#you guys have no idea how much I love the concept of this dynamic
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I can finally say it
Adribugnoire / Turbo Ladrien rights
Ft. sketches from a while back that I may clean up later 🌞❤️🐞🐈
#helix draws#ml spoilers#miraculous ladybug#ladrien#adribugnoire#turbo ladrien#ml season 5 finale#ml re-creation#kissy boo#you guys have no idea how much I love the concept of this dynamic#I was hesitant to put these online but my friends got the better of me sjgkslg
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ngl i kinda wish ganglot had a friend/friends who would have a dynamic w her like bill and ted + the grim reaper
#its a good dynamic! im writing a bit of heroesverse and i crave this#the closest would maybe be kukko but hes such a sofboi#maybe el? itd honestly be hilarious if kukko and el are both her buds and tormentors#like omg. she should lighten up. but i get why she doesnt bc everyone is horrible#but shes a cool grim reaper and i dig her. also maybe another idea would be the reaper in that woo parody thing bc that was cool too#gameblogging#insert comment abt how both ganglot and eitr become major players and i didnt intend to like them/initially like them#i love the archetype of 'serious guy w rivalry and the other guy is just a regular guy and doesnt care' and imo its a good twist on it#where the stubborn rival actually gets /killed/ by the 'regular guy' bc they take things too far/the regular guy has a not so nice side#it reminds me a little of jojo lol#and idk. eitr is cool too bc shes the archetype of 'horrible villain but you have an option to save them before they turn into an asshole'#its an interesting concept but usually i like villains too much LOL#or theyre just unsympathetic from start to end also lol#honestly unlikely but itd be super swag if we got a cool member of the curse directive for b5's story#i have /no/ hope for 5 (sorry i meant 6 before). like its gonna be bad i know it#but maybe faf and/or fallen faf would be good so /pray hands#i need the former for spack backstory. (side note fallen faf+ dlc horty would be great. i want them this yr but id settle for next yr)#(dream banner would be dead ursula fallen faf and dlc horty. but idk if thats even likely lol.)#oh and gunter too bc hes worth it (maybe revels the parents also? but their base forms are cool too)
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nasty habits | park jisung
pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader
genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end
summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?
wc: 20k+
warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.
your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.
but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.
and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.
after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.
it started on a whim, born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and suddenly, you were kind of a big deal on the platform.
granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure, the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college, entirely out of pocket.
you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.
“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.
“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”
“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink
“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.
“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.
“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.
“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”
“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.
you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.
“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”
“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.
“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”
you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.
“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”
“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.
“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.
you raised a brow. “unless what?”
“haechan.”
you frowned. “what about him?”
“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.
“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.
“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”
“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.
“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.
karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”
you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”
“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.
“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.
“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”
giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.
“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.
karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”
before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.
“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.
giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”
“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.
“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.
once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.
“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.
giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”
“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.
karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.
“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”
giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”
haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.
“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.
“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.
“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.
“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”
haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.
you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”
“eh… like a seven. why?”
“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”
his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”
you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”
giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”
haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”
you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.
“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.
haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”
giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”
haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”
“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.
“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”
haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”
groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.
“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.
“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.
“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”
“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”
“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.
“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.
“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”
“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.
“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”
“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”
“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”
“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.
he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”
“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”
“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.
“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.
“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.
“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”
“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”
“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.
“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.
“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”
“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”
haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”
“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.
“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”
giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”
“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”
“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”
“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”
“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”
you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”
haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.
“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”
“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”
karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”
giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”
you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.
the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.
“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”
“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”
“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”
“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”
he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.
“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”
his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.
“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.
karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”
“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”
“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”
“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”
you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”
“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.
“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”
“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.
“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”
“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”
karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”
“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”
karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”
“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”
karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”
“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”
“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”
“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”
haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”
“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”
“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.
“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”
“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”
“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.
“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.
“okay, fine. let’s go home.”
“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.
“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.
you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.
“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.
but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.
suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.
“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.
“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.
“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”
you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.
karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”
giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”
when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”
“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.
“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”
“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.
giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”
you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”
“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”
“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.
karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”
“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”
“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”
“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”
giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”
“boo!”
haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.
“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.
“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.
you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.
“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.
“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”
giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”
“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”
“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.
“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”
your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.
you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:
you’d already interacted with him before.
not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.
you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.
“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.
you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”
“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.
jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.
you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”
“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.
“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”
“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”
“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.
“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.
“can i come?” haechan asked.
you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.
your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.
the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.
the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.
at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.
“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.
you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.
“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”
you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.
“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”
the messages came in rapid-fire:
“omg collette’s back!”
“you look stunning as always.”
“been waiting for this for weeks!”
you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”
the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.
“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”
you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”
the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.
you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”
a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”
you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.
“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.
he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.
“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.
almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.
the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.
“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.
“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”
“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”
your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.
you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.
as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”
his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.
he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.
“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered
in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.
“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.
it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.
“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.
this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.
he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.
of course, none of that happened.
you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.
you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.
after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.
on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.
on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.
you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.
you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.
“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”
his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.
“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”
he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.
you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.
you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.
“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.
you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.
you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.
“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.
behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.
jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.
normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.
but you weren’t like them.
he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.
since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.
it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.
and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.
he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.
his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.
“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.
jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.
“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.
jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.
she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.
when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.
stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.
but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.
his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.
when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.
how am i supposed to survive this?
jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.
she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.
and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.
and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.
he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.
so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.
not that jisung cared, of course.
but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.
today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.
he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.
but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.
you were there.
your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.
he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.
his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?
you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.
“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”
you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.
“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”
he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.
“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”
“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”
jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.
“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”
you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.
“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”
you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.
he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.
but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.
he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.
but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.
you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.
“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.
“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”
you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”
jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.
“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”
you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.
he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.
“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”
jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.
“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”
his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.
“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”
he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.
as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.
he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.
you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.
when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.
he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.
you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.
and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.
by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.
you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.
jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.
why does that look so familiar?
he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.
and then it hit him.
his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.
holy shit.
jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.
he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.
“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.
he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.
he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.
sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.
you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.
his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.
but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.
you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.
the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.
you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.
you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.
“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.
he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.
you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.
his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.
“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.
his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.
“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.
you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.
“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”
he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.
“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.
jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.
“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”
he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.
as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.
when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?
jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.
since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.
“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.
“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.
“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”
“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that
but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.
as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.
you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.
jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.
focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.
“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.
you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”
“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”
you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”
“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.
he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.
“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.
“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.
“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”
“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.
you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”
“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.
but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”
jisung froze. fuck.
his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?
“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”
he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.
“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.
jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.
he needed to take care of this. now.
standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.
he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.
“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”
“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”
he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.
“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”
your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.
jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?
“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”
before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”
his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.
sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.
“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.
sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.
jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.
“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”
you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.
“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”
jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”
your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”
but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”
jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”
sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”
“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”
you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.
“listen here, you little shi—”
“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”
sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”
jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.
as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.
“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”
jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”
“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.
jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”
you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.
“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.
you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”
“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”
he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.
you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.
but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.
“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.
“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”
“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.
you laughed. “are you serious right now?”
“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”
he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.
what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.
“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.
jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”
“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.
he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”
“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”
“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”
“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”
his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.
“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.
he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.
he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.
you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”
jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.
“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”
his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”
“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”
you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”
jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.
“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.
“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.
jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.
you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”
he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.
“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”
he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.
“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”
jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.
“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.
jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.
“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.
when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.
and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.
“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.
jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.
“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”
jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”
“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”
“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”
“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.
“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”
jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.
“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”
jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?
“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”
“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”
jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”
“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.
jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”
“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”
your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”
jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.
“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”
you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.
his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.
“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.
“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”
“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”
jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.
“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.
“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.
“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.
“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.
you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”
“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”
“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.
“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.
“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”
“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.
jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.
“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.
“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.
you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”
“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.
“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.
before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.
“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.
jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.
“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”
“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”
jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.
“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.
you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.
that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.
the sound of retching woke him up.
he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.
“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”
“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.
“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”
jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.
“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”
jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.
his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.
before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.
“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”
jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”
“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”
his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.
“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.
“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.
his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?
he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.
“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.
“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”
with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.
he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.
when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.
the door swung open after his third knock.
there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.
"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.
but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.
“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.
“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.
“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.
jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.
"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."
"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.
“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.
"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"
your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.
"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.
jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.
"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.
"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.
"would you like to guest on my channel?"
jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”
he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."
you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."
jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?
“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.
jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?
but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.
with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."
“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.
but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.
you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.
“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.
he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”
you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”
your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.
your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”
he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.
you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.
you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.
“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.
“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.
“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”
his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.
“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.
“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.
his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.
“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”
the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.
“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”
the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.
before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.
your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.
“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.
“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”
“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.
he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.
“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.
jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.
you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.
“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.
“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.
“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.
jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.
you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.
“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”
the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.
