin despite himself.

“This is the weirdest fucking date I’ve ever been on,” he mutters, though there’s no missing the affection in his tone.

“Same,” you reply, resting your head against his shoulder. Jisung remains draped across your lap, happily munching popcorn, while Minho continues to glare at the screen, occasionally pelting Jisung with stray kernels.

Despite the chaos, there’s a warmth in the air that feels like belonging. It’s messy, loud, and a little ridiculous, but it’s perfect in its own fucked-up way.

general taglist: @nightmarenyxx

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lizzybeeee · 2 hours ago

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Me watching my Inquisitor walk off with Solas at the end of the game like :) "aw cute ..hey if Mythal hadn't told you to stop would you have murdered her,," (I haven't played the other endings yet).

This!!!

(Obviously, not murdered her personally, but he absolutely had no qualms about doing the ritual once more - knowing the consequences of it.)

Let me preempt this by saying that I wanted there to be a happy/fulfilling ending to Solas and Lavellan. I'm not a blind hater! Just someone who finds it very hard to put my own Lavellan in the place of the 'Lavellan' provided to us in DATV.

The Solas/Lavellan relationship already was kind of iffy (power imbalance, constantly dragging her culture, removing her vallaslin/then dumping her, constantly lying to her, etc...) but DAI did a great job of making you feel sympathetic towards his plight - especially after Trespasser! He woke up in a world so divorced from his own that it was unrecognizable - the people he had done so much for were suffering from the consequences of his actions, justified as they may have been at the time (stopping the evanuris). His actions led to great suffering in the pursuit of preventing even greater suffering.

Even after we learned of his plans in Trespasser, it was very much: "cool motive, still murder."

I felt sympathetic towards Solas and the implication that we could change his mind, given to us in Trespasser, gave me hope that we would be able to convince him of another path. That he could find a place in Thedas as it is now and look to the future. That was why I chose the option to try and get through to Solas, despite knowing that his plan would lead to mass death/terror if it went ahead.

I always expected the Veil to fall at some point, but i was hoping there'd be some more nuance to it than: veil gone, demons everywhere, lots of people die. Well, I was very wrong lmao.

But, if anything, the game made me entirely unsympathetic towards Solas.

The moment he started his ritual he chose the old elven empire over Lavellan - over her family, friends, home, culture, and anything else she may have loved/valued.

And he did this twice.

He chose to pursue lowering the Veil - knowing that thousands would likely die. For all his insistence of 'minimizing the damage' he went in knowing that many more people would die because of his actions. There was no justification of stopping the evanuris this time either - no excuse of not knowing the potential consequences of his actions like the first time.

He chose to begin the ritual that ended up releasing the Elven Gods - knowing full well the risks it entailed.

He killed Varric - whether by accident or not, it was by his hand.

He chose to use blood magic to manipulate Rook into thinking that Varric was alive - puppeting his corpse around in Rook's eyes and putting his words into Varric's mouth.

He chose to manipulate, mold, and guilt Rook into the old 'switcheroo' in his mind palace/regret prison

He chose to 'free' the elven people by bringing down the Veil - regardless of their feelings about it (elven Rook can call him out on this!), never mind the consequences or ramifications of a bunch of people suddenly having their bodily autonomy overwritten by now being magic/having immortality.

He looked at the devastation caused the by the Gods and still went ahead with trying to bring down the veil again.

These are the thing he does in-game - not even mentioning making the dwarves/titans tranquil, creating the blight, started the chain of events that led to SOUTHERN THEDAS BEING DESTROYED, and taking my good gear from Inquisition!

Aside from the 'all lore leads to Solas' reveal just being really dull it also does nothing to help with making me sympathetic to him as a character. The audacity of this man to say: "it was like walking in a world of tranquil" when he fucking lobotomized the dwarves/titans is wild in retrospect.

If he didn't do the ritual at the beginning, if something else went wrong and that resulted in the God's being released, I could understand why a Lavellan would still want to get through to him. It would make sense - she could stop him from doing it again at the end too! You can still have him conflicted and torn between the restoring the past or pursuing the future - but this doesn't happen!

He never chose Lavellan in this game! Hell, it's Mythal who convinces him to stop?!! He owes her nothing! He's learned nothing from this!!! He's only stopped because Mythal 'pardoned/freed' him - once again showing that he values the ancient elves/mythal over her!!!

How impactful would it have been to have him choose Lavellan over Mythal! To show us this! Mythal, who 'crawled through the ages for a reckoning' (which was retconned to her being sad about the elves lmao) telling Solas to go through with the ritual and him touching grass and saying 'no'.

It's something I feel was wildly out of character for him as well - he never came across in DAI as being subservient to Mythal, if anything the ending cutscene gave me the impression they were equals?!

After everything he did in this game - after all we learn about what he did in the past - I had no interest in reasoning/appealing with his ass. None whatsoever. My inquisitor/Lavellan asking if Solas can be reasoned with only made me regret making that choice - perhaps other people's inquisitor's would say that, but mine would not, especially after everything that happened in game.

She came across as delusional: standing on the ruins of a blighted Minrathous, the south blighted to hell, dead all around them, blight tentacles everywhere, a gaping hole in the Fade right next to them:

Lavellan: "I forgive you! All you have to do is stop." Solas: "But I cannot."

Boom! There it is.

At this point it's not romantic, it's just sad! Sad that she's spent 10 years pining after a man who seemed to learn nothing at all from what happened in DAI.

------------------------

There should have been some sort of a dialogue option with Lavellan right before you go into the big fight - she can ask you what you think of Solas, if he's truly regretful for everything that happened, and then you can give her an answer that can 'change' her approach to Solas in the end - giving the player some agency as to how their Inquisitor would actually respond to this.

Ending One: Bye Bye Bye

Rook: "HE'S A GUY."

alternatively, "Look around you! Look at what Solas has done - what he's threatening to do even now after all of this! You gave him every chance to turn away from this path. So did Varric...and look at what he did!"

Lavellan is bitter/angry with Solas: "It seems we never were people to you after all."

Refers to him as 'Fen'harel' and not Solas - dig the knife in deeper, give us angst!

"Just go. You love the Fade, don't you? Enough to do all this - enough to kill Varric for your pride in a dead world that no longer exists. We were never 'real' to you, were we?"

Solas says his goodbyes, expresses his love, and Lavellan steps back.

Solas leaves voluntarily, his 'situation-ship very much over', to stew in his regrets for the rest of his life.

Ending Two: Bittersweet Goodbye

Rook: "Girl, it's been 10 years."

alternatively, "You loved him once, perhaps you still do even now - after all he's done - but love wasn't enough. Love does not excuse this."

Lavellan is firm with Solas, does not excuse his actions, but has a bitter sweet farewell: "I had hoped…it doesn't matter what I hoped. You made your choice - it wasn't me. It wasn't our friends. It wasn't this world. You can make a choice now - if I ever mattered you. If I, if our friends, were ever real to you."

They can have a final goodbye, a goodbye smooch, and then he can go off to the Fade.

Bittersweet ending - acknowledge what they had and then provide closure.

Ending Three: Happy Ending (?)

Rook: "He didn't mean it babe. He's tots sorry."

alternatively, "He seems to regret what's happened - I've seen his memories, his regrets. He believes this is the only path he has. Perhaps you can convince him to find another."

Default Lavellan ending basically

"There is no fate but the love we share" blah blah blah

As happy an ending as it can be when you have Lavellan fuck off to the Fade - leaving behind her life, friends, family, and whatever remains of the world for an eternity.

I'm being mean but I genuinely wanted a happy/fulfilling ending for them both too - despite the fact that this game seems to want that ending as well, it did little to convince me of that. :(

I genuinely liked Solas in DAI - despite his flaws, I thought his romance was compelling and I was hoping to be able to convince him to change/alter his path. I can see what they were trying to do with him in DATV but it's so hard to feel sympathy for him when we see/know the results of his actions. The story in this game is doing anything but convincing me to give him a 'happy ending'.

'Love' can't excuse what he did and neither would my Lavellan.

Also RIP Sandal's Prophecy about the Fade lmao

#super compelling character #stuck in a very uncompelling story #if you're happy with the ending I'm glad! my Lavellan would have kicked his ass though #hard to feel sorry for a guy who ends up inadvertently nuking the world while planning to do a ritual that will kill thousands #Oops I accidentally pressed the nuclear missile codes instead of the regular missile codes my mistake tee hee #i would have LOVED the chance to try and change his mind btw - I WANTED TO SAVE HIM #Gareth David-Lloyd was the highlight of this game #which makes this all the more depressing #delivered the performance of a lifetime for this trainwreck of a romance ending #tag with your preferred ending #i swing violently between 'bye bye bye' and 'bittersweet goodbye' lmao #I've also read the post about the ending mirroring andraste and the maker and I honestly think it's pretty cool but...#counterpoint: she's Dalish #fuck the chantry #DAI Solas is superior change my mind #wasn't reduced to an exposition machine either #my cat stepped on my laptop while writing the post - i copied and pasted his message to u all:#uyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy126qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw12qw5rtt #words of wisdom #thewardenisonthecase once more coming in with tags about having a bittersweet ending - 100% what i wanted #datv spoilers #datv critical #bioware critical #dragon age the veilguard #solavellan critical

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perenlop · 2 months ago

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kirby wuvs you…… and chocolate………

#oh my god……. the episode that started it all for me………………#flower power is the episode i walked in on my brother watching when i was 6 and got me watching the show #which kickstarted me getting into nintendo in general. so im very very fond of this episode #like even aside from it just being a cute watch #its insane to think that if i didnt watch this then i might not be who i am today….#bc my family did NOT want me into video games and tried very hard to squash it #i think they allowed kirby bc he was pink and therefore acceptable as a girl thing #echoed voice #hnk liveblog

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marsbotz · 5 months ago

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not going to lie i do find it quite upsetting that so many ppl think that animals that arent immediately relatable to humans are completely incapable of thought or feeling. and thats the only thing that matters when it comes to animal rights arguments a lot of the time

#like the take of ohhhh Well this animal is smart and shows emotions!!! it might even be smarter than humans!!!#as if that matters literally at all #like the argument abt fish or hamsters or w/e being stupid (wrong) so it doesnt matterrrrr if they dont get cared for properly #as if its ever ok to mistreat animals.#in general the idea around smaller or less relatable animals being worth less is super frustrating #like if u post abt microwaving ur hamster when u were 6 everyones like ‘lmaoooo i did the same thing’#but if u posted that abt a dog….? The Gallows #we shouldnt have to care abt mistreatment of animals bc theyre cute or funny or smart #i just watched blackfish again and it annoyed me how much ppl were arguing abt the orcas being so smart and emotional etc #which is true. but thats just smth that makes their captivity harder. u jnow. like if they were simple and had simple needs it would still #be wrong if they werent met #its just such a huge issue bc of how hard the needs are to meet in captivity #same as like. bears and shit. you physically cannot give them enough territory to stop them going insane #ik theres ppl who believe All captivity is wrong #like my strpmum is one who believes nobody should own Any pet #which is. Imo a stupid argument and not at all sustainable. ppl need companions thats why weve had dogs and cats for thousnads of years #but also they are such successful pets bc their needs are so easy to meet!!!!!#its this misconception that fish or rodents are Easy Beginners pets… in reality they are 100x harder. but their lives are worth less to ppl #bc they dont show love the same way #well. anyways im not very good at expressing my thoughts abt serious stuff #but its smth that rlly upsets me #its frustrating too bc ppl either dgaf abt animals aside from Maybe the cute ones or r too extreme in advocating for the freedom of animals #like u can absolutely give indoor cats proper enrichment. its just slightly more effort #and its not as simple as just. emptyinb out the zoos. READ ABT KEIKO!!!!!#i feel its a very interesting topic. but ppl r very b/w on it #idk i feel the majority of ppl know so little abt animals its like. impossible to get thru #like ok cool u think zoos r bad bc the lions get saddddd. but u also think snakes and bugs and rodents are nothing but disease spreaders #and cant also have complex lives #Tsk. Whateevr

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cuteniaarts · 3 months ago

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@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

#my art #artists on tumblr #the legend of korra #original characters #jinora #wow. nia drew a canon character? what is this?? who was I replaced by???#but joking aside. a small explanation for this crack ship #originally it was me editing my timeline and realising that Kumisai would be around 14/15 during book 4. the same age as Jinora #so my mind immediately went 👀👀👀 and I decided to go for it #since in sotrl I sorta implied Jinora had a gay awakening by watching Suiren. so.. why not go all out and make her another baby queer?#no offence to Kai. what they had was rather cute tbh. but it felt kinda out of nowhere and just added for the sake of parental drama #plus she was a young girl meeting someone her age for the first time. of course she got a crush #doesn’t mean she has to stick with it you know?#anyway. as for how they would meet. Midori could introduce them :D #Kumisai is Daneli’s daughter. who’s a friend of Summiya’s. who’s Zaheer’s sister. who’s Midori’s uncle. who’s friends with Jinora #and spirits know Jinora deserves to act her age a little more often. she has way too many responsibilities on her shoulders #so maybe Midori would think that a friend her age would do her some good #and don’t even try to tell me these two wouldn’t be absolutely adorable puppy crushing on each other. look how cute Jinora turned out here #might be the first time I’ve drawn her? not sure. maybe I did before but it was A LONG time ago. 2019 ish #but okay. enough rambling about Jinora. back to Kumisai #I don’t really have too many headcanons about her yet. but she’s probably rather happy and carefree #having a large support system as a result of being raised communally #I think she considers Daneli her mom and the others are her aunties. auntie Shezan in particular is a notoriously bad influence :)#and maybe one day she’d get to meet her bio mom. but only if that’s something both of them want. not sure yet #I feel like she’s rather disconnected from her water tribe heritage since everyone around her is Earth Kingdom. save Phailin who’s half FN #but she still has small hints of blue in her clothing. the colour matching her beautiful eyes. maybe she is curious about her bio dad a bit #since unlike with her bio mom no one knew him and can’t tell her anything. that’s bound to come as a natural curiosity at some point right?#maybe that can be part of her story when she’s an adult. trying to find her bio dad. but ultimately it doesn’t matter that much #because Daneli is her mom and the only parent she needs <3 I’m really just throwing out suggestions here to fill the tag space #kaaatttt come discuss all this stuff with me I waited all night for you to wake up >:) distract me from my grandma’s tv watching

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orcelito · 1 year ago

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he's honestly unfairly pretty when he cries

#speculation nation #fanny watches trigun #this is the last post of these for the day .#i dont rly have anything to say about it aside from. i rly enjoy this screenshot lskdjfslkfj #vash is just So pretty in every iteration...............#ngl i think Lost July might be my fav episode of the 98 anime. it's up there at least #so much lore dropped... so many implications made... & vash being ridiculous all throughout (Until He's Not)#they didnt have the whole 'i dont like to sleep with men... Especially not ugly ones' line. the 2nd part of it was gone.#tho he still called him cute when he saw his face!#not beating the bisexual allegations even in the japanese version

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foccaccia · 8 months ago

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does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

#i say lesbians but i guess i mean sapphic #im just like. tired of gnawing #and of men also. sorry men in my life i love you but on god if i have to pretend one more man is butch just to get #content that isnt m/m or m/f im going to turn into a horse and run into the wilderness until im saved from the glue factory by a plucky #young woman except instead of letting her have her formative summer where she trains me and bonds w me and wins a competition w me #im going to commit horse suicide in front of her & change her life forever. just because im so tired of bland CW-marketable women kissing &#digging for scraps in a refuse bin while brushing aside 7002993829292929939292929399394 gay and het romances #m text #i will also take nonfictional lesbians if its like a story #not to be whiny on main but one of the hardest hurdles i had to jump wasnt realizing i was a lesbian. i came out to myself and to friends a #lesbian multiple times. but i would always walk it back when a friend would express doubt or a male friend would ask me out #bc i dont and especially then didnt know very many lesbians in person. and so i had to turn to examples #and all i fucking had were fictional women who liked men. or fictional lesbians who were so cleaned and sanitized and prettified #(you all know what i mean right. the 2 skinny white girls one blonde one brunette. im not crazy right)#and i would be like. i dont feel things when i look at these fictional lesbians so i guess i belong back here #(this is also bc my gender ended up being fuckier than i realized but shhhhh)#I WAS GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THESE TAGS but theyre too long and im lost.#anyway the point is if people werent so fucking weird abt fictional or onscreen lesbians maybe thered be a lot more people comfortable bein #out as lesbian #like sorry but this awful ouroboros of 'all lesbians onscreen have to be cute and sanitized' meaning that people write and believe wlw has #to be cute and pure and sanitized (OR a 'badge of honor' bc good for u u doodled two women together or had it as a background in ur fic)#meaning that therefore all portrayals of lesbianism continue to be like this. is just #and im also gonna be honest theres probably a lot of good sapphic media im just in the wrong circles to have stumbled into lol. so #yknow. personal viewer bias here #but i still like swing wildly between overly brandishing my dykeness as a badge to feel like im proving im lesbian #and like. backing up under a blanket bc i dont wanna be weird or annoying or freak people out #but if people just Saw Normal Ass Lesbians. aough.#im going to watch revolutionary girl utena one of these days even if i struggled w the writing style the first few episodes #I JUST WANNA SEE AN OLD BUTCH ONSCREEN GET SOME PUSSY.#like it also doesnt help im mostly femme4butch so seeing 2 femmes on screen is like. okay cool so what. but only femmes are 'marketable'

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kyeterna · 7 months ago

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"Oh General, what did you witness the night of the tragedy?

Oh General, could you have even known that your inability to act doomed the world?"

The Army of the Primordial Flame, the only strictly military guild- working directly under the Fourth Overseer, has been known for its expansionist expeditions throughout the world. Expedition "AURORA" was one like many. To lead such an expedition means your strategic skill has been acknowledged by the Fourth Overseer himself, the greatest honour. Gale was never really religious, he didn't care much about the Fourth's vision of the world. He just liked the prestige and importance that came with his role. And he was good at it.

The expedition was successful, only taking 4 months with no casualties. Back at Farport, he had managed to return with all 560 soldiers and mercenaries contracted from the Pharus Guild alive. Their trip back to Arkhan would have taken 3 days by boat. As Volkan had warned him; "It would be the best course of action, after all I have good reason to believe you might get attacked by enemy guilds on your way back. Keep an eye out for ambushes". The god couldn't accompany them as he had other matters to attend to. But Gale had other plans. His wife had given birth to their first kid just 2 months prior and his home, Spithol, was less than a day away. Sure it was the opposite direction than their destination, but surely it should be safe. There was no way any other guilds could have possibly known about the detour. And he missed his family so much.

They were at the town gates by evening. A joyous occasion, worthy of festivities. By night an entire festival was ready for both the civilians and the soldiers to enjoy. A celebration of the success and safe return. In honour of the hero of the town Gale. What later turned into the event known as the Unyielding Flame Massarce.

After a few hours of time with his family, plenty of food and a couple of drinks, movement away from the venue caught Gale's eye. A little drunk but still aware enough of his surroundings he ventured deeper into the dark alleyways of the town. At that point people were either fast asleep in their houses or still celebrating at the centre of the town, so the only light by now was coming from the clear starlit sky. A moment of peaceful quiet. The general slowly breathed in. The scent of the night humidity and- gunpowder?

What a terrible time to be drunk. After investigation, as much as one can investigate when under the influence, he realised that most of the town seemed to have been trapped. But no sign of culprits- everyone he had seen up to that point were people he knew. None of them could have done this, right? He ran to the town walls, towards the gates. Frozen shut via an impenetrable substance. Upon further investigation he came to the grim realisation that they were all trapped inside for good. As he looked for potential suspects or ways out if the worst was to happen he came across one of the people contracted from the Pharus guild. "We are in trouble- have you seen anyone suspicious around town?". A pause. It was too dark for Gale to read that man's expression. "No- not that I am aware-" "You need to warn the rest of the crew, we have to find a way to evacuate everyone" another pause. "Sure".

After minutes pass with no news from the crew or any results from his investigation, he headed towards the centre himself. And in the distance, in the sky, he could clearly see smoke. Mind racing he ran towards the festival. Tripping on his way back- what a terrible time to be drunk- he came across that same mercenary holding a torch. Making eye contact they both froze. Adam- he thinks that was his name, stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. Gale tightened the grip on his sword. He thought he understood what was happening in front of him. He thought for a moment that of course this was happening. He thought of killing the man in front of him. But he hesitated. At a standstill he couldn't help but think how much he just wanted to see his wife and daughter. The sound of explosions and loud screaming brought him back to reality. And he ran towards his home. Letting the man go.

It didn't take long for the fire to spread throughout the city. It didn't take long for the laughter of joy from the festivities to be turned into screams for help. It didn't take long for the smoke to overtake all the senses. Chaos and confusion spread. Gale tried directing his crew to help the people calm down- but where would they go? There was no escape, none that he could find. It didn't take long till the men in his crew who weren't consumed by the flames starting fighting each other. And all Gale could think about at that moment was how badly he wished to see his wife and daughter. He ran and ran, burnt corpses surrounding him. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh slowly choking him. His armour suffocating him, oh how badly he wanted to get rid of it. But it was his only protection from the fire. And he ran as towering flames grazed him. And he ran tripping on collapsed people, some still conscious enough to scream in pain. Maybe they were all cursing him at that moment. But all he could think about was how badly he wished to see his wife and daughter.

When he finally arrived at his home, it was completely ablaze. "Lyn?!" He shouted, choking on some of the smoke. No response. He jumped inside and looked around. He couldn't see anything but fire and smoke. Parts of the roof had already collapsed. And as he walked forward the floor beneath him crumbled and he fell in the basement, which had been untouched from the fire. As he was attempting to stand up again more debris fell on him, knocking him unconscious.

Hours passed before he finally got up to the first light of dawn. He slowly stood up, and made his way upstairs. By now his house had been completely burnt. Looking outside there were still fires burning some of the houses but he couldn't hear anything or anyone else. He walked further inside the house. A burnt corpse hunched over the what used to be a cradle. Ah. He sat there for what felt like ages, staring at the gruesome sight in front of him. He got to live out of sheer dumb luck. Just dumb luck.