“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.
“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”
the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.
jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.
“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.
his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.
you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.
“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”
his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.
you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.
“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.
“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”
your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.
“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.
his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.
“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.
your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.
you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.
“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.
“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”
you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”
he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.
“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.
“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.
“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.
his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.
just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.
a condom.
jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.
“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.
goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.
“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.
“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.
jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.
“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.
“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.
the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.
it fit perfectly.
“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.
jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.
“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.
jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.
you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.
"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.
he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.
“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.
“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.
“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”
you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.
"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."
jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.
when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.
"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.
you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”
you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.
“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”
his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.
"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.
jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.
you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.
“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.
you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.
“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.
jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.
“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”
the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.
his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.
“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.
jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”
you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”
he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”
the next day...
“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.
“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”
jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.
“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.
a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.
earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.
jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.
“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.
he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.
the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.
and he was succeeding.
your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.
he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.
you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”
his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.
jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.
a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3
#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct smut#nct dream fic#nct dream smut#nct#park jisung#jisung x reader#nct jisung#jisung smut#jisung x you#nct fic#nct moodboard#jisung imagines#nct dream x you#nct dream
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do you believe me now? | 10
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader manage to discuss the direction of their physical relationship between makeouts. reader isn't feeling comfortable at her apartment, so they plan their first trip together.
series masterlist
this fic is 18+ warnings/tags: d/s dynamics but not smutty, softdom!spencer/sub reader, mild pda?, hint at switch!spencer, they talk about sex/how r feels about her first time, making out, r has long hair, almost dry humping if you're standing several miles away, unresolved sexual tension, teasing/flirting. don't like? don't read a/n: yayyyyy hi guys!! no idea when part 11 will be out. I missed them. I love them so bad. they are my favorite ever. they are so special to me 4ever. hope u missed them and ur just as happy to see them happy as I am :")
“Do you like eyelet?” Spencer asks, reaching up to grab a set of sheets you couldn’t. He insists that you let him get everything from the top shelf because it’s been handled less.
You shrug, distracted by the angle of his jaw and the line of his throat as he retrieves the plastic package.
It’s Sunday. Three nights in a row spent with him—the longest sleepover streak thus far—and you don’t want to go back to sleeping alone tonight. But you know it’s time. Both of you have things to attend to tomorrow, and you’re not exactly in the habit of getting things done when you’re together. All weekend you’ve lounged in his lap on the couch or tangled yourself in his arms in bed—fully clothed, of course. Spencer had suggested the no-sex rule on Friday, and you’re glad for it. You feel no pressure to be doing more when he’s kissing you or holding you.
Of course, the concept of having sex again crosses your mind—when you’re washing your face and catch a glimpse of the bruises on your neck in the mirror, or when the tips of Spencer’s fingers trace idly over a span of exposed skin on your lower back as you watch a movie on the couch and you’re struck with desire, or you move just right and feel a tiny lingering twinge of soreness. There was a time when if you had Spencer Reid to yourself for three nights, a Navy SEAL wouldn’t have been able to pull you off of him. Now, when you think about the fact that there will be a second time, you get that butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling—but you’re not sure if it’s good or apprehensive.
Either way, it’d be too much right now.
You do miss feeling that kind of closeness with him. That intimacy. It can’t be replicated, no matter how many naps you take together. Probably something to do with brain chemicals and hormones. He could explain it all, if you were brave enough to ask.
So you know it’d be too much… but it’s not that you don’t want it. There is also, of course, the issue of the way he looks. It’s not helping your cognition. It’s not encouraging you to make good choices.
You’re not supposed to be thinking about sex. You’re supposed to tell him if you like eyelet.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Spencer gives you an exasperated look and sighs. He’s wearing his glasses today. His hair is freshly washed and fluffy. The navy blue sweater he’s wearing is about the only step between a button down and pajamas for him, and he looks good in casual clothing. You chew your lip.
He doesn’t notice your ogling. “You’ve said that about everything.”
“I’m really not that passionate about the fabric of my sheets,” you defend, shoulders rising and dropping.
“Surely you like some of them less and some of them more. Usually you jump at the chance to express an opinion.”
Okay. Uncalled for.
He’s obviously kidding. You overreact anyway.
“You suck,” you mumble, brushing past him in search of something suitable for your bed.
Spencer processes this for a moment and then trails after you down the aisle.
“I suck?”
“Here, look. Bamboo. That’s good, right?”
Your boyfriend glances at the package you’ve selected, probably holding back a whole host of facts about bamboo farming in China.
“It’s fine. Why do I suck?”
“Because you implied I’m opinionated.”
“I didn’t imply it. It was an explicit statement.”You groan petulantly and put the sheets back on the shelf with force. Spencer picks them up and follows you deeper into the store. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” you huff, turning around to face him once you’re safely sequestered in a new aisle. The store’s not busy—an elderly couple roams for fake fruit and towels, humming vacantly to the Muzak, and a single mom wrangles her kids in a cart. Back here, it’s just the two of you. “Not really.”
“Then what did?” He asks gently, stepping closer. Spencer’s not overly-affectionate in public, but the tone of his voice, the way he’s looking at you like he can see your thoughts, feels intimate.
You’re helpless when he gets like this, and he probably knows it. It’s an abuse of power and when you can think straight again you’ll have to scold him for it.
“It doesn’t even matter. You’re just gonna drop me off after this anyway.”
He tilts his head like a curious puppy, eyes alight with a good puzzle as he quickly strings together the facts in his head.
“Is that it?”
You frown and hesitate, eyes catching on a loose thread at the hem of his sweater.
“… No.”
“Yeah, it is. You’re upset because I’m taking you home.”
You scramble to deny. “That’s not it.”
“I think it is,” he murmurs, a smile playing at the corners of his perfect mouth.
You study the waxen floor tiles intently.
“Well… I mean, would that be weird? You’re gonna miss me too, right?”
You sound unsure—insecure, even. When you look back up at him, his eyes are melted chocolate, even under the fluorescents. He glances down at your mouth briefly and then over your shoulder.
Pleasekissmepleasekissmepleasekissme.
He doesn’t, but you can tell he really wants to, which is almost as good.
“Of course, I’m going to miss you. But we’ll see each other soon. Probably tomorrow.”
“Unless you get called out on a case. But it’s not even really that. It’s just—how am I supposed to… I don’t know! We just spent three nights together. How am I supposed to go back to sleeping alone for a whole week?”
Maybe you’re too attached to him now, because acknowledging the thought which has been lurking all morning opens the floodgates that were holding back a sea of dread, and you feel it in every inch of your body. Five nights alone stretch out before you like an infinite, impassable forest. Friday is an eternity away, and there’s no guarantee he’ll even be here Friday night, if the team gets a case.
Spencer somehow regards you with both curiosity and innate wisdom, like you’re a new specimen in a familiar field, for a long enough moment that your cheeks begin to warm.
“Sorry, that was embarrassing. I’m being weird, it’s fine—”
Just as you go to walk away, he pulls you carefully back in by the wrist, even closer than before.
“No. You’re sweet,” he murmurs, hand warm even through the knit of your sleeve. Gingerly you look back up at him.
“But you’re not gonna miss me as much as I miss you.”
“Do not undermine my capacity for yearning. I missed you when you were brushing your teeth this morning.”
“Ooh. So clingy,” you tease, though you’re obviously delighted by the information, and he borderline pouts.
“Don’t say that. Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” you laugh as he pulls you to his chest, keeping you there with a hand to your back.
“Okay. Now say you love me.”
For a moment you’re distracted by the proximity, the lowering of his voice as he brings you into his space and your faces are only inches apart. The smell of his body wash coming from both of you.
“I love you,” you breathe, and it’s not as teasing as you’d meant for it to be as his eyes dart to your lips.
Even though you’re bossy, is what you don’t say.
This seems to please him, because finally, he’s tilting his head down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. It’s still enough to make you lightheaded.
“Apology accepted. I love you too,” he murmurs. And then he’s pulling back, trying to walk around you. “Do you wanna stop for coffee on the way back to yours?”
“Wait,” you order, suddenly listless and disoriented in the middle of the aisle. “You’re not gonna…”
Spencer frowns back at you.
“I’m not gonna what?”
“You’re not gonna… say it?”
“… I love you? I did say that.”
“No, there’s—usually when I do stuff you ask me to do, you say—”
Only when the first ray of understanding illuminates his face do you realize you actually shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“Nevermind. Yeah, let’s just go.”
Spencer catches your arm again as you attempt to walk past him, laughing quietly as he leans down to speak in your ear.
“I am not calling you good girl in the small decorative statues aisle.”
“What if we go back to the bedding aisle?” You ask, through the warmth of your own cheeks.
It’s sort of a joke.
“Remember what I said about appropriate context?”
“All those sheets, and duvet covers, and stuff. It’s basically the same.”
When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to tear your eyes from a little robot statue and look at him. Eyes ever-so-slightly narrowed, warmed only by a hint of humor. A barely detectable curve of the mouth.