When evening started approaching he just walked out. Very few fires were still burning in the distance, only some smoke now visible. He started looking around the streets and houses for anyone alive. He made sure to count them all. 2, 5, 10, 27, 42, 75, 100, 341, 784, and the number kept growing, and growing. People he could no longer recognise, people he had grown up with, people he had fought with, people he had so horribly failed. 1207 civilians dead. 558 soldiers dead. 1 missing person. Only survivor- Gale himself. By night he reached the gates of the town. Still completely frozen shut. And so he dug.

What followed after was a haze. He just walked for days, dwelling on that night. Ways he could have prevented it, ways it could have been better. Plagued by images of that night, all the victims. Why did they have to die. Why did he have to live.

A chuckle echoed in his ears. He looked up and saw a figure of legend. At least he thought he saw Her. It had to be. White robe, blindfold, the three halos decorating Her head, the pale hair and complexion. The doting Mother, Creation, Amatheia. She was smiling at the man. A smile that invoked fear. She reached Her hand out. The Witness of the end, of fates worse than death. And the verdict was decided.

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Have some stills I like

(for the previous one i like both cleaned up and sketch versions a lot)

#arterna #video #docas #dreams of copper and snow #docas gale #flashing #ok i am not sure what trigger warnings i should put like implied child death? mentions of burnt corpses? i suppose #tw implied child death #tw mention of death #tw mention of burning #I love my silly little csmp au I love how Gale just cant catch a break #tfw you take such a massive L you become god's specialest little boy #it has horrible consequences #actually I don't think I have ever drawn pre-apocalypse Gale aside from a SINGLE sketch in my notes....#also i hate how sympathetic Gale comes off in this video because even back then he sucked #he just hadn't lost his mind yet. But he still sucked as a person #dont let his beautiful blue eyes and pitiful look fool you- he WAS a prick even back then #it's just that- as much as he was a prick he still didnt deserve watching everyone die horrible deaths yknow #and then being cursed with visions of doom and then fired by your boss (literal god) in the worst way possible (you turn into a monster)#this thing took me days to finish it is not cute ueueue

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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago

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#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza series #ryu ga gotoku 7 #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 #masumi arakawa #snap sketches #ive decided captions are for squares and ill just keep the tag rambles LOL #anyway. the tags are just for bitching dont look. i hate being at my moms this sucks its so cold and i always feel powerless here #yk how i said i wanted to work on comm stuff yesterday yeah I Couldnt. not as much as i wanted to anyway #it was too cold to focus and im always apprehensive here god i forgot how much i hate this place #wanted to TRY and force something today so i could pick up from yesterday but even just doing this felt draining #i actually wanted to do a cute arasawa comic but. i repeat moving sucks LOL #anyway. complaining aside let me explain the bling #cause i wear this watch and this bracelet. all the time LOL #unfortunately the watch is from my mom but the bracelet's from my dad. of course #unfortunately i do love watches so ill cope #this is also to continue my Arakawa Should Be Da|go's Fourth Dad propaganda. cross accessories :)#anyways speak of the devil (my mother) my brother just came in to deliver a message from The Devil and put me in a worse mood #everything sucks i cant wait fr tomorrow so i can leave LOL #i was only gone for a month and everything got worse while i was gone because my mom sucks ANYWAY.#sorry i had to use this cute pic of arakawa to vent but god. god i hate it here im miserable LOL #anyway since i cant draw that comic anytime soon i might just try to squeeze a fic out of it #ill have to steal from that alcohol comic i did but it's fine. ok bye. might go get soju later. and chicken...#genuinely the only good place around here since they closed my fave hibachi place #'snap i thought you were trying to stop drinking' so did i then i came back here ☠️☠️not even a restaurant it a gas/liquor station #my dad gave me grocery money i think im allowed a lil treat... ok im goin fr now LMAO BYE

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dollerinna · 5 months ago

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I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

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“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

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Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

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st4rbwrry · 6 months ago

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𝒜𝑀 𝐼 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴?

✧｡˚ a shy nympho camgirl seeks a partner to help her film content on a dating app. soon, meeting up with a handsome man who's willing to do anything for the pretty girl he chats with.

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 14k. pwp, lowercase intended, age gap ꒰ toji is 36, reader is 24 ꒱ submissive reader, pleasure!dom toji, bondage ꒰ belt ꒱, check ins, heavy praise, overstimulation, aftercare, unprotected, videography, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱ , squirting + kreaming, spanking, choking, hair pulling, mild degradation, intimacy on high, toji is intimidating, manhandling, masturbation, daddy kink srry not srry, pet names ꒰ baby, girl, pretty, sweetheart, angel ꒱ minors aren't welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!

౨ৎ — ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ꒱: this took me so long to finish y'all but im super proud of it. one of my favorite works so far so i hope y’all enjoy. ♡

you hold your notebook in your hands, a bright pink color with numerous doodles sketched onto its cover, your pen on the back of your ear as you slowly cross off a list of things you needed to buy while browsing on your laptop. your room is quiet aside from the soft sound of music playing from your stereo, beyoncé’s cowboy carter album playing from start to finish while you slumped into your soft pink duvet hiding beneath a white canopy slip. the air is crisp how you like, a fresh, chunky strawberry is chewed between teeth, and your skin is freshly scrubbed and moisturized, only covered in a matcha green two piece short and tank set. a laptop sits on your thighs as you cross your legs, twirling your left calf as you bury your back into your mountain of plushies.

this was frustrating. you never realized how hard this would be to find someone to fuck, let alone film content with. you’d made a profile on hinge a week prior to now, and most of the matches weren’t close to peaking your interest. most of the men seemed like creeps, some too old . . . giving very much grim reaper. and others, too young, freshly adults at that. you think you’ve made yourself appealing enough. cute profile with full faced pictures, personality traits, daily interests even . . . but it somehow didn’t attract those you truly wanted.

as your sticker covered macbook’s motherboard screamed for air, warm on your thighs and now sliding on your tummy the further you leaned back. . . you were growing tired. huffing and puffing from literal exhaustion. am i wasting my time? should i just go out and find people like in the movies? but this generation made it so hard to even physically connect anymore. what happened to people running into each other at a coffee shop, a book store, a park? sharing interests and going on dates. granted, what you were looking for was strictly work related. you wouldn’t dare stare a stranger in the eye you bumped into at the farmers market and ask, “hey, wanna fuck me for content?” it’d be tasteless. you have self respect. others may think differently considering your side quests to fund the unfathomable reality of adulthood on top of just being a girl.

“this fucking sucks,” you groan to yourself, thumb aching from how quickly you hit the big ‘x’ on the bottom left corner of your phone screen.

maybe it was time to call it a night. you had an early shift at the salon, about five clients to be exact, booking either re-twists, goddess braids, or a wig install. so you had to save your hand strength. sighing, you shut off your laptop and set it aside on your nightstand, disconnecting the music from your phone before getting up to cut off the light. your fluffy cat that laid on the edge of your bed shooting her head up in alarm, ready to follow at any adventure you pursued.

“relax, mommy’s not going anywhere,” you smile assuredly, knee dipping into the bed as you lean over to smooch her on her tiny head, pointy ears tickling your cheek as you watch her tail sway. “good night, sweet — oh, fuck! i forgot to feed you. i’m so sorry baby.”

the alert in your tone has the black cat stand in attention, cursing to yourself as you slip on your heart printed slippers and make your way towards the kitchen, your studio apartment being on one level making this task easier. you listen to her tiny paws thud on the floor after she jumps off the bed in a hurry, dashing in front of you, damn near tripping you.

“oh my god, you’re so extra,” you shake your head, but couldn’t help but laugh. she meows at you violently, as if you hadn’t fed her in two weeks. rolling your eyes, you reach for her bowl off the floor to clean before opening a fresh can of fancy feast, using one of her plastic spoons to arrange her dinner.

whilst she awaits, you can’t help but glare at the screen of your phone as it suddenly dings, forgetting to turn off your ringer. hovering over it to activate your face i.d, it immediately opens the hinge app, reloading the page to see a new match. the air you inhaled suddenly catches in your throat as you stare wide eyed at your screen, the man in your view is just what you’ve been waiting for.

“oh, holy fuck,” comprehension wasn’t on your radar seeming as you lost the ability of the cat food in your hand, dropping it to the floor and flinching from the mess your fur baby began chowing on. sucking your teeth, you mutter, “goddamit. no, no. stop it.”

flailing your hand gently to get her to stop, you snatch the can and dump the remainder in the deep oval ceramic bowl. you try to ignore the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, unsure why it went so astray. maybe it’s because you’ve never seen a man so fucking fine. deadly fine, foul almost. as if it was such a disrespect to all beings. she’d cleaned up her own mess, so you take the time to grab your phone and lean against the sink to observe this man further. he had matched with you, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so depressed a few minutes ago . . . unless you were waiting for him to like you back.

toji. it’s his name. simple, nice. he only has about three pictures, one of them a huge black cane corso with a gorgeous silky coat. it made sense given the vibe he was giving. dark, intimidating, sexy. jet black hair, slender smoke gray eyes, sharp jaw and a fascinating scar on the side of his mouth. another thing you noticed was how big he was. most of the clothing he wears sticks to his skin like glue. molding the outline of his muscles, the thickness in his arms, the heaviness in his thighs, the brick trail of his abdomen.

a certain feeling burns in your chest, and between your legs as you scroll to see the last image. he’s sitting on a beach chair, thighs spread in black cargo pants, matching tee, a yuengling beer in his hand and a cross dangling around his neck as he takes a sip of his beverage with a hungry look into the camera. it’s cocky, possessive, dominant. the dark brows above his eyes lowered with attentiveness. his shirt is half risen above his abdomen, and you can easily see the dark trail of hair leading into his crotch. it’s full there, clear as day. so it’s easy to tell he carries something serious.

fuck. “fuck,” you feel yourself growing hot, blowing out a breath of air before making your way back to your comfy bed to stare at him more. what a fucking man. honestly, you’d never seen someone so of your standard. exactly your type. before messaging him, you check his profile a bit deeper to make sure you’re not mistaken of anything. find some flaws, though profiles only express so much.

thirty-six, that makes you moan. that’s a twelve year age difference. though that only makes him hotter. not too old, nor young. he’s a . . . gynecologist.

“so he’s good with pussy,” you giggle to yourself. he makes a decent amount of money. he’s into fitness, clearly. cars, politics, sports. seemed like a pretty laid back man to you.

without even realizing, he had already messaged you, your heart dropping to your toes at his first response.

toji

i’ve seen you before.

you blink, fingers typing quickly.

you

mhm, where?

he takes a moment to reply, so you fiddle with your necklace out of anxiousness, laying on your stomach and swaying your feet.

toji

sounds a little embarrassing, but an adult website.

you

sounds about right. does that bother you?

toji

i wouldn’t have matched with you if it had.

you

so you’re saying if i wasn’t a porn streamer you wouldn’t even look my way?

those three dots prolong longer than you wanted, only making you aware he didn’t know what to say.

toji

i matched with you because i find you attractive. whether you want me in that way or not is up to you. i want you.

he’s straightforward. you can’t help but bite the tip of your acrylic, smiling like a stupid teenager, kicking your feet in the air. the attraction being mutual boosting your ego.