Oops. With all your blind-button pushing, you might’ve accidentally tapped the one responsible for all the marks on your neck—the one that makes him tick in a way which usually ends with you underneath him.
And then, for the first time, you actually watch as he pushes it down—activates some sort of self-cooling system. Probably he understands that whether you meant to be provocative or not, this interaction isn’t headed in a salacious direction. Even if you weren’t in public, the rule is holding fast.
His hand slides from your arm to intertwine with your fingers.
“What are you doing next week?”
You blink at the sudden change in subject and tone.
“Uh… I don’t know. Working, probably.”
“From home?”
“Yeah. Why?”
He chews his lip thoughtfully.
“I… still have a few days of annual leave that I need to use. I don’t know if this is… this might be too much, and you can say no. But Rossi has a place in Shenandoah. It’s a cabin—it’s, it’s really nice, I’ve seen pictures. He used to use it for hunting, I guess now he rents it out in the summer and fall but it’s empty during the off-season and he’s always offering it to the team. It’s only like, an hour away. An hour and nine minutes actually, if you take the 66 Express outside the Beltway from Arlington. I looked it up, um… semi-recently. I’m sure he’d let us use it, if you wanted to come burn four days of leave with me. No pressure. Of any kind. I could also, just, y’know, stay home, and we could still spend time together that way. We could finish Deep Space Nine. Or watch something else. Or watch nothing. Whatever you’d like to do.”
Your heart rate has been increasing steadily since he started his impromptu speech—you’re glad he seems nervous inviting you. You’re a little nervous accepting. A trip together is definitely a new step. But getting the hell out of dodge with him for a few days sounds wonderful.
“I’d love to go,” you say earnestly.
Spencer’s face goes blank for a second, and then his eyebrows raise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes.
“Oh. Oh! Great! Okay, I’ll—I’ll talk to Rossi about it tomorrow.”
He remains highly chipper as he hands his card over to the cashier for your new overpriced bamboo sheets.
The promise of getting Spencer to yourself for four consecutive days and nights is the only way you’re able to fall asleep to a cold bed that night.
It’s harder, at home now—you’re self-conscious of every and any noise. Music, cooking, talking on the phone.
It doesn’t make sense, because you know you can’t hear your neighbors, so they shouldn’t be able to hear you, and Jerry’s a creep, who might’ve made the whole thing up just to get under your skin—but it’s all you can think about, when you’re there.
Monday evening, Spencer comes to visit, as promised. You undo all the locks and open the door just enough for him to slip through.
He kisses you hello as you close the door and sets his things down at the table while you relock.
“No Jerry today?”
“Nope. I haven’t seen him since Friday.”
“Good,” Spencer says only once you turn, a distinct chill to his tone and a mostly unfamiliar frigidity to his eyes. It’s not directed at you, but it’s unnerving nonetheless, so you draw closer and wrap your arms around his waist—hoping to melt him back into your Spencer.
He reciprocates, speaks softer now that he has you in his arms, and immediately you feel better.
“Rossi said yes to us staying at the cabin and Emily said I can take the time off. Did you still wanna go?”
You’re pre-occupied with your face buried in his shirt, so you just nod, basking in the scent of his shower products once more. They’ve gone from simply comforting to intoxicating.
“Is everything okay?” He asks quietly, brushing your hair over your shoulder. His fingers barely glance off your neck and you almost shiver. Want begins to pool deep and warm in your stomach as you lift your head and he looks down at you, so fondly.
Want which you can’t afford to feel if you’re not willing to act on it.
“I’m fine,” you breathe. Fuck. He’s too close. He’s too hot. You pull away and move to the kitchen. “Um, dinner. What do you want? We could make something. Or order something. I don’t have much, honestly.”
“I’ll be happy with anything. You sure you’re alright?”
“I don’t want to have sex!”
The words simply explode out of you, like a bat out of hell as you whip around. Just barely you manage not to clap a hand over your mouth in mortification.
You stand, back to the fridge, watching Spencer nervously for his reaction.
His brow knits. His lips part and close again several times.
You’re wondering what the fastest and most convenient method of not being alive anymore would be when he finally answers.
“… Okay. I wasn’t trying to initiate anything, did I—did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No! No, I’m sorry. I just… I wanted you to know that while I’m still, like, figuring things out—like, with my neighbor and everything—it’s just a lot, so… so I know this past weekend we agreed to not do anything and I think it would be best to… keep not doing anything. Just for now. I shouldn’t have said it like that—I didn’t actually… mean to say it. I was gonna, um, find a way to bring it up more delicately.”
You clear your throat and look down to study the patterned tile, cheeks burning.
By way of several nervous glances up at him and back down, you watch Spencer silently come to lean against the counter across from you, arms crossed over his chest.
“Okay. Thank you for telling me. We’re not ever going to do anything you don’t want to do. But, out of curiosity… is this just because of your neighbor? Or because you maybe don’t feel ready yet?”
He’s asking gently, because he wants to know, and you know there’s no wrong answer. It’s still nerve-racking.
“Um… like, a combination of the two, I guess. Mostly… the neighbor. I think. But I’m telling you this because…” and here comes the worst part. “I need you… to… hold me accountable.”
“For what?” He asks plainly, but you know what he sounds like when perfectly suppressing a smile. The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your face as you close your eyes and forge ahead in the name of open and honest communication—something the two of you are trying to work on.
“If I… come on to you… you have to turn me down.”
This is not getting any less embarrassing.
“Should I anticipate you coming onto me?”
“Probably,” you sigh, looking at him through your lashes and bringing your hands to your cheeks, hoping maybe they’ll cool you down and poor circulation will work in your favor for once. “I know myself. You know me. I like… asking you for things. But for the rest of the week, if I do… you know, want something from you—you have to tell me no.”
Spencer nods slowly. “What if you genuinely change your mind?”
“I won’t. I might think I have, I might even tell you I have, but don’t believe me, okay? I don’t think straight when I’m turned on, and if we do anything, I’ll like it until fucking Jerry is pounding my door down the next day, and I just can’t deal with that.”
Spencer’s face goes completely void of expression to the point that if it weren’t for context clues you’d have no idea he’s probably imagining pistol-whipping the guy.
“Has he knocked on your door?”
Testosterone.
“No. Back to my point. I’m trusting you to keep me in check so I don’t do anything I’ll… I’ll end up regretting. Not that I regret the other night!” You scramble just as Spencer’s brow begins to furrow. “I don’t. I just regret that my gross neighbor had to get involved. And I don’t want that to happen again. So… is that… is that okay? Will you do that for me?”
“Of course I will,” Spencer says gently, without hesitation as he pushes off the counter. “Can I ask a follow-up question?”
You nod and regard the space between you, unsure if you want to eliminate it or keep using it like a buffer. By not coming to you, he’s giving you the choice.
“You said this was mostly because of your neighbor. But you didn’t sound sure. It’s fine if you aren’t feeling ready yet. I just want to make sure I know what’s going on with you.”
“I don’t really know,” you admit, after a brief pause. “I feel like… as long as I know he’s on the other side of the wall I wouldn’t even be able to wrap my head around how I actually feel. It’s also confusing because, like I was saying, I… just because I feel like I want something in the moment, doesn’t necessarily mean I’m actually ready for it, you know? I don’t even know if… I don’t even know what being ready again really means or would look like.”
“You did the other night.”
“Yeah, but that was different. Because now I’m gonna think I know what I’m getting myself into, but that’s not necessarily true.”
Another pause in which you chew your lip and look away.
“I don’t want you to overthink it, honey. I think being ready just means you’re comfortable, and you’re with someone who’s going to keep you safe, and nobody’s pressuring you, and you’re not, you know—pressuring yourself. Wanting it is actually really important, too. But what I’m hearing right now is that even if you might want it, you’re not in a place that feels safe. And that makes sense to me. So we’re just not gonna do anything until that changes, okay?”
Eyes still cast downward, your lips twist into a sardonic little smile.
“I feel like I’m talking to my therapist.”
He laughs with a single breath.
“I really hope your therapist doesn’t speak to you like I do. The ethics there would be highly questionable.”
The joke refreshes your courage and you look back up at him, smile still edged with humor but mostly unspoken gratitude.
The half-smile on Spencer’s face, however, is fading steadily as he studies you in flickering passes. Like there’s something still on his mind. You were hoping for a subtle invitation back into his arms, but the space between you remains—infused now with a tension as it becomes increasingly obvious.
“Also… this trip we’re going on. I feel like I should say this—I don’t know if it was even on your mind, but… I don’t want you to feel pressured to have sex just because of the timing. Me inviting you on a last-minute trip to an isolated cabin—it’s not a master plan to get you to sleep with me again, I promise. I really just wanted us to be alone. Not—not that kind of alone—I mean, we’ll be alone, but it doesn’t have to be like that. I was just thinking about how nice it was for us to get those three nights together, you know, and the whole weekend too, and with my job, that’s not always going to happen, so it just seemed like a good opportunity—”
“Spencer,” you laugh, letting the tension snap like a rubber band as you go to him, slinging your arms over his shoulders, delighted to be the one doing the interrupting and not the flustered rambling, for a change. “I know you don’t have an ulterior motive. As for what kind of alone we’re going to be… we’ll figure that out, okay? Don’t worry about me. I don’t feel pressured by you. I never have. If anything, I’m the one who pressures you for sex.”