“i want you, daddy,” you joke to yourself.

you

i’m assuming you’ve read my bio. i’m looking for someone to film content with! if you’re down for it, we can meet in person and talk about it! i’m not really looking for a relationship. . . right now at least. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

toji

of course, sweetheart. i’m free saturday’s and sunday’s. you don’t seem that far from me. let’s grab italian. my treat.

there’s something blunt and grown about him, you can practically feel his intimidation radiating through your fingertips. he seems just like the kind of man you knew would fuck you stupid. scream his name until the walls bled. until you’re trembling, and the sheets are off the bed, and his sweat is on your back so arched to the point where it’s painfully delicious. biting your lip, you had nothing else to lose. you needed his help, he’s offering lunch, you only live once.

you

you had me at italian. saturday at 2?

toji

saturday at 2. see you then, darling.

𓇼

the nostalgic scent of blue magic hair grease fills the air of the salon, your fingers working tirelessly to intricate detail into the woman’s scalp you worked on. your last client of the day in fact. you couldn’t wait to clock out and grab a bowl from chipotle, thinking about it your entire shift. fingers entwining artfully as braiding hair flicks from angle to angle, you finish up the final knotless braid with a hard working sigh. you tried to remain optimistic after she’d taken her seat, unfortunately arriving an hour late to her appointment. said she had ‘issues’ with her boyfriend, smelling like weed and partially slurring her words when she came in. but you could care less when you were on a time crunch.

you hated when people wouldn’t respect the clearly listed rules on your account. so, for that, she’d be paying a late fee. after you applied moose and rosemary oil to her scalp, she’d pay you through apple pay and be on her way. you thank her, and when she’s out the door, you instantly turn to your friend and roll your eyes.

“you’re too damn nice for doing her hair. i would’ve told her ass to kick rocks after showing up that damn late,” amethyst speaks, crosslegged and shaking her head as she digs her fork into her chinease platter, filled to the brim with shrimp fried rice and popcorn chicken. the smell alone makes your tummy growl. “did she even tip you?”

“not at all,” you brush off, not even wanting to think about it anymore. “still got my money at the end of the day.“

“hey, you’ve been off the whole day, everything alright?” amethyst proceeds to question, and your shoulders slump as you halt from sweeping up hair off the floor.

aside from tireless appointments, you couldn’t get toji out of your mind, super impatient, even anxious for saturday to come. it’s two days away until you finally meet him. you’ve texted here and there, shared a few updates on life or spoke of relating passions and wanting desires. you had told him your occupation outside of being a camgirl, and how dissatisfied with it you’ve become. this field wasn’t for you anymore. the passion for it is dying, the clients grow irritable, and you just wanted to breathe. you feel like you’ve been working your whole life. in conclusion, since fifteen. started from an early age dealing with responsibilities due to financial constraints within your family. your mother raised you on her own, along with four other children. and being cursed with the older daughter syndrome, you developed faster than you wanted to. barely having time to live your life until you moved out. even then, it’s been all about work. you needed an island getaway.

“this week just burnt me out. i’m just glad it’s almost over,” you reply, not having the energy for a full conversation. she was a sweet girl, albeit very nosey. you try to keep events in your life private, gossip to a minimum.

“awe, bookie,” she pouts. “what’s your plan for tomorrow? me and the girls were gonna check out that new club ‘sin.’”

shaking your head, you disagree. “now you know i’m not big on clubs. have an art piece to work on anyways before the weekend comes. so i’ll be busy.”

amethyst nods. “well, alright then. i guess i’ll just see you whenever you get booked again.”

you don’t know why that felt like a backhanded response. you’re only here three times out of the week, and most of those days you see about five to six clients. everyone else had a bigger following on social media, meaning more attention, more money. you believe because you aren’t so passionate for this major, your ability to promote and put effort only shows in your adult entertainment career. since it’s where most of your income comes from as of four months ago.

“guess i’ll see you.”

after packing your ballerina pink telfar bag with all of your tools, you wave goodbye to everyone before making your way to your white honda civic, interior a vast splash of pink matching the two-piece skims set you wore. shorts since the weather is about seventy-five degrees today. buckling yourself in, your only agenda is to head to chipotle and then home. ordering your delectable signature bowl of barbacoa, fajita veggies, guacamole, pico de gallo, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and refusing to eat the bowl without their vinaigrette and a side of chips.

it’s around 9pm when you’re finally cleaned off from a hot shower, curly hair pushed back from your face with a hello kitty headband as you finish your skincare, sitting at your vanity while scandal plays in the background. you’d already eaten your food about an hour ago, even taking a thirty minute nap to regenerate for this art piece you needed to finish. in total, you had about three jobs; hair stylist, camgirl, ceramicist. you had an etsy profile where people bought cute little things of yours you liked to sculpt. tea pots, coquette flower pots, plates, heart cake jewelry boxes . . you name it. you had a few orders for mini miffy trinkets you had to ship out by saturday.

saturday. the warmth in your gut swarms at the thought of seeing that man. quite frankly, you’ve been unable to relieve your mind of him. he’s like a poison, hard to get rid of, but desperate to stay bonded with you. and you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his embrace; small and fucked out. since he’s been busy with work, and so have you, there hasn’t been much time to even call and chat. then again, you wanted to wait to see him in person. to feel that magnetism stronger than it already was. two days away and you’re anxious to even hear a hello.

while patting your toner into your face, you gaze through your mirror to see a scene playing from your show where fitz and olivia fight before they fuck for the hundredth time. the way he grabs her, speaks to her, caresses her and worships her. it has you thinking of toji instantly. the burn for him aching more than normal. practically feeling his eyes on you the way he stared into the camera in that one photo, long fingers clasped around the glass bottle, craving for that lock around your throat. wondering how tight he’d make it. would you be able to breathe? would he kiss air into your mouth to help you? tell you it’s okay, to feel it all, to take it all, to cum on his dick till you're milking him dry?

your thighs squeeze together from your imagination, staring at your reflection . . . and it’s all in your eyes. deep arousal, and the harsh clench you currently held your moisturizer in, close to grinding in your seat to ease the buzz of your clit. there’s only one solution for this, and you might as well make money off it. standing to your feet, you think not a second more before retrieving your laptop from your closet, setting it on your vanity desk and logging into the domain of prettyfuckbunnies.com. it seemed to be the main site for growth, given your eight thousand dedicated subscribers. you check yourself in the mirror once more before going live, rolling your chair back a few inches so they could see your entire frame. dressed in nothing but a small red slip dress.

angelbwrry is live!

your subscribers were notified well before others, hundreds of them swarming the chat within seconds. you were a new favorite, a prized star of the platform. admiration from both women and men. people who tipped you just for being pretty. others here for the obvious. applying gloss to your lips, you stare intensely into the camera, the character you play going into affect.

“hi,” you mutter quietly, slowly titling your head to the side as you bite your lip and sink lower into your seat, back arching. “i’m so fucking horny, and i just need someone to watch me fuck myself.”

the black kuromi chair you sat in begins to sway as you gently swing yourself side to side, eyes trained on the chat to witness them praise you, some comments degrading off the rip that you chose to ignore, others demanding you get on with it. for the most part, you tend to be discreet with sharing much about yourself. technically, you weren’t hiding much, your face easily accessible and probably even less hard to track. you’d always pray that there wasn’t a psycho willing to go that far just to find you. role playing was your forte. writing ideas for new personas to please them. and you had fun doing it. you’d never do something you weren’t in to for the satisfaction of others. never took private calls, or meets ups for obvious reasons.

but, you had to talk about him.

“i met this guy i can’t get outta my head,” the softness in your tone making dicks go erect and clits beat, the chat asking questions and growing fond of your way of interaction. “well, maybe not met. we’ve texted, and i meet him in a few days. possibly someone you’ll see on the channel. and . . .”

the tenseness in toji’s neck bothers him as he groans and leans back into his office’s chair, fork in one hand as he chews on his salad from sweetgreen a coworker grabbed for him, reading through emails his secretary confirmed appointments of, needing to add it into his schedule to be aware of what he can fit between. needing to run a few errands this weekend. the white doctors coat clings to his body, one foot raised to rest on the front of his desk, manspreading and jaw shifting as he finishes his food tiredly, knowing he wouldn’t eat a thing once he got home.

“goodnight doctor fushiguro! get some rest tonight, yeah?” a body comes to view of his secretary; a woman with glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, a chunky face and beautiful red hair. she waves enthusiastically.

toji smiles, the older woman trying her best not to swoon. he’s young enough to be her son. “good night, miss thorn. thank you for today. you get home safe and enjoy your trip. i wanna hear all about it when you’re back.”

“you know you’re the first person i’m running to tell!” she chirps, toji chuckling. “i left my keys on the main desk. don’t forget or else you’ll have to break open the drawer for your patients files.”

“i’ll be sure to remember.”

twenty minutes pass and toji’s cutting off lights to his small facility and locking up. twirling the keys on his long finger, starting up the sleek black maserati ghibli gt sitting in the parking lot from his key. a black patent leather messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, doctors coat discarded and now attired in his usual black tee with matching slacks. setting it beside him in the passengers seat, he gets a ding! from his cellphone, resting his shoulders in his seat before checking what it was, perhaps it was miss thorn, she tends to leave things behind.

angelbwrry is going live!

toji raises a brow from the notification, checking the sapphire bulova watch on his wrist for the time. 9:54pm. why were you up so late? forgetting people have other schedules, he’s so used to being asleep around this time, much more having to be done today the only reason he was still in the office way past the hour it closed. part of him grows inquisitive, wondering if he should invade your privacy or what not. though, he’s not new to your escapades. he’s seen every inch of your body, memorizing it quite literally. he’s not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him off a few times these past months. he feels like he knows you on a deeper level now, so itching for that perverted behavior would be indecent to both of you. especially if he’s seeing you in two days . . . for a conversation about what you do and his potential participation.

nothing wrong with just watching, right?

as the engine to his car hums, toji finds himself in a devious act, clicking onto your feed and finding you displayed in your feminine bedroom. the videos on mute momentarily before he’s going full screen and turning his phone sideways. there you were, small and standing tall as the slip that barely clung to your body arose the more you moved. hips wide, thighs full, nipples taut and tits defying gravity. the strap on your right shoulder falls elegantly, your hair hoisted up by a claw clip and your brown skin radiating glow. the man openly groans from the sight, knowing you smelt so good.

“wait, i have an idea!” the cute tone of your voice blares through his phone, a smirk painting his stern features as he watches you scramble for something in your room, your slip riding up your ass. the hourglass shape of your body, to the pudge of your tummy . . he’s enamored.

he, and a thousand other people watch curiously as you lift the seven foot mirror that previously leaned against your closet door and position it on the floor at the edge of your bed. then, you’re digging into your bottom drawer for something else, toji catching a brief glance at the chat raving and thirsting from the view of your perky ass peaking out, a tiny birth mark under the left one. the cellulite in your legs that squish together from size, the stretch marks leading from beneath your ass cheeks down to the backs of your knees. so fucking soft.

“ta-da!” you wave the object in your hand courageously, an evil grin on your face as you show the crowd your confetti designed dildo, the brow on toji’s face raising. he almost wants to chuckle. you’re so silly, he thinks. watching you dance your way back towards the mirror where you hum a tune to yourself, swaying your ass in the air for dramatics before plunging your toy onto the center of the mirror so it sticks, watching it spring for attention.