You’ve got him smiling once more, as his hands find your waist and his gaze flips from your mouth to your eyes and back again. It goes very subtly mischievous in a way you don’t quite trust, but he’s dipping his head to kiss you, and something tells you it’s going to be a good one, so when your nose bumps against his, and you can feel his breath on your lips, you’re not at all prepared for him to speak.
“Begging is not the same as pressuring, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and then he’s kissing you so thoroughly you don’t even have time to be properly affronted. The offended gasp gets stuck in your throat, and melts into a tiny huff as it turns out the kiss is a very good one. You can’t think hard enough to be offended. Not even when he chuckles against you.
“That’s not fair,” you mumble when he allows you a second to breathe. He hums, satisfying himself with kisses to your cheek and playing along.
“What’s not fair?”
“You… I was supposed to have the upper hand in that situation! You were the nervous one for once!”
Another hum, buzzing against your lips this time.
“You have to learn how to take the upper hand, angel. I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a big part of my job.”
Admittedly it’s hard to think when he talks like this, but you try.
“So… you manipulate me? That’s not very romantic.”
He laughs quietly again.
“No. I do not manipulate you.”
“You’re just a control freak,” you tease.
“Yeah,” he agrees, immediately, still soft-spoken as he pulls back to carefully search your eyes. “Does that bother you?”
You search hands and knees for a crumb of outrage, for a hint of any of that strong feminist theory you’ve instilled into your brain over so many years.
There’s nothing to be found.
“No,” you admit, dejectedly, hanging your head as much as he’ll allow. “Should it?”
“Only if you don’t like it. When I take the upper hand like that, I’m really just… posing a yes or no question. So far, you lean towards saying yes. You let me win. But you don’t have to.”
“What happens if I… if I don’t let you win?”
He angles his head, coaxing you to look in his eyes once more. A hand comes up to swipe a dot of mascara from under your brow. He’s looking at you so serenely, like none of this is at all complicated.
“Whatever you want. I wouldn’t be the one making the rules anymore.”
Oh.
Oh.
You laugh nervously.
“That’s a lot of pressure. What if… I want you to keep making the rules? For forever?”
He kisses you again, insistently enough you have to tilt your head back. When he answers, it’s low, a promise, and pressed right against your waiting mouth.
“Then I will.”
You loose a tremulous breath from your parted lips and you know he can feel it. He can feel how you’re clinging to his shirt, pressing yourself closer, how your skin has warmed and your breaths have hastened, he can probably taste how much you want him, how you’re already thinking about giving it all up for him—
And maybe that’s why he laughs dryly into your mouth before pulling away.
Because he’s a good boyfriend.
Spencer knits his brow and clears his throat as his hand slides down your arm, eyes narrowed like he’s wondering how things escalated so quickly. You certainly are.
Suddenly he’s back to the nerd you met in a coffee shop all those months ago, and you like him like this, too. “So… dinner?”
“Mhm. Yeah. We should… we should definitely eat. What do you wanna eat?”
You don’t miss the quick once over he gives you. Or the way his throat bobs once he tears his eyes away.
“Um… how does Indian sound?”
You swear you don’t know how it happened.
Everything was going fine—there was food on the coffee table, a show on the TV. Spencer made tea. It was wholesome.
And then, somewhere between setting the plastic takeout bag down and actually opening it, you ended up like this. Kneeling next to him on the couch, one hand braced on his thigh, the other tangled in his hair as you kiss slow. Like this could actually be leading somewhere.
“We should stop,” he reminds you, even as his hand traverses up your leg. You lean further into him—he has to tip his head back to meet your lips.
“We’re kissing. It’s nothing.”
“You were—” kiss. “Just telling me—” kiss. “That you don’t want this right now.”
Deep kiss. The grip he has on your hip does not agree with his words.
“This is just kissing. Kissing isn’t sex.”
Even as you’re saying it, you’re throwing your leg over his lap, landing in a straddle.
“No,” he groans as if pained, throwing his head onto the back of the couch and depriving you of his mouth. “Baby. You have to get off. We can’t do this.”
“My bathroom—we could—it doesn’t share a wall with his apartment, we could go in there and turn on the shower and we could be really quiet—”
Suddenly there’s a hand over your mouth. It’s not yours.
“Please stop before I say yes.”
You pull his hand away, fingers wrapped around his wrist.
“You should. You should say yes. It’s a good idea, I know he wouldn’t be able to hear us over the shower—”
“It’s not about that. It’s about the fact that you asked me to turn you down not even an hour ago, no matter what you say, and I said I would.” He takes a shuddering deep breath. “And… I’m going to. I’m saying no.”
“No,” you whine, head falling to his shoulder, because you know he’ll keep his promise. He cups the back of your head—a kind, sympathetic gesture, which does nothing to alleviate the heat of your blood or the ache between your legs. You pout into his neck. “This is terrible. I might not survive.”
“I think you will.”
“Maybe if I enter a coma.”
He laughs and strokes your thigh.
“There are worse things than sexual frustration.”
“Not right now. This is the worst thing I can imagine.”
“I’m so sorry. You poor thing.”
You pull back to face him, hands on his shoulders.
“Oh my god. Don’t act like it’s not bothering you.”
“I’m not bothered.”
“I know that’s not true. You know how I can tell?”
The slightest adjustment of your hips draws attention to exactly what you mean. Spencer goes completely deadpan.
“Stop,” he orders in monotone, and you laugh even you allow yourself to be tossed back onto the couch because you’ve successfully flustered him again. He puts a throw pillow over his lap and leans forward, hiding his blush beneath perfect hands with a tortured groan. “You’re terrible.”
The couch attempts to suck you in as you wriggle back from a lying position, propping yourself up on your elbows and grinning at him.
“I did it,” you gloat.
He angles his head toward you, revealing half a pretty face, still dusted red but now with all the markings of inquisition.
“You did what?”
“I took the upper hand.”
Those dark eyes narrow and before you can think to retract your legs he’s wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling them over his pillow and leaving you flat on your back once more. Again you giggle.
“You took nothing,” he asserts, but you’re not bothered—still smiling as you accept your new position and toss your arms above your head casually.
“Somebody’s a sore loser.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Eat your curry.”
“Sorry, I’m full. From, you know, the taste of victory.”
He exhales a dry chuckle, leaning forward to finally retrieve the containers of food.
“I can’t believe I ever let you call me a nerd.”
The rest of the evening remains PG. Conversation flows and trickles comfortably over dinner on the couch, and afterwards, he suggests a documentary. From the outside, it might not look like much—but to you, with your head on his chest as the TV casts its flickering, ghostly light over the room, with the beating of his heart against your ear and his breath against the top of your head, it’s everything. Six months ago you didn’t know what it was to exist so comfortably around another person like this. Now, though he feels familiar and safe, you don’t take it for granted. The novelty of something so simple is not lost on you, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world as your eyes begin to flutter. You’re lucky to have someone you feel completely safe with.
Spencer murmurs your name like a question. It buzzes against your ear. You hum in response.
His thumb fans lines over your shoulder blade. “Can I ask you about something?”
“Mhm.”
“The other night… we didn’t really get a chance to—to debrief, afterwards. Which is fine, you were tired, it was late. But then the next morning I had to go, and everything with your neighbor happened, and we talked about that a little bit, but… but earlier, it sounded like maybe you… I don’t know. Maybe you weren’t feeling good about how it happened?”
“Spencer, I told you I don’t regret it,” you remind him, pushing up from his chest to look him in the eye. His hand slides down your back.
“I know… I just wanted to give you another chance to talk about it. In case anything was on your mind.” He frets over your hair, an invisible speck on your skin. Like he’s nervous. “And I want to make sure you’re feeling okay about how it went. I know what happened the next day was an unfortunate addendum, and I’m sorry about that. As soon as you give me permission, I will have him arrested. But I don’t want that to overshadow your experience.”
“It’s… not,” you breathe, fiddling with a button on Spencer’s shirt.
“So how did you feel about it? Barring anything external?”
“Good.”
Spencer strokes your jaw with a knuckle, gently admonishing.
“Don’t just say that. Think about it.”
“I have,” you assure him immediately, cheeks warming as you realize just how swiftly you’d replied.
What a lovely button. Mother-of-pearl. The shirt is a pale lilac. It looks good on him. One of your favorites, actually.
Spencer lets you pick at it. He would probably let you pull the button off, tear every stitch on the shirt with a seam-ripper if it helped to soothe your nerves.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you, or make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to go into explicit detail. I know it still feels weird to talk about. But it’s something we do have to talk about.”