“gonna pretend this is him, ‘till then. can’t wait any longer,” your hands slowly drift up your thighs to show your audience your bare pussy, hiding between those luscious thighs of yours. he wanted to suffocate his face there badly. what you say almost goes over his head. pretend who’s what?

toji ignores the flow of comments filling the chat, degrading you to some degree which he briefly clenches his jaw from, feeling somewhat protective. others praising you, acting like your cash pigs. pathetic, he thinks. he sees one comment in particular that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

prinxxxspeach

aren’t you seeing him saturday? call him now to come help you girl!!

don’t fucking call me, angel. i’ll nut in my pants right now if i hear you say my name. he’s slightly amused that you spoke of him. is that why you went live so late? thinking about him? so pent up, and impatient, you had to just fuck it out your system? he’d fuck you a lot better than that lousy toy you had, that’s for sure.

you giggle from the comment, contacts still in your sockets so you can read what people are saying from afar.

“he can wait for me. he’s making me wait,” it’s like an old film camera flipping to the next scene, or maybe his mind had gone blank from your response because now, now you’re sinking your tiny pussy onto your toy after coating it with lube, the reflection of your cunt for all to see in the mirror. watching as this toy splits you apart, pretty folds swallowing it deep as you balance yourself on the tips of your toes. fully sitting and rolling your hips to adjust, your mouth falls wide and a whimper escapes.

“nng, s’so deep,” that voice of yours is going to get you in trouble. the broken moans you release as you lift your hips to grind and bounce, face falling forward to look at yourself, seeing someone other than yourself. your imagination begins to run wild, and you forget a cameras watching you, dainty fingers caressing the mirror before laying your palm flat, as if you’re choking him. biting your lip, you occupy your other hand by molding at your chest.

you uphold your balance well, clapping your ass down against the mirror now coated with your slick, pussy squelching ridiculously loud aside from your weak moans and desperate whimpers.

“fuuck,” your breath hikes, sounds broken and almost pleading, eyes rolling back as you collapse to your knees and lazily rock back on your idea of a dick. by this point, toji’s eyes are malicious, and his dick is hard in his slacks. shifting in his seat uncomfortably from what you’ve done.

“lemme see your face,” toji whispers in the air, the heat rushing to his cheeks. the things you do to him truly fascinating.

“g’na cuum, mmph daddy!” a high pitched squeal you let out stuns him, your hips shifting back and forth hurriedly. the flesh of your ass moving like water, and he’s in a trance. daddy? what the fuck are you doing to him? he wonders if you knew he was going to purposely join your live. already talking about him gave it away.

“c’mon, angel. show me,” the blood swells in his cock rapidly, tip damn near dripping with precum, unable to help but palm his heavy hand with it, humming and widening his legs.

“too-jii,” it’s faint the words you falter, a pathetic whimper followed by drool covered lips and a cute squeak. your body trembles from the depth of your orgasm, riding out your high and giggling cutely to yourself. to others, the words were inaudible. but to him, he knew exactly what the fuck you said.

the way you smile at yourself in the mirror, as if you’re looking at his fucked out face, you slowly upturn your head to bring it back to the livestream, a drunken, and dangerous grin on your face. never in his years of life had a woman made him gulp. to fear for what you’d do to him. how bad you’d break him, make him go fucking crazy. yearn for your pussy on his mouth.

you were fucking ethereal.

𓇼

of-fucking-course you’d be running late. you were supposed to meet toji at two and it’s two thirty. the location of c’est moi exactly twenty five minutes away from where you lived. you were close to the downtown area, not fond of parking down there but you’d drive faster than an uber can. you made sure to make toji aware of your lateness so he’s not getting the idea that you stood him up. never. not after the other day. you don’t know what happened, but your mind took over your body and you couldn’t help yourself. you only pray he didn’t see it, not expecting him to. it’s embarrassing now that you think back on it.

you manage to make it out of the house twenty minutes after, throwing on a simple white pleated cami dress with a ruffled hem, ruched bust, and pairing of olive green sandals that had tea rose shaded orchids clipped onto the forefront. a teri cherry printed coach bag tight on your shoulder after you sped sixty miles per hour towards the restaurant, finding parking and hurriedly making your way inside.

“hi, reservations for fushiguro. i’m extremely late,” as you approach the host, you make out the sight of the man you were here to see outside instantly. sitting alone sipping a cup of coffee. his side profile all you can see, that deep scar carved into the side of his mouth, his veiny hands big as he clutches the mug . . and your throat clogs up.

he’s fucking . . . big. fuck being nervous before, this made you want to run and hide and never show your face. he’s practically hunching over the table, making it appear smaller than it actually is. his hair is midnight black, his broad shoulders and muscles suffocating the sleek gucci button up he wore, a few undone, eyes studying his cellphone, awaiting your call. one thing about being a doctor, he’s learned to be patient. understanding your alarm forgot to go off, or rather you slept through it . . seemingly growing to become impatient. he needed to see your face now.

“right this way.”

your feet follow blindly behind the hostess, trying your best not to trip over your own feet, heart beating drastically against your ribcage. your palms are sweaty, feeling the warm breeze of spring air hit your skin as the hostess leads you outside to the table where toji resides. he sees you before you see him, the sun beaming on your skin not nearly as hot as your cheeks suddenly became when finally making eye contact. your right hand picks at the ends of your dress anxiously, toji taking a stand to welcome you like a gentleman. it’s like slow fucking motion the closer you approach him, and when you’re inches apart, you can see the stillness on his face. he doesn’t smile, his face is almost unreadable. not sure if he’s upset with you for being late, or he’s just not one for emotions.

“hi,” the hairs on your skin stand from the deep baritone of his voice, visibly swallowing as you stare up at him, height difference making you dizzy.

“hi,” you blink like an innocent doe. he’s hovering over you and the waiter whom sets the menu down on the table, his chest almost touching you as he comes around to pull your chair out for you to sit, finally getting so close to the point where he could breathe in your sweet perfume, the peony and white musk scent has him forcing down a groan. he’s staring intently at your backside, dark hair going to the middle of your back in wild curls, a bit frizzy due to the humidity outside.

“can i get you anything to drink, miss?” the waiter addresses you, politely waiting for toji to move out the way.

why is your entire body on fire? no man has ever had this affect on you. his aura exudes something sinister, overtly masculine even. “u-um, yes please. can i just have a frozen sangria?”

“of course, i’ll be back with that while you decide on your meal.”

“thanks,” you smile sweetly, trying your very best to avoid complete eye contact. once the two of you are alone, you build up the courage to look at him again. he’s seated once more, leaning back into his chair with a left arm resting over the back of the chair with his legs comfortably spread. he liked to do that a lot. his eyes are low, head adjusted somewhat to the left as he observes you.

“good to finally see you,” he’s the first to speak, again. that fucking voice of his; raspy and dominant. how are you supposed to carry out a conversation without folding?

“y-yeah,” you clear your throat, sitting up straight after shyly clamping your hands between your legs and trying to hide like a porcupine. “i want to apologize again for running late. out of all days my phone decides to not ring my alarm. i rushed here as soon as possible. i hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

his lips began to rise into a soft smile, and that eases your nerves. no one would notice you’d rush to get ready. so naturally pretty with your face glowing from rose water and petroleum jelly, hair brushed out, lashes only curled with mascara, lips lined with black liner and smothered with gloss while your prescription glasses sit on the bridge of your nose. too cute.

“sweetheart, no need for the sorry’s. i understand.”

he’s not mad, thank fuck. “kay,” you smile back, tucking pieces of flown hair behind your ear. “did you order yet?”

“was waiting on you,” he replied. “though i kind of lost my appetite. i’m craving something . . . else. so, order anything you’d like.”

that was surely a double meaning. now, you’re not so sure if you had an appetite anymore. you couldn’t bare to eat in front of this man right now. when the waiter came back with your drink, you downed half of it, toji chuckling from your anxiousness. you needed the liquid courage before uttering another word towards the man who watched you with motive, intention. the intimidation brewing from his body is corrupting you. you order a simple caesar salad, nothing too fancy.

“oh! i printed out the document we have to go over.”

toji’s eyes trail to your hands that reach for your purse, acrylic nails painted a peony pink pulling out your notebook stuffed with an arrangement of papers as well as a pen. “guess we can call it like an nda, affidavit . . whatever. i’m sure you’re aware of the obvious on why. um, we can discuss boundaries within the bedroom . . . things we will or will not condone. a safe word is a must. if you don’t feel comfortable showing your face i’d blur it out, but given i do livestreams most of the time that’ll be impossible. so i’d suggest a mask, which i’m actually in to so if that’s something you’re willing to do . . “

toji nods as you continue to ramble, carefully analyzing everything you say, though, his mind begins to drift elsewhere. he still couldn’t get that damn livestream out of his mind. killing himself these past two days just thinking about how fucked out he needed you to be, buried deep and crying underneath him. the cute expressions on your face when you moaned his name so publicly, as if you dared him to see. how desperately you fucked yourself on that pathetic toy of yours from the very thought of him. your whines, the illicit way you stared at your reflection in the mirror beneath your sculpture of a body you rolled seductively. he shifts in his seat, attempting to conceal the stirring of hunger within him as you continue to talk. he doesn’t need a fucking contract. he’d fuck you good and wouldn’t tell a soul.

his expression is firm yet tinged with a hint of something different this time . . anticipation. “why do you film content?”

the unwavering intensity in his gaze causes you to cut your sentence short, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you ponder on his question. was he even listening? “wha—what do you mean?”

toji chuckles. “i mean, why do you film? is it your main source of income? do you enjoy submitting to hundreds of people? does it make you feel confident, make you feel good? why?”

that should’ve been something you prepared yourself to answer. most of the guys you filmed content with didn’t have personal answers to ask, nor did they care. they were simply there to have a good time and go about their lives. you came into this situation thinking that’s what toji wanted as well. now you’re getting a gut feeling it’s more than that. or maybe you’re just an over-thinker. the whole point of making an account on hinge was to find better people to connect with for work, but most of them never got the job done, and you were tired of faking an orgasm and boosting a man’s ego. something about this one though, you can feel that he’s willing to worship you.

“well, i actually have three jobs. hairstylist during the day, which i’m growing to lose passion for. i’m good with pottery so i make little things and sell them. and then as for filming content . . . it’s fast money. the economy is shit right now. minimum wage jobs aren’t cutting it. rent prices are horrifying. i want to fund a new life for myself. to travel more, and just be a girl.”

toji smiles, admiring you.

“bali has been on my mind as a place to reside. it’s always been a dream of mine to be somewhere tropical. less breathing in polluted air and eating foods they pump full of hormones. mexico and puerto rico are also on the list. i really need to dip my feet in some sand or something. i don’t know. it’s also kind of sexually liberating to be in my own bubble and enjoy myself in that way. i do it for no one but myself.”

toji sits up in his seat, taking a piece of ciabatta and smearing softened butter onto the breadpicked up a slice of bread and smeared some butter onto it. “i think that moving to a place like that is a good idea. there’s a lot of bullshit in the world that’s hard to run away from. if you feel like it’s what’s best for your mental and emotional being, then go for it. you seem like you’ve worked real hard your entire life. you deserve a break.”

the heat in your cheeks rise as he leans himself closer, guiding the bread to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite. you smile softly, sitting up a bit in your chair before taking a bite. toji watches intensely as you moan from the taste.

“isn’t it much better when it’s given by someone else?”