“I know. And I would bring it up if something didn’t feel right. But it… was…” you chew your lip as you think of a way to phrase it that doesn’t sound too mushy-gushy. “Overwhelmingly… a very positive experience.”
“You sound like Yelp review,” Spencer says through a smile. You attempt to smother the continual heat of your embarrassment against his shirt. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, more intimately than anyone ever has before. And you’re still shy about acknowledging that fact.
“Shut up. Say something nice back.”
With a typically gentle hand, he pushes hair away from your ear.
“I…” he begins meaningfully, taking a moment to sweep your hair over your back. “Feel incredibly grateful that you trusted me to take care of you. I know that’s big for you, and I know it can be a really scary thing. Mostly I’m happy you’re happy. And that I didn’t mess up irredeemably.”
“What would you have messed up?” You laugh, retreating from your shelter against his chest to knit your brow.
He makes a face in the half-dark like he shouldn’t have said it.
“Uh… that… veers into explicit detail… and possibly too much honesty.”
You laugh again and adjust to frame his sheepish smile between your hands.
“I see. You have to keep your mystique in tact.”
“I really don’t think it’s that much of a mystery.”
“Well, I’ll spare your ego.”
“Wow, thanks. For the first time in your life.”
You go in for a chaste, smiley kiss, which stays sweet and kind even as it melts into something stickier.
It comes to a turning point and Spencer inhales deeply, gently angling his head away and shifting to check his watch. You collapse on his chest, catching your breath.
“I should go.”
“No. I feel like you’re going away to war.”
“I’m going to Court House. Where I live.”
“What if I never see you again?”
“It’s twenty minutes away. So you could always just drive.”
You frown.
“I hope you get trench foot.”
“You know seventy seven thousand soldiers died from trench foot in World War Two?”
“Obviously I did not know that.”
“Well, next time you should just say you want me to die. Up.”
He pats the back of your thigh and you push off of him, only after considering trying to hold him hostage for a split second.
You hover by the couch like a ghost, watching with increasing anxiety as he gathers together the empty containers from your meal and throws them in the kitchen garbage before collecting his things.
There is one thing—one potentially difficult thing you haven’t mentioned to him that seems to be a direct consequence of finally sleeping together.
You’re clingy.
Clingier than you’ve ever been. It didn’t seem possible to want to be around him more than you already had, but now when he’s gone you feel his absence like a vacuous hole by your side. Without his warmth, you’re always a little colder. A little less comfortable.
It’s embarrassing to admit that you’re starting to get separation anxiety, so you won’t put it into so many words—but you think, as he turns, slinging his bag over his shoulder with a knowing look, that he understands.
At the same time, you begin to close the space, meeting gently in the middle, toe to toe. You keep your hands behind your back, afraid that otherwise you’ll try and glom onto him like a barnacle on a ship’s hull.
“There are some things I’d like to get done this week so I don’t have to worry about them during our trip. So I might not see you for a day or two.”
Dutifully you nod, though you’re slightly crushed.
“That’s okay. We’re grownups.”
“I don’t know,” he tuts. “I’m worried I’m gonna start writing my name with your last on all my notebooks.”
That stupid, stupid charm.
“Mm… I’m kinda out of your league,” you grin.
Spencer’s smile wanes slowly, but his eyes remain soft and aglow as they explore your face as reverently as his hands would. When he speaks, it’s in an honest, borderline whisper. “I’m acutely aware.”
Slowly his head dips, and your eyes flutter shut. A sweet, lingering kiss lands on your cheek. Then he’s pulling back.
“That’s it?” You can’t help but ask, peering up at him and barely concealing a frown.
He smiles that lovely smile, but by this point you’re attuned enough to his facial expressions to recognize the subtle heat playing just beneath the surface of those golden-oak eyes.
“What? Did I give you the impression that I put out?”
“It’s just a kiss.”
That teasing edge becomes ever so slightly sharper as he regards you, head tilting.
“Mhm. And the last time you said that—was it before or after you mounted me?”
You shoo him away pretty quickly after that—partly for discipline, and partly because the sooner he’s gone, the sooner you’ll go to sleep, and the sooner it will be tomorrow.
And this trip can’t come soon enough, because you’re pretty sure you know exactly what kind of alone you’d like to be with Spencer Reid.
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a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.
quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.
oh and spoilers. i guess.
the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.
the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.
the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.
the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds
the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.
the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".
having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.
don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.
if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.
pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.
there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.
this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.
this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.
13. Charlie:
(see what i mean about that red thing?)
as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.
her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice
its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.
character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.
now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.
she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?
14. Vaggie
why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?
I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.
she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.
i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.
christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way
15. Alastor.
God Damn
where to start.
"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?
his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.
tumblr sexy man bait
he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.
his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.
his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.
he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.
personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.
im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.
16. Angel Dust
what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.
all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")
I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.
not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.
i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.
same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.
17. Carmilla carmine
are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?
Big Yoai Hands
ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.
A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-
her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.
i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.
18. cherri bomb
that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt
decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.
19. egg boiz
absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.
20. Emily
im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character
does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie
We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.
good contrast with the other angels on screen.
Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???
21. Husk
keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?
one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.
has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.
huge potential, little pay off.
22. lillith
I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.
alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.
23. lucifer morningstar
no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.
few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.
would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.
that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.
24. Adam.
alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.
I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up
I fucking hate his mask
We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.
25. Niffty
again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.
token straight
keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization
you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?
26. Sir Pentious
the secret season one redeemed.
the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.
essentially a child after the first episode.
actually a snake which i appreciate.
no where near steampunky enough.
27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.
28. Valentino
gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED
only a moth some of the time.
sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.
it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.
29. Vox
legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.
propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.
why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?
same body shape as literally every other male character.
tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.
30. Valvette
the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".
apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.
apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias
we know so much about her from things outside of the show.
was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.
im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.
but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.
this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.
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yes dippy we should talk about bi cregan with bi reader!!
imagine them recruiting northern hotties for threesomes 🤭
mmf: cregan with another man (preferably jace) giving her that double worship. cregan always has the upper hand ofc even when it's not a twink but another big broody northern they're sharing their bed with. and when cregan gets to top him while he eats her out and she holds eye contact with cregan as he's fucking that guy.
ffm: it's either the same way that she is the center of attention OR cregan and her tagteam that other woman and fuck her stupid. cregan with his big fat uncut cock and her with her tongue and fingers while cregan fucks the other woman.
- respectful anon
pairing: cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon x reader
authors note: oh respectful anon… i read (preferably jace) and absolutely shuddered. oh my god . i’m sorry the other ideas in here are wonderful too i just have to get this out before i go off my rocker
jacaerys arriving in the north, bearing the colors of queen rhaenyra, and being greeted by cregan stark — and his comely wife.
he can feel his breath hitch as soon as he slides off vermax and spots you, arm wrapped around cregans bicep. even though the snow crunches under his boots and the early winter winds seep beneath his clothing, jace feels his skin run hot. and this time, he cannot blame it on the blood of the dragon.
once you approach, jace gives you both a respectful nod of his head, before cregan greets jacaerys with a firm handshake. jace takes your hand, kissing your knuckles, and says the tales do not do your beauty (they don’t). you only smile, dipping into a small curtsy and playfully telling him not to make you blush.
he spares a glance at cregan, a small worry of overstepping dancing in his gaze, but cregan only nods — a smirk adorning the lord of winterfells lips.
the very lips that have grown accustomed to the feel of yours.
the thought is shooed away as quickly as it arises. you’re married, and jace feels a pang of disappointment at the places his mind has a tendency to wander to. you’re extending your hospitality to him, he won’t disrespect you with such concepts (won’t he?).
once having vermax sorted, you & cregan then escort him to winterfell. cregan speaks of the north and its history, and jace replies when necessary, but he finds his gaze drifting from the lord of winterfell, and landing on the lady attracted to his side instead. jace, no matter how much internal scolding, finds himself ceaselessly returning to quietly study (admire) your features.
as you enter the castle, jace notices your cheeks are flushed from the cold. cregan, mid sentence, silently ushers you towards the nearest hall fire with the unforeseen hand on the small of your back. something unfamiliar stirs in him at the sight (want).
they swore vows to each other in sight of the northern gods, chides jaces inner voice.
but, no matter how much restraint he expresses, as his stay continues, he finds himself enamored.
enamored with the playful glimmer in your eyes, the way your hips sway as you walk, how your dress hugs your curves, your light teasing, your love for lemon cakes, how you always catch jacaerys’ eye even from across the room. he’s utterly, hopelessly enthralled.
and even worse, he’s given himself away
you, jace, and cregan have been proper. careful not to overstep, but aware enough to silently acknowledge the underlying tension that sits between you. jacaerys would’ve been content with this dynamic for the entirety of his visit, it would’ve been a good exercise of self control — if the day in the kitchens didn’t change everything.
the skies weep, the raindrops making a soft pattering noise on the windows all around the castle. it's a brief change in atmosphere, and gives him time to get used to the more intimate aspects of winterfell.