“yeah, it’s good. real good,” you swallow, licking your lips to rid the breadcrumbs, reaching for your glass of wine to take another sip. “i have most of my savings in tact, so my plan is to be out of here by next year.”

the unadulterated pull between the two of you threatens to consume him as he stares at you, his body almost painfully yearning for your touch, your taste, your everything. toji can no longer resist. he reaches out and gently cups your chin, his fingers gently yet firmly tilting your face up to meet his smoldering gaze when you dared to look away. “how ‘bout you take me with you.“

the entire scene switches, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of lust and vulnerability makes you fall shamelessly into his trance. you feel your heart patter against your chest, scanning his entire face with small indications of panic, and excitement. you’ve been dying for his touch all week. you pray he’s as good as he looks.

“what’s the catch?” you breathe inordinately.

toji smirks. “we get fake married or something and change our identities.”

you shake your head at his joke. “i need to see a ring first, mister.”

“mhm, you look like a marquise kinda girl,” he tongues his cheek, in deep thought. “go to bali. i pay, you enjoy life.”

pairs of lips are mere inches away, toji ghosting his softly amongst your own, yours parting to follow. you feel like you’re in space, the feeling extraterrestrial. surrounded by depths of nothingness with only the two of you existing.

“i. . no, i can’t let you do that,” you shake your head dismissively.

“you deserve it.”

“you don’t know me.”

“good. that’ll be the perfect occasion for us to spend more time together,” he concludes, softly pecking your lips to coax you into giving him what he needed. you’re stunned, unsure what to say, or to think. so, he doesn’t make you think.

“fuckin’ kiss me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of desire and vulnerability, eyes flickering from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes. “can’t wait any fucking longer.”

the heat of his breath mingles with yours as his lips brush against your own in a hungry, fiery kiss. his mouth devours yours with an intensity that borders on primal, each movement filled with a desperate need to taste and consume everything you have to offer. his tongue slips past your parted lips, eagerly exploring the depths of your mouth as if seeking to memorize every inch of you.

you were drawn in fully now and you didn’t think you’d be able to pull away even if you wanted.

within the moment of your passionate kiss, as toji’s rough hand trailed to grasp your throat, your waiter begins to approach with your salad, eyes widening as he noticed how deeply, and somewhat aggressively your make out session was. practically swallowing each others faces. deciding to mind his business and turn the other way. he’d come back in a few minutes. toji breaks the kiss abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of reluctance.

“damn this table,” he mutters, his gaze shifting towards the barrier separating the two of you. his breathing is ragged, body practically trembling with pent-up need. even so, he manages to pull himself together enough to maintain some semblance of composure.

he’s left you breathless, feeling something in your chest you’d never felt before, this attraction for him otherworldly. your lips are pouted, hands bawled into little fists levitating in front of your chest, as if you were begging for him to come back. when he begins to rise to his feet, you wonder where he’s going, eyes coming into immediate contact at the bulge growing tight in his jeans. you swallow, shifting your gaze up to the tall man that hovers over you possessively.

“go home, send me the address. i gotta handle a few business calls then i’ll be there at eleven.”

you hadn’t noticed the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you give him those damn puppy eyes, as if you’re so fascinated by him, almost scared of him to leave right now. toji grabs the pen resting between your little pink book, signing his signature on the indicated line on the bottom of the page for your gratification. after, he’s fishing for the brown leather wallet in his pocket to place down a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the tab and the waiters tip. then, he leans down, lips gently brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. he lingers just a moment longer, as if reluctant to let go.

“see you later, angel.”

finally, and with that, he steps back, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment before he turns and walks away, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoes in your ears, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a lingering sense of anticipation for the evening to come. starstruck entirely.

𓇼

a rush of arousal burned within you like wildfire as you lay in your empty bed, yearning for the man who's been gone for only a few hours now. caressing your collarbone while chewing on your lip, your phone rests in your palm, excitement brewing for twenty minutes now ever since he texted you to let you know he was on the way. a black baby doll is adorned on your soft skin. ruffle lace details at the neckline and hem with a satin waistband tie at the back into a cute bow. matching mesh g-string panty, and floral patterns along the bust and hip area.

you took the time to curl your hair, reminding yourself to actually put your contacts in this time. also keeping makeup to a minimum with just mascara, a bit of blush, and some strawberry chapstick. skin moisturized in baby oil and spritzed with miss dior. . . waiting. the camera’s set up across from your bed, trying to distract yourself by engaging in conversation with your viewers. the comments were raging about how impatient they were to see something, but how did they think you felt? you could barely walk out of that restaurant without feeling your legs shake.

he intimidated you beyond measure, and god knows what he’s going to do to you when he gets here. it’s a fear and form of greed you’d never felt before.

“my fucking hands are shaking,” you giggle anxiously, smiling to yourself and shaking your hands before dramatically breathing out.

as you waited, you did little things to keep your buyers entertained, showing your ass every now and then as you cleaned your room like a cute maid. call it foreplay. sitting on your knees now become uncomfortable, so you aim for lowering to your tummy and stretching your arms ahead of you, ass raised up. as soon as you get comfortable, your head pops up from the sound of heavy footsteps surrounding the small area of your home. it’s him. you’d hope, leaving the door unlocked so it’d be easier for him to enter.

“oh, fuck—y’all,” the anxiety is even worse now, mentally preparing yourself with steady breaths and shoving your face into the bed to scream happily. the emotions are bipolar. “he’s coming up.”

toji steps closer to your slightly cracked open door, pushing it open wide to see you. his demeanor nothing short of serious when he gets a good look at you, hearing you yap at your camcorder with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he rests his right shoulder against the frame of the door, staring at you, admiring. his boots hit along the floor the closer he gets to you, and that cute ass you had perched up. the lights in your room are dimly lit, citrus candles spread around and led lights from your vanity illuminating the area. the vibe is nice, he likes it. like he likes you.

you continue to speak to your livestream and pretend he wasn’t there, trying to ignore your heartbeat picking up. the tension is in the air. you tried to steady your breathing as you continue to ramble about nonsense; animal crossing, sims you wanted to recreate and purposely wicked whim them. anything to distract yourself from the sparks shivering through your body. you prod the inside of your cheek trying to bite back a grin when you finally feel his hands on your hips, eyes watching the chat go wild from the brooding man behind you. what makes it all the more hot is that he hasn’t spoken a word, feeling like an intruder. stalking, waiting.

“so yeah, i’m thinking about dying my hair red. i feel like my face is kinda full to have a silk press so i’ll look . . off? maybe p-pin ‘urls,” a wave of pleasure shocks through you when you feel him press the outline of his dick against your cunt, dragging you back to air-fuck you once or twice. a few times. for the tease of it. his fingertips lightly flowing along the curves and contours of your body, your hips being the most sensitive. gasping and twitching from the feel, the thong you wore barely shielding how wet you were.

your breath became heavier, and you found it harder to continue speaking. you felt like moans would slip out of if you continued to react to his touch, the heat between you two rising. you were drawn fully into him. the reaction from him gave you a confidence boost, a slick smile showing on your face. while his body speaks of his own growing need, he remains a silent observer, his intense gaze watching as you maintain, or try, your playful conversation with the camera.

“i gotta admit something,” you smile into your hair that falls angelically around the frame of your face. his form, silhouetted behind you, takes on an ominous yet seductive presence. even though he remains hidden from view, his yearn is palpable, eyes locked on you as if he could consume you with a single glance.

“i fucked myself thinking of him,” a jolt of electricity runs down toji’s spine as he recollects the image. a low, involuntary groan escapes his throat as his grip on you tightens. “those of you who don’t remember. it was really, really good.”

that’s the final trigger. in seconds, a rough palm strikes the flesh of your ass, causing the cutest squeak to emit from you. toji’s wrapping his other fist around the softness of your hair and pulling you back to his hard chest. his cologne is strong, enrapturing even. your hand reaches beside you to catch his wrist in your grip, feeling the coldness of his expensive watch while he’s busy locking your jaw still and pressing his lips beneath your ear.

“really?” the tone is condescending, and as you nod frantically, pushing your ass back to feel him more, all you can hear is the unraveling of his belt. slowly removing it, the sound of the leather rubbing against the buckle and his pants. the anticipation fills you at an alarming pace. “i knew that, angel.”

how? wait, did he fucking watch the live you made that night? your legs nearly go weak at the possibility, sheer embarrassment consuming you. he wasn’t meant to see that. yeah, you told him about it. but him seeing that, then having lunch with you like nothing happened is crazy work. he noticed you’re frozen, chuckling darkly behind you.

“relax, doll. i can pretend i didn’t, ‘n you can show me all over again.”

he grabs your wrists, pining them behind your back with a rush of power fueling him, crossed hands sitting on your ass.

“this okay, baby?” he scans the side of your face for approval, using the smooth leather to bond them together. you hum, lips bitten and nodding obediently.

the look on your face in the camera is so worth the thousands of views from people who were just as desperate as he was to see you submit. your hands wriggle to touch him, laying your head on his shoulder and biting your lip as his teeth graze from your shoulder, to your collarbone, and your neck. your body’s completely on fire, and he makes it worse when he gently shoves you forward to fall on your face, back arched and ass high for his view, and theirs.

toji stared down at you as you remained there, fully surrendering yourself for the taking. his larger body leans over yours, fingers grabbing your chin to force your mouth to open. toji brushes his lips along yours, your desperate mouth sinking into him, feeling that same spark you felt earlier during lunch in your chest. he deepened the kiss to give you what you wanted, easily reading you, his tongue ravaging your mouth with his waist grinding into the shape of your ass. the kiss is so wet it has you mewling like a cat in heat, losing your breath.

“give me a safe word, hm?” toji sucks on his lower lip, the arousal in his eyes ruining you. a heavy hand rubs circles on your ass before hitting it again, another cute sound leaving that pretty mouth you had.

brushing your cheek along your bed set, dark curls dancing around your face and a pout on your lips, you whimper, “strawberry.”

“mhm,” your stomach flips when you felt his hand drift between your inner thigh, toji’s tongue skidding over your lips the same time his fingers apply pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles after he pulls your panties to the side, your babydoll resting pretty on top of the rolls on your back. your fists are balled tightly in your restraints, widening your mouth to suck on his tongue before giving him a deep kiss. the image on your face is pure dizziness. acting like your fucked dumb while barely being fucked. he couldn’t wait to see you crumble.

you squirm under his touch, breath growing short and shaky, toji maintaining eye contact with you dangerously. he’s big on it, and it makes you shy, yet brave enough to endure it.

“you hear yourself, girl?” toji hisses, pecking your lips hard, his fingers coated with your slick the more he rubbed. you whine, arching your ass even closer to his hand. “you’re so needy for me, it’s cute.”

it’s ridiculous that you can’t even speak, him turning you into nothing but a whiny, whimpering sub. “you’re desperate for my touch, for my tongue.” he whispered, his voice growing even rougher as his own need grew.

“mmm, yes. need it so bad,” you pout, mouth gaping after he spanks your clit lightly. “fuck, please eat it, baby.”

“i will good girl.”

he didn’t hesitate for another second, sliding behind you with one knee pressed into the bed and his big hands holding you still, spreading your cheeks further apart and cussing under his breath from how fucking cute your pussy was. fat, and glistening in your juices, clit hiding between your folds giving him something to search for. “g’na fuckin’ kill me, angel. pretty fuckin’ pussy you got.”

you scoot up as much as you can, hands still bound behind your back, wanting to cry from the inability to move, but loving that he had you at his mercy. his hair covers his eyes and he’s submerged into you, pressing his mouth to your pussy in a sweet kiss, like he’s knocking politely, before running his thick, long tongue over you slowly. a groan resounded devilishly, toji lapping at your dripping clit, tongue hot and your toes can do nothing but curl.

he’s slow and deliberate, enjoying the sounds and reactions he was getting out of you as you writhed and quivered under his ministrations. your pussy and his mouth makes up the loudest voice in the room, so fucking sweet and wet he’s salivating over you. spanking you, taking his time to devour you as he swallows your cunt whole, tongue gliding from your clit all the way to your hole. occasionally dipping his tongue into you to fuck you like that. your eyes cross, a broken cry making him lose it.

“keep bouncing that ass back, baby. fuck, fuck my face, angel,” he’s hitting you again, and you can’t take it, shifting your thighs to roll your ass back onto his gorgeous face. you’re panting like an animal, jaw dropping as he keeps his mouth on your clit, sucking it hard and groaning into your cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine.

“oh . . god, oooh god,” the gasp in your throat became high pitched, toji licking you faster when he sees you giving your utmost effort. continuing his onslaught on your sensitive clit, swollen and satiating his taste buds. his fingers dug into your thighs, lowering himself completely to sit on his knees before you, rocking you back on his face as he eats it, unrelenting. sucking, licking, slurping, drowning his tongue inside of you . . . damn, it’s fucking good.

“c-cumming,” he can barely hear you as you stuff your face into the bed, toji’s head bouncing as you settle your feet on his shoulders and rock back on his face even quicker, groaning. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, babyyy.”

“mhm hmm,” he’s moaning into your pussy, kissing and tonguing you down until you finally burst, your hands in their constraint balling into fists, getting the chance to latch onto his black hair once he pushes you flat on your stomach to bury his face completely between your ass and thighs. “let it out, baby.”

his chin glistened from your juices, toji groaning the rougher you tugged at his scalp, dick jumping in his jeans he needed to unravel soon. when you cum, you do this thing where you squeal and gasp at once, and he swears it’s the cutest thing he’s ever fucking heard. lifting his face, he licks his lips proudly, wiping his chin and patting your ass to watch it shake in his palm. you were a lovely display beneath him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you.

he reached down and traced a finger along the length of your trembling leg, his dominant presence still overwhelming. he brings his hand to the back of your neck which you arched into his touch, his eyes darkening at your silent plea. “you want more?”

“nn, yea,” a breathless giggle falls from you, toji dragging you to sit at your knees by the grip on your neck and around your chest with his forearm, back hitting his chest again, and your eyes come into contact with the camera, almost forgetting it was there.

“show them what i did to your pussy, angel. let them see how perfect you are,” toji whispers, tapping at your knees to help you sit on your behind.

“okay,” the words are small again, because that’s how he makes you feel. once you sit, you raise your knees to your chest, toji lifting your babydoll to show your soft tummy and the pink lights from your vanity mirror glowing on the angles and curves of your body. you look like the finest art.

it’s liberating seeing yourself like this, a sense of relief washing over you when he begins to unloose the belt, humming elatedly and arching into him, your periwinkle painted toes twinkling in the air playfully. toji laughs at you, your hand coming to your cunt to cover it out of fake shyness, rolling to lay on your side and giggling to yourself. you really did know how to play a role, or maybe you’re just naturally silly.

toji unfastened his button before drifting his zipper down, thick thighs spread and arms bulky as he kept them in fists into the bed, tilting his head in your direction as he sat beside you, body taking up half the bed. you sit on your knees next to him, your hands running across his stomach and lifting up his shirt, toji licking his lips when your nails delicately scratch at his hips. you moan when his hand comes into contact with your hair, your nails digging into the broadness of his thigh.

as he guided your head down, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. you could smell the unique scent of masculinity wafting off of him. the feeling of his fingers running through your hair sent tingles down your spine, his touch tender and affectionate despite his dominating demeanor. your chest fluttered when his thumb touched your lower lip, your breath stuttering and your body quivering, a heat rising in your core all over. you felt the need for him grow stronger, pulling your lip downward. he shifted his fingers and tilted your chin up further, exposing your throat and neck to him. then he leans over, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head as his mouth latches onto your neck. pressing light kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue grazing out and your skin pricks with fire.

“can’t stop tasting you,” he grunts, his lips and tongue on your throat licking hard, driving you insane with need. his hand holding the back of your neck in a possessive manner, keeping you in place as his mouth explored your sensitive skin.

“toji. .” your voice is weak, feeling your inner thighs drown in a puddle of your arousal. “wanna suck it.”

“i’m sorry, what was that?” he hums.

“don’t tease,” you roll your eyes and pout.

“mhm,” he lets out a little grunt as his eyes rake over you, his breath catching slightly as he stares at you. he runs his hand down to your waist, gripping fervently. “so pretty,” he murmurs.

“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a strong rush of affection for him. “you’re so handsome,” you say, your voice low and tender.

“g’na give it a good kiss, baby? real good?” he hisses, your hand pulling at his jeans to sit lower on his sharp hips, letting his dick free and watching it with a watered mouth as it sat against his tummy. heavy, thick, two veins protruding on either side. you fucking knew he was big. bless your intuition.

“yes, want it,” you plead.

a low growl escaped his throat. “show me you want it then,” he purrs, his eyes growing darker with desire and his grip on your hip tightening.

the salivation in your mouth gave you just what you needed to do the job, widening your mouth to accommodate his size, drooling over his dick as you pull him in as deep as you could to start. half of him enclosed by the warmth of your mouth and instantly toji moans from the feel, your cheek sucking in while you guide your head up and down, keeping your hands to yourself, one on his thigh for balance. your eyes are closed to focus, humming and dragging your mouth slow to make him feel it all. toji catches himself knocking his head back, pulling the sheets between his fingertips and scrunching his brows together, stomach caving in.

he can hear you slurp and suck at him needily, moaning around him and riding the air with your ass, spit gliding down to the base of his dick as your tongue sticks out to drag along the under of his shaft, bobbing your head and licking at him. something about giving him head in specific felt intoxicating. maybe it’s the sounds he makes; guttural yet whiny. the desperation begs to tug at his throat, shifting his hips blindly and cussing under his breath. eventually, his fingers find their way back to your scalp, toji sitting up and entangling both hands into your hair, face curated in pleasure with eyes wired shut and a gaped jaw.

“shit, ꒰♡꒱. that’s fuckin’ good, doll,” toji grunts, your moans around him encompassing him to briefly detangle a hand to spank against your ass in clear indulgence. “damn.”

your hand couldn’t help but travel to touch him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick to stroke your hand according to the pace your mouth drags. that gravitational wave in his abdomen hit, a deep ‘your suckin’ it so good’ fleeing from his mouth followed by another harsh spank and a steady tug at your scalp to push you down only enough to follow your rhythm. when he hits the back of your throat, you force yourself to hold him there for a few seconds, purposely constricting your throat to hear him moan for you again, and again. his sounds addicting.

toji chuckles from how good you’re doing, raising your head to breathe before swallowing only the tip while stroking the remainder, your salvia being enough lubricant to quickly move your wrist. twisting and tugging while keeping it mostly on the head of his cock, the sensitive spot your toy to play with as you give teasing kitty licks, two hands covering him now.

picking your head up momentarily, you stare into his eyes with your siren ones, low and dangerous. pulling at his dick while you bite your lips before kissing him, mewling when he shoves his tongue into your mouth, pulling your body closer by your ass, the other grabbing the side of your face he practically swallowed into his own. the kiss is feverish, something straight out of a movie. he’s highly infatuated with you, tasting himself off of you with the mixture of yourself. toji sucks on your lower lip, and you find yourself positioning your thigh over his to sit and grind on his leg. you had enough of the foreplay, you needed him to fuck you.

“fuck me,” a whimper escapes, pressing your body down harder onto him, hand still stroking at him, that fucking voice of yours driving him mad. he doesn’t think he’ll last if you keep it up. “toji. . . toji.”

“stop begging,” he shuts it down quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he kicks them off exciting you. of course you couldn’t hide the smile, feening innocence as you pet at his jeans to help him remove them.

he's only in his black shirt now, your eyes following how his muscles swallowed the material, showcasing every sharp cut of his upper body. he made you dizzy, truly. that slit on the side of his mouth curving with his mouth as he smirks at you for getting lost in your cute little dream land.

“focus, love,” toji reels you back in, his hand on your lower back to arch your chest into his, dragging you to straddle him. if he could see the blush on your face he’d see that you were red as a tomato, his dick sitting right beneath you and you can’t help but shudder. “need you to lift your hips, help daddy out.”

“kay,” you nod like a damn bobble head, laying your hands on his shoulders and balancing yourself on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck for extra security. toji’s large arm his thrown around your waist to keep you locked to him, both of your body heat scorching.

he catches a hold of his dick, pumping it twice before he’s rubbing the fat tip against your drenched opening, collecting your flow before a soft gasp emits past your lips when you feel him gently enter, sinking you down carefully, little by little. the sensation from the stretch is . . like a fantasy. your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling as he removes his hand to balance the two of you on the bed, leaning back somewhat for your comfortability.

when you think he’s fully apart of you, that thought is knocked down the minute he utters, “c‘mon, girl. you gotta lot more to take.”

“oh my god,” the shock is out of, well, shock. he feels really good already, it’s gonna be hell if you handle any more. embedding your nails into his clothing, chin resting between the crook of his neck while you ground your ass back to make it easier for him to slip completely in. the two of you groan in sync, toji’s arm tightening around your waist from how tight you felt.

the more you rock, slow, steady, it fucks the both of you up. holding tightly onto one another while toji lets you take your time, the heavy breathing and hearts beating rapidly is fucking poetic. one might call this act making love. once you drop your ass entirely, that pressure in your sweet spot causes you to scream out softly, losing balance and sitting on your knees, holding onto him with an unexpected whine.

“shit, baby, you alright?” he’s immediately checking in on you, bringing you up and make eye contact, hands holding either side of your face and scanning for signs. pushing away the fact that you’re convulsing around his dick and trying his best not to fuck you hard. yet, at least.

again, you can’t even speak. your mouth is wide open, nodding and breathing heavily, shifting your hips and grind onto him, flexing your ass when you arch your back deeper before lifting halfway and slamming yourself down. toji chokes, face copying yours as he grips onto the sheets and places his arm back around you, helping you lift yourself.

“you feel . . really good, baby. stuffing me full,” you moan, toji grunting and yanking you up and down faster, losing his patience now. it blew out the fucking window the minute he slipped inside you. he fixates on the sound of your pussy sliding and swallowing his dick, the slick making his tongue water for the taste all over. you’re so fucking sweet it’s insane.

“yeah?” he lets out a low, guttural groan and grips your hips even harder, his breaths coming out in deep gasps. “fuck me like you fucked that toy, thinking of me.”

that makes you smile, that insecurity of him seeing that video earlier disappearing as you take both of your small hands and wrap them around his throat, using your weight to push his body so he falls onto his back, his hands cupping the curves under your ass cheeks. toji usually isn’t one for submission, but he’s been thinking for a while about trying new shit, and a pretty girl like you choking and fucking him was only the start. you see the look in his eyes, and you feel heat sweltering inside of you even more, relishing the fact that you are the one in control, applying more pressure to his neck, loving the way his breath hitches.