rain trapping you inside, you and cregan had offered to give jacaerys a proper tour of winterfell, to rectify the short one he had been given upon his arrival.
this particular instance, that made him run as hot as his temper, takes place as the tour winded to an end, and you all ended up in the kitchens. the same kitchens that jace, when supping with you both from then on out, can't stop thinking about.
you had pulled them in, relishing in the idea of swiping a few small pastries to hold your sweet tooth over until dinner - assuring him that the cooks were quite used to you and cregans troublemaking, & were sworn to secrecy with a toothy grin (his heart skipped a beat at the sight).
you had been successful in your "stealing", but the problem arose when cregan had been conversing with one of the cooks, as you and jace stood over the counter, bringing the two small lemon cakes to your mouth.
you were conversing about something — what that was, jacaerys couldn’t remember if his life depended on it. once finished with your pastries, you had some leftover cream on the corner of your mouth. of course, since you're the worst minx to ever bewitch him, you raise a thumb to the corner of your mouth, swiping it off. then (of course), you bring it to your lips, maintaining eye contact with jace, and (of course) suck it off.
whatever he was saying had instantly died on his tongue.
his response was his parted lips trying to bring in air to send to his lungs so he could breathe, but, of course, you seem to have taken his breath too. suddenly the kitchen feels hot, ovens contributing to a warm atmosphere that had quickly turned blazingly overwhelming.
his gaze stayed trapped on where your thumb met your (soft looking) lips, as every part of the white cream had been sucked off.
you were most surprised & pleased by his reaction, indeed. you had an inkling the prince might be taken with you, but you wouldn’t act without certainty. and here you had it, certainty of the utmost stature had fallen right into your hands — watching his gaze flicker from your eyes, to your lips, your cleavage... and back to your lips again.
cregans voice snaps jacaerys out of the trance he had found himself in, and he’s ashamed to say he had to ask cregan to repeat himself. if he wasn’t devoting all of his energy into acting normal, he would see the way cregan glanced at you with raised brows seeing the smile on your face.
regardless of how it came to be, you’ve caught on. and jacaerys is seriously considering how dearly he’d be missed if the ground were to open up & swallow him whole.
your actions now have a certain weight behind them, confidence guiding your every step. hands “accidentally” brushing each other, glances from across the room, subconsciously leaning into each others warmth, flirtatious “jests” that grow bolder by the day, always teetering on the line of jesting and meaning it (you always mean it). you fix his crooked tunic for him, shifting it the right way. jacaerys pretends the warmth emanating from your hands doesn’t make him dizzy.
still, even so, jace had been showing remarkable restraint — not allowing his princely regime to falter (much), and keeping in his remarks. until you both spoke about vermax.
you stood atop one of winterfells walls, watching vermax fly, dipping in & out of the clouds. he was beautiful, and jacaerys would never abandon the opportunity of a conversation with you (or about vermax, of course).
jace told you of how vermax hatched in his crib as a babe, and you wistfully remark on your childhood dreams of dragonriding. he tells you you'd make a fearsome dragonrider. you say you'd made a good dragon rider indeed, but, instead of looking at vermax, jace finds your gaze fixed on him.
you poorly conceal the hidden tone of voice indicating you don't mean the green-scaled dragon in the sky above you, but the chocolate-curled dragon next to you. you don't do a good job of hiding the grin that threatens to erupt on your face, either.
jace feels a furious blush adorn his face, and the corners of his mouth tug up in a repressed smirk. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his smile turning upside down as his gaze shifts back to vermax's soaring form.
"You speak truly. Any man would envy the dragon."
he pretends not to see the smile spreading across your face from his peripheral. you lean in closer to him, wrapping a hand around his bicep to punctuate your words.
"Men already envy you, My Prince."
he keeps his resolve as you walk away, but as soon as you're out of sight, he sighs — leaning his weight against the edge of the top of the wall, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips. gods have mercy on jacaerys velaryon.
after you sup for dinner, you and cregan escort him to his chambers, and jace feels taking on the entire green army by itself would be easier than this. trying to conceal his eyes being trapped on you, furious desire mounting in his stomach as guilt claws it’s way up his throat. it’s only by stroke of luck that you all walk in silence — he could not entertain a proper conversation if he tried.
does cregan know of your conversation? what would he say? what would he do? the very last thing he needs to be doing is disrespecting the warden of the north that he’s trying to ally.
these thoughts echo in his mind as you approach the door leading to his chambers. you three stop, jaces back to the heavy oak door as you and cregan stand in front of him.
“We shall see you in the morn, then.” says cregan.
jace nods, but his next words die on his tongue as you move from cregans side. his heart hammers in his chest as you saunter to him, standing on your tiptoes as your hand moves to cup his cheek. he subconsciously leans down for you, and you press a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, a breath to the right away from his lips.
seven save him.
his lips part with bated breath, eyes locked onto you as you pull away. his hands twitch with the need to pull you to him, and then he remembers your husband that’s standing right in front of you both.
jaces eyes widen, looking to cregan, but cregan only tilts his head.
his lips… is he smiling? as they hold eye contact, he spots amusement, content, and want (?) in cregans gaze, and then, the smallest of nods.
oh.
oh.
jace’s gaze flickers from cregan, to you, and back and forth a few more times. his breathing is unsteady as you return to cregans side, and you can’t (or don’t) hide your pleasure at his reaction.
“Goodnight, My Prince.”
he cant even manage a nod as you both turn to walk away, cregan shooting him one last look. the flustered prince of dragonstone retreats to his chambers, leaning his head against his closed & locked door — moving to fiddle with the laces of his breeches.
you and your husband certainly make quite the pair. cregan, steadfast, burly, & brooding (handsome), with a reserved playfulness only for you — and you, teasing, warm, & confident, with a seemingly reserved deliberateness to drive jacaerys crazy (not that it takes much, of course).
one night, when he thinks he's completely lost any hope of sanity, the gods decide to have a sort of cruel mercy on him.
it is lord boltons name day, and he has extended the planned celebrations invitation to jacaerys as well. you three depart as one, opting to travel by horseback instead of jace arriving on vermax days before you and cregan. most are surprised by his decision, indeed (did jace sacrifice his freedom on dragonback for the prospect of spending more time with you both?).
jace didn't know you rode horses. he acts like the swaying of your hips doesn't capture him, distracting him throughout the entire journey. you and cregan act like you don't notice (do you?)
you all arrive, and on the day of celebrations, allow the wine & northern ale to wash away your sins down your throat. cregans tolerance is highest, jace's is lowest, with you resting in the middle. his cheeks are flushed, and his prided self control has seemed to have left itself at winterfell. you converse with one another in a secluded corner, allowing everyone else to fade from view. you speak with loose tongues, and jacaerys feels cregans hand on the back of his neck, thumb creeping into his hairline.
you speak of the festivities, the travel, the gossip, dragonstone, and jaces own interests. he can see something lurking beneath your usual gaze, you were hiding something. your eyes flickered with uncertainty. no — you wanted to know something.
and then, the very question that broke the damn - sweltering with the combined pent up desire allowed to built over the last weeks.
"Are you untouched, My Prince?"
#dippys asks#respectful anon#house of the dragon#cregan stark#jacaerys velaryon#cregan stark x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#cregan x jace x reader#cregan stark thoughts#jacaerys velaryon thoughts#cracer thoughts#get it#cregan jace reafer#haha#good one fuckface#anyways#my ovaries did backflips with this holy shit#it’s almost like i hate this#but i’ve reached that point where#it is what it is#sigh
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Turtwig and Torterra are almost perfect. Grotle........ is also there.
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Chimchar really doesn't look like much, but Infernape absolutely rips
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Piplup is easily the best gen 4 starter, Empoleon is practically a legendary
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Video scripts below the cut
Turtwig:
Ah, the worst gen 4 starter - I'm kidding! I'm kidding. It's only second worst. It's a simple concept, executed well: what if a tortoise was also the seed of a plant, and as the tortoise grows, so does the tree on its shell. It recalls the idea of world turtles, the best cosmological concept, which is also hinted at in Torterra's pokédex entries.
But, right, Turtwig - like most starters it's mostly designed to be cute, with its broad smiling jaw and oversized upper lip and chibi proportions. The lil' twig with the two leaves on the head is just adorable, it's the pokémon version of a propeller hat, and I'm really charmed by it.
As for Grotle, well, middle stages are often awkward, and with its weird almost caterpillar body shape and two… bushes(?) on the back, it looks a bit half-finished. It really could have done more to imply a flowering garden on its back, it looks too barren.
Torterra, though? Fuck yeah, Torterra, this pokémon is so fucking cool. A giant tortoise with legs like tree trunks and claws made of boulders, and hills and trees perched upon its back, that RULES. My only criticism is that it is way too small in-game. If it was Wailord sized, it'd be S-tier.