“you want me to fuck you just like that?” you lick your lips and grind teasingly, the dangerous swirl of your hips making his head sink further into the bed.

“want you to fuck me like that, angel. gimme a show.”

and you won’t deny his wish. positioning yourself back on the tips of your toes, his hands are smoothing underneath your thighs, clutching on either sides as you with his eyes going dark, his hips bucking. he can barely string a thought together, his mind completely consumed by the sensations you’re sending through him. your pussy takes it all while you pounce your body above him, rolling your waist each time you dip your ass down and meet his thighs.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes never leaving yours before his voice rasps out, “keep going. fuck me for real. like you want it. it’s yours.”

you let out a strangled gasp, body jerking and mind almost slipping away, the pleasure he’s giving you overwhelming and consuming you completely. his hands on your body clench harder, the warmth from his body on yours killing you.

“just like that,” his hands move at their own possession now, slamming down on your ass repeatedly to bruise your skin, the hits vibrating straight to your clit and it’s making you drunk. your eyes scroll back into your skull, his appraisal driving you to work for it faster.

“t-toji, i’m so wet for you,” you gasp in shock from the slickness between you two. “look what you did to me. you slide in and out so easily.”

“f-fuck, doll. you’re killing me talkin’ like that,” he lets out a strangled gasp at your words, voice ragged and eyes filled with need. “you like it that much, baby?”

“y-yes!” a squeal sounds from you, bouncing heavier than before, your voice getting caught in your throat from the impact. you clutch any part of his skin you can grab, losing yourself in the way he fills you. “i love your dick, baby. makes me feel prettier.”

hazy eyes filled with pleasure admire your features, fucked out already when he still has so much he wanted to do to you. give you what you deserve. a smirk tugs at his lips, sitting up and leaning in close, missing the skin contact. his voice low and rough as he says, “you look prettier when you’re sitting on my dick.”

“yeah,” you drunkenly nod. “s’mine.”

toji raises a brow with amusement. “it can be yours. when you cum on it real hard.”

wanting him even closer to you, you keep only one hand around his neck, placing the other on his forearm and pressing your chest to his entirely as you gyrate your hips and tease his neck, hovering over his skin with your mouth and teeth before you leave little love-bites on his skin. toji guides your hips in a circular motion, the simple switch up making you gasp and whine into his ear, hitting that spot repeatedly.

“god, baby,” you feel his guidance, his grip on your hips firm as he moves you. you ride against him, the friction on your clit making you whimper weakly, his deep voice in your ear making your body shake, feeling another orgasm develop. “i love it. s’fucking me so good.”

“see you movin’ just like you did for me on that mirror,” he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing firmly. your eyes lock, yours clouded by arousal, his with an agenda. “fuckin’ yourself like that . . ima fuck you real bad for that,” toji hissed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before aggressively smacking your ass. “i feel that fuckin’ pussy squeezing me tighter. if you’re g’na cum then do it on me. gush all on it.”

the more your body reacts to his praise, and sprinkles of degradation, the faster your orgasm approaches you, washing over you hard as your body spasmes from the intensity of it. your teeth sink into his shoulder as you scream, riding out your high, squeezing hard on his arms. toji kisses your temple, keeping you close as he falls back and lays on his side while turning you to face your camera you’d both forgotten about, still did.

“you did so well,” the kisses continue around your face while your brains on autopilot, his hand clasping around your neck as he presses his hot chest against your back. his kisses are so aggressive it makes you feel small and wanting to obey. you jump when he spanks you, moaning weakly into your shoulder with your arms halfway hanging off the bed.

toji goes lift your right leg to adjust himself behind you, dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, slipping back inside of you fully before angling your knee towards your tummy, keeping a hand locked under the bend of your knee, your skin smooth to the touch. you smell good too. everything about you besotted him. your hand touches his face, tugging it closer to the point where his nose smushed against your cheek, dark hair clouding your eyesight as his big frame overtakes yours.

“you’re gonna kill me,” you whisper, eyes focused on each other, a giggle creeping up.

“not you,” he whispered back, rolling his waist back and forth, grinding deeper into you. the plush of your ass molding against his sharp hips. his lips brush on your neck as he kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin. your hands roam over your body, touching and exploring every inch of yourself as his lips trail down your collarbone, darkly watching as your hand presses on your clit. “her.”

as he possessively holds you in place, he’s prepared you enough before he’s fucking you hard, knocking the wind from your throat completely. a hard gasp falls past your lips as toji slams his hips against your ass, knitting his brows together, squeezing his eyes shut while his mouth falls open. the utter silence both of your voices held at the moment was more powerful than the rough interaction of your skin. your eyes a ghost white as he pounds his dick into you hard. when a noise is made, it’s from equal parts, syncing your eager moans.

“ooh, fuck baby. you’re taking it,” he huskily whispers into your ear, his words punctuated by the way he continues to move into you. “sucking me so deep. m’not going nowhere.”

“to-ji,” his name is broken down by the harsh pounds he fucks you with, whining and moaning in his entrapment. your vision gone. “i love the way you fuck me. you fuck me so good.”

he fucks like he’s not letting up, his body pushing you deeper into the mattress, the grip around your neck remains tight, the feeling of his ownership only growing more intense. his body is hovering over yours now, digging deep as he can to fuck you real good, to make himself feel it all. your body remains to the side, only half twisted as he drops your leg and pushes his weight into you so your stomach is close to grazing the bed.

“s’too much, fuck . . i, i—” the words are caught in your throat from the overstimulation. breathing heavy, tears begin to fill your sockets, whining his name loudly in his face like you’d lost your mind for good this time. this pleasure was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s everything you needed and more.

toji shushes you, kissing your nose as he grips your face, big hand almost covering it whole. “you like when daddy takes control? you like when he tells you what to do?”

toji will admit, you’ve got him fucking spent. it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman submit and cry under him, and you do all those things well. the gorgeous image on your face, to the salacious movement of your body. the softness of your skin and the equal relation of your voice. capturing and captivating him. you’d think he was on drugs the way he was talking. high off his ass from your pussy. his lips gently brush over your ear. your eyes flutter, his voice attacking your clit, and you swear it makes it gush even more, soaking the sheets underneath your ass. “when he makes you his? you like being my good girl, pretty?”

he knows you can’t speak anymore, but you’re still interactive with your body language. the slur of your nonexistent words to the way you try to roll your ass back to fuck him back . . but he’s got you trapped. even the tears falling down your face from overwhelming pleasure. he knows you’re okay, asking for a safe word prior for your protection. you’re a big girl, he knows you can handle it.

“nnng,” you can’t stop trembling, gasping for air and sobbing in his face. toji places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes and nodding, cooing. you are fucked dumbed. toji hisses, hitting your ass and pausing momentarily to look between where you two collide, an ‘oh my god’ faltering out. he’s as gone as you are.

“you so fuckin’ creamy, girl,” toji drags out a frustrated hum, getting annoyed by how good your pussy is. you’re going to become a problem.

“please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying it for. do you need him to stop, do you want more, or are you just completely fucked out you’re saying anything that’s coming to your head? that butterfly feeling is back in your stomach, as well as a foreign one near your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “toji, m’ g’na c-cummm. oh my god, babyy.”

your hiccups and sobs only urge him to fuck you even harder, loving how the breath literally jumps out of your throat in shock.

“cryin’ on this dick. fuck, you got me going crazy,” he really doesn’t want to cum yet, he needed to fuck you in every way imaginable. but he knows you need a break, to breathe for sure. he wanted to edge himself so that when he finally came, it’d be the best fucking orgasm of his life. your moans are clawing at his soul, so filthy and dulcet. you’re making it really fucking difficult to obtain that.

toji finds himself slamming his palm over your mouth to bury them in a way, but you’re so damn loud it’s getting to him. ‘fuck fuck fuck’ he’s cussing repeatedly in a whispered hush as he fucks you as hard he possibly can. his hand doesn’t even work, because you’re consuming him wholly and the minute he feels that build up, he pulls out to cum and you’ve drenched the sheets as you squirt. an almost blood curdling scream surrounds the room, your body rapidly trembling as your mouth falls open in utter shock, gasping, whining, whimpering, moaning his fucking name while he moaned yours. toji nutting up the entire side of your body, wrist twisting as he holds you body still, mouth drawn open.

his hand reaches over to unclamp your legs, heavy hand rubbing your pussy to stimulate you further, your back arching and head sinking into your pillow, crying out. he watches your hand flail to grip his wrist as your wetness continues to spurt out of you like water.

“strawberry!” toji listens to you weep, choking on your cries and pleads. finally having enough.

“holy s-shit,” you’re laughing while also trying to catch your breath, not believing that just happened. he can tell by the shock in your face that you’ve never had it happen before, or that much.

“damn,” he laughs along with you, smacking your outer thigh before smashing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, gliding your tongues together while his hands massaged every part of your body after allowing you to lay on your back. caressing and soothing you to calm you down. “gonna grab a rag.”

you pout when he goes to stand, already missing the disconnect as you lay empty on your . . messy bed. absolutely disgusting you two, hawk puth! one things for sure, you can’t keep that wide ass smile off your face. he comes back into the room, one of your pink towels wrapped around his midsection covering up that demon of a dick he carried. toji smirks down at you, grabbing your ankle and tugging you down to the edge of the bed before he’s taking a warm rag that smelt of your dove beauty bar to wipe what he painted on you. you swallow your lower lip into your mouth, watching with hooded eyes as he drags the rag sensually along ever part of your skin. you flinch when it comes to contact with your cunt, toji kissing your inner thigh with a ‘sorry’. he admires the curves of your body even more, kissing your ankle adorned with a silver anklet after he finishes.

“how you feeling?” he asks.

“i’m more than perfect.”

he hums. “you’re something else.”

“i was good?” you ask seriously, batting your lashes shyly.

toji stares at you as if you’re deadass. “don’t do that. you know you were. you didn’t hear me? i fuck you deaf?”

that makes you roll your eyes, but not before giggling. “hate you.”

“you won’t after i tell you i got chinese in the kitchen,” he winks, the light in your eyes making his heart swell. “c’mon, sexy.”

you sit up, gasping. “i knew i fucking smelt that shit when you came in. i thought it was outside!”

“nah, i realized i didn’t eat shit at the restaurant earlier so i decided to get us both something. did you even eat your salad?”

“i did, had to after you dropped a whole hundred,” you shake your head. “how’d you know i liked chinese?”

toji blinks. “baby, we literally talked half of this week. for hours. i have good memory.”

that slip of a nickname outside of sex warmed your chest, burying your face in your hair to hide your shyness. “you’re right.”

“don’t hide now, i’ve seen it all,” he chuckles, tickling the bottom of your foot.

“oh, whatever!” you chuck one of your plushies at him, half of them had fallen to the floor. toji gets up to grab your robe he saw hanging on the bathroom door, draping it around you as you stood.

he kisses your forehead and you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, screeching when he hit and gripped your ass, the two of you forgetting about the livestream altogether as you warmed up the food, poured a glass of wine and reminisced about what just happened.

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