Grade: A
Chimchar
Chimchar is probably the weakest design among the starters, both it and Monferno never really transcend just being… monkeys with fire on their tails. Chimchar has the… well it's supposed to be the shape of a small ember on its head, but let's be real, it looks like a poop, and there just isn't enough THERE to make it more than what it seems on the surface.
Monferno at least has the blue and red face markings, slightly recalling the idea of a mandrill, which is cool, and a bit of that wild white collar, which, okay, that's something, but it still barely looks special - if anything it looks like a first-stage evolution, honestly.
Infernape, thankfully, makes up for a LOT of lost ground. The billowing fire hair gives it a sense of dynamism, the powerful red crest on the face makes it look tough, the bright white is striking and the decorative gold pads on its body recalls how divinity is often decorated in Asian art. It's trite to compare every mystical monkey to Sun Wukong, but it does feel like some of him or Hanuman is in here, the design has a ton of charisma. And I really like that it remains slim, it looks agile, quick, clever, and more than a little mischievous. Weak pre-evolution designs are worth it to get to here.
Grade: B
Piplup is easily the best gen 4 starter, Empoleon is practically legendary
Piplup is the cutest gen 4 starter and also the best designed, this lil' guy is such an instant and immediate charmer. Being a baby penguin, how could it not be, but also the way that its blue markings are "fastened" on its beak and cascade down into a cloak hanging over its shoulders gives it a real "preschool kid in a raincoat" vibe that I love, and the two "buttons" on the tummy like it's wearing overalls just… god it's cute.
Prinplup avoids the awkwardness of middle stage evolutions, looking both cute with its plump little body, buttons and tailcoat, like a kid wearing his first fancy suit, but also like it's fast and powerful, thanks to those sleek fins and the head crest.
Empoleon, meanwhile… like holy shit, this thing looks like a LEGENDARY. The beak extending into a shape which is both a crown AND a trident is genuinely brilliant design, the picture of a nautical ruler. The stippling on the white marking makes it look like a fancy cravat of a king or prince, the hard edges of its collar look at once regal and dangerous, like it could slice you to piece with it, and together with those shield-like hard fins gives it an air of invulnerability almost. This thing is INTIMIDATING, it's regal, it's powerful, it's amazing!
Grade: S
#tb posting#pokemon#pokémon#pokémon diamond#pokémon pearl#pokémon gen 4#piplup#prinplup#empoleon#turtwig#grotle#torterra#chimchar#monferno#infernape#Youtube
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i keep getting amazed by how starkly different betelgeuse and lydia’s dynamic is in the movie versus the cartoon. what do you mean one was based on the other? how did we get “that WAS you stalking me!” from the same source material as “you’re one of a kind, beetlejuice. don’t ever change.”
yeah it happens
it seems like they decided on making a beetlejuice animated series first, and then they tried to figure out how to make it kid friendly. there's this interview that says stephen ouimette's first beetlejuice voices were very close to keaton's in the movie, but that they felt there was something very off about having an "evil creepy guy with a goth girl in the attic" and that was when they decided to soften the character. ouimette did a lighter and funnier voice and that alone was enough for them to feel like he wasn't a threat and the goth girl was safe around him. and i guess things just took off from there as they figured out the characters. it IS a children's cartoon, and being ran by abc at the time they had to keep things cute and wholesome. tim burton was very involved in the creation process (as much as he could while working on batman) so having bj and lydia be friends instead of enemies was pretty much his choice. but again, kids cartoon ran by abc. and that's why we have sugary sweet quotes like the one you said.
seems like even back then tim has always preferred a more amicable dynamic for those two. we already know him, michael, winona, everyone in the cast wants them to be together to some degree thanks to recent interviews. and i think that is why beetlejuice's character was slightly changed in the sequel, from an evil creepy guy to just....a creepy guy with a crush i guess. point is, they don't want him to be The Bad Guy anymore and that's why the sequel is the way it is.
BUT they can't just make him "not evil" and expect it to work, that would make no sense, he still needs to have this creepy and wrong edge to him, and lydia's not gonna just forgive and forget what happened in the first movie. so, combining allllll these elements, we get this brand new dynamic between them: creepy guy in love with the woman he's been stalking for 30 years (pure insanity but not exactly evil) and woman who's like "ugh not this fucking guy again" but still goes to him for help, begrudgingly. she can't quite get rid of him. they're obviously not enemies anymore and they're not friends either. but now it's a bit more believable for them to reach some sort of amicability, eventually.....perhaps in the third one.....we shall see
AND THAT.......is how we got from this concept
to this concept
and finally this concept.
three entirely different dynamics. three three three. rule of thirds, you know i love it. it's a crazy journey but i think it makes more sense when broken down like this.
musical stuff isn't really part of this journey BUT the musical did help soften people's perception of beetlejuice even MORE, so now pretty much everyone can buy into the idea that he can be more than just an "evil creepy guy," to the point where soooo many people were actually dying to see the two team up and be friends in the sequel.
and now the original movie feels like the outlier. oh the IRON-E ok sorry im not using that pun again
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Someone called Bill Cipher and Ford Pines a doomed soulmates pairing and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that.
Being doomed soulmates, to me, always felt intrinsically tragic. One of the few examples I could think off hand are Achilles and Patroclus, two people loved each other so much but they weren't destined for happiness. Greek heroes 99% of the time never are. Soulmates as a trope is defined in someone being destined to end up with their perfect match.
That's why Bill and Ford being doomed soulmates is so utterly fascinating. BillFord is probably the most anti-romantic pairing Gravity Falls (show) could honestly conjure. So much of that pairing is built on manipulation, lies and transaction. Bill is using Ford to get into the a physical realm so he can rule it, while Ford is idly using Bill to learn more things about the unnatural side of the world. So those two being soulmates on any level is going to be anything but healthy. I mean, even in the show, Bill tortures Ford for information.
Furthermore, it can be used in such fascinating theories and AUs. When we read the story as them as explicit doomed soulmates, while pairing information we have from the show and fandom theories you can bring to life fun concepts.
When the show was airing, there was a theory post-ATOTS that Blendin Possesed By Bill had messed with Ford's project to further ruin it than Stan had. Which is why it looked more damaged coupled with the "Blendin was here" with a triangle right there in the episode. So what if it was Bill that ruined the project? That would make the Stan Twins fight and go their separate ways, while this intentionally led Ford right down the path to meet Bill eventually in Gravity Falls. The path that eventually lead to their partnership, Ford being pushed into the portal, 30 years trapped in the Dream Dimension, and later, Bill's defeat.
And that's just one idea I came up for some random fanfiction floating in my brain. The reason I even like that particular concept is that it does more than absolve Stan of wrongdoing, but rather shows you how twisted Bill Cipher could be. There's more you can do with it. Doomed soulmates destined to find each other, and destined to ruin each other. Bill being half the reason Ford was pushed through portal or how he let Ford go insane through fear while Ford being a part of the Cipher Zodiac that could vanquish Bill or using the memory gun on Bill to erase him from existence.
It's so interesting because even if BillFord isn't my ship, you can unpack so much through their dynamic through this lens. Like what makes them click together and what drives them apart.
You guys might have already realized all this, but I just needed to get this off my chest. Finding out more about Bill and Ford's relationship has altered me on a fundamental level. Doomed Soulmates is actually the most appropriate way to define it. How else would you define it?
Thank you for listening to me, a semi-casual fan of Gravity Falls.
#billford#the book of bill#bill cipher#ford pines#stanford pines#gravity falls#doomed soulmates#lumi rambles#gravity falls meta
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Being In A Relationship With Feyd-Rautha Would Be Like This...
A/N: Yes yesss, I'm back from the deepest depths of the dead, finals kicked my ass earlier but now its almost october and I'll burn any exam paper I see from this moment onwards 😀 don't even question why I used this gif, it pretty much summarises the whole headcanon lmao🖤so enjoy it and lmk if you want to be added to the taglist thing at the end. Keep in mind that requests are not open currently, as I'm catching up with ones already in my inbox for Dune and other dark fandoms.
Warnings: Kind of dark themes, mid violence.. it's Feyd Rautha, idk what to tell you 😐
Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎
☠︎︎• You got yourself into some weird territory with this one 😵💫
☠︎︎• If you're expecting any semblance of stability and pure romance, then I'd turn and run for the Dunes to find Paul instead, because this Harkonnen doesn't have an ounce of level sanity in him, and the amount of spiking tension you'll have to cope with on a daily basis is enough to give anyone a literal heart attack 💀💀
☠︎︎• My guesses are that you were introduced to Feyd-Rautha as either a pretty young Bene Gesserit girl chosen to weave her way into his life to continue the bloodline, or he liked the look of you when he was off-world in one instance to look over Spice production with his uncle, and took you back as a trophy because he liked the look of you. So lucky you. 🙃
☠︎︎• This boy is an absolute sadist and an unpredictable unhinged mess, so there's a lot to get used to, and even when you do get used to things, it could all flip and spin just as quickly. It would take a hell of a time to truly understand Feyd-Rautha enough to predict him one hundred per cent and longer to have his trust that you won't run off or try betraying him.
☠︎︎• There's definitely a kind of dangerous allure to him that he uses to his advantage, a smug grin on his face when he enters the arenas, most likely to make kills in your name. It wouldn't be a massive surprise if you became some figure in Giedi Prime to sacrifice the dead to, like some kind of goddess of the kill (ik that sounds dramatic as hell, but i see it happening .-.)
☠︎︎• Feyd-Rautha is absolutely not used to the concept of looking out for anyone other than himself, or feeling anything close to respect and love for anyone other than himself. So the relationship he forces between you and him is a shaky and slow-burning bond that works in its own weird ways and quirks, and adapts to him and him only, so there are a lot of adjustments to be made on your end. Because even though Feyd isn't sensitive in the general sense, he's majorly unpredictable, and one wrong word could set him off. Just, tread carefully in the early days.
☠︎︎• If you want affection in any other way than corpses and bruising hickies, it may take a little while, because he has no idea how to pull that kind of gentleness off, and doesn't necessarily want to either. But if it's something that'll get you to submit to his hold over you more, then he'll come round to it, and when there's absolutely no one else in the area, you might get some actual, genuine passion, though there's always a part of it mixed in with some darker conflict in him.
☠︎︎• If you want attention from him, you've got it anyway. Feyd has his own form of attachment, pretty much an obsession, but it's always tangled in with his desire to dominate and possess. It's a suffocating relationship and tipped-scales dynamic, and the only way you can really get him to see your side of things is by wording it in ways that'll make it sound like it was his idea in the first place, and that the reason is because it'll feel better for him.
☠︎︎• Needless to say, if you're a little firmer and have a dark side to you (i'll make a safe bet that you do if you want this guy x_x) this Harkonnen is a thrill seeker to the extreme, someone always looking to feel something new and raw and insatiable, like the sharpest peaks of ecstasy and adrenaline, so will he try out new stuff with you even though it sounds mental and freaky and dangerous? That's a rhetorical question.
☠︎︎• Despite all the bloodshed and his ruthless havoc in the arenas, taking lives and living for the pain of it, believe it or not, Feyd is actually vulnerable in the least suspecting way. He doesn't have an emotional connection with anyone, because he's an unhinged psycho amongst a crowd of pale unhinged psychos who expect nothing less (and.. have you watched the film?? It's confirmed that this dude has mummy issues, so... i'm just saying, look at this hc's front gif 😏)
☠︎︎• If we're talking romance and affection, just think intense. Intense intense intense, because that's the best way to describe it. His hugs are breathtakingly tight and forcefully smothering, and he doesn't kiss, he full-on makes out with you. Public or not doesn't matter, it's just an opportunity to mark you as his in front of an audience, and he'll gladly perform, so suck up your shyness.
☠︎︎• Thinking of pet names, I see Feyd-Rautha calling you either by just your true first name and having everyone else address you just by your general title, or using other typical nicknames he'd use with satisfied smirks and lingering looks. Maybe his dearest darling, because you're higher than the pets he feeds and used before you (apparently they're called harpies??!? idk what the heck lol) I don't see him saying my love or honey unless he's just being a jackass in an argument, because I'm betting my life savings this boy only eats bitter things, and he sure as hell can't define love like you can.
☠︎︎• Feyd comes across as pretty dominant in everything he does, which is right, and even if it's you questioning him, he'll throw a dangerous fit that escalates within a second no one sees, so, again you have to be clever with the way you word things. You physically and mentally cannot be independent with Feyd-Rautha, because he'll break that spirit right out of your soul. Would he physically hurt you? Not badly, no, but just don't push him, because he'll lash out without a second thought in the moment of impulse.
☠︎︎• Again with the independence, another thing that stops you from getting any is how absolutely suffocatingly obsessive he can get, which turns on his possessiveness. You're essentially an extension of himself, something that's peaceful and pure and perfect in so many ways he'll never understand and will always pull your mind apart to try to. So if any other skulking Harkonnen looking to impress you by challenging Feyd himself or devoting a kill in the arena to you, has immediately chosen the slowest, most humiliating death, that you'll probably be tied down to watch -_-
☠︎︎• And if he can tell in even the smallest way that you're drawn to someone aside from him, there's a chance you'll be kept locked up in his chambers for a month or two with no servants, nothing breathing at all permitted to trespass except him, until he's satisfied and you have him wrapped around your finger again. And that means you can get him to do practically anything if it benefits him and draws you closer, like a kill.. to maybe even destroying a whole planet, it's not impossible for him. Once he has his mind set on something, he's a hunter, he's found his target, and he'll go wild until he destroys it.
☠︎︎• He's protective in the way that he will not let you die, or get hurt in any way by any person other than him. If another Harkonnen draws your blood in the tiniest scratch, or hurts your feelings in some way, Feyd will use that as an excuse to wring their necks. You're his to look at and admire and dress up and be close to and make you feel things, so anyone else daring to step up beside you will get knocked down and fed to his darlings. The only time you'll actually see him being doting and surprisingly, cautiously gentle is when he's healing a wound without the audience of any nurses or outside help, an uncharacteristic and uncomfortable silence in the air as he concentrates and gets you back to rights.
☠︎︎• The moments where he'll allow himself to be truly close to you go unspoken, like in the cold hard nights of Geidi Prime, where he pulls you up from your bed and tugs you down the short dark corridor to dump you in his own instead, with nothing else but the need to feel smotheringly close to someone who understands how his mind works. You'll remind him of his mother, and that's all good, so long as you stay by him and with him always, because if you take the opportunity to turn and run, don't let him catch you in the act. There's a 50/50 chance he'll keep you in his rooms for the rest of the relationship, or just straight-up kill you and take in your memories and mind to possess you that way ._.
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Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎 ⊹˚₊‧───────────────────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @milaeth @ennycutie @nckcn @void21 @leighta @williamtt33 @deathsimp @tatumrileyslover @beebumbo @the-dark-dreamer25 @lilepad @skboo @keicdcat @1950schick @reggiesmoon @velosrantipole @yoonessa @anonymjuni @saturnhas82moons @xlxnq @frickyea-guacamole19 @meowmeeps @chalklate
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DUNE MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ MAIN MASTERLIST
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha#feyd#feyd rautha imagine#feyd x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen#house harkonnen#harkonnen#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha x you#dune fanfiction#dune x you#dune x reader#dune fandom#dune frank herbert#austin butler x reader#austin butler x you#austin butler x y/n#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler imagine#austin butler one shot#austin butler fandom#austin butler feyd rautha#austin butler fic#austin butler fluff#feyd rauth harkonnen#feyd x you
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Hi,just wanted to ask if you would be able to write about people reacting to Aegon in displaying PDA with either his wife or lover.
Like the touches are not sexual but like lingering and innocent, people can see how in love they are or how deep their connection is.
It can also be a brothel worker (I love your latest piece of work) that he cares deeply for and wouldn't mind showering her with affections as she did him.
Anyway, just saying your writings got me into knowing the dom and sub in a very gentle and comfortable way. Love you!
I'm so glad to hear you enjoy my content!! Also yeah I love when dom/sub dynamics can be so gentle and sweet and very very healthy and communicative. Loads of people tend to think that BDSM is purely slapping people and calling them whores but that's not even close to the truth. In case you guys couldnt tell I am most certainly a certified soft dom and service dom.
Anyway, I love this idea! I think I'm going to write this with Aegon and his wife instead of brothel worker? I'm very happy to do a brothel worker one if you guys would like I just think he concept makes a bit more sense with wife!reader. If you have thoughts about this with brothel worker!reader and how that would work then feel free to let me know!! I'd be happy to explain on it.
Back to the point, there's nothing too explicit in this answer so no cut to hide behind, but it's very clearly sub!aegon so bare that in mind before you decide to read :))
I've said this before and I'll say it again: at first your marriage with Aegon is like any other arranged marriage and you're only seen together when absolutely necessary. But then you start to get to know each other and your dynamic starts to become more dom/sub and from there he is absolutely OBSESSED with his wife and everyone knows it.
So the PDA starts once the dom/sub dynamic has been sorted out.
As we all know, Aegon is very needy. He's a needy, jealous kinda pathetic little thing and he wants nothing more than to watch his wife be so much smarter than him and get to be her little gremlin cheerleader who followers her around and has no thoughts whatsoever. Now obviously he's the actual king so he needs to be seen a little more in control than that, as Allicent is always reminding him, but that's not to say he actually tries to seem that way.
If you're in public with Aegon then you are always next to him. If you get called away and are gone for more than a few minutes then Aegon will start looking for you because where are you??!! You're his wife!! How are you be away from him for more than a few minutes!!
He's been known to come up from behind you and wrap both his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder while you're talking to someone else. He won't actually contribute to the conversation and if the people you're talking to try to include him he simply won't respond. He's not there to actually joint the conversation, he's there because his wife is!
When he's holding court, Aegon will never allow you to be standing with all the others below the thrown. Historically that is where the queen consort has always been, standing with the other ladies of the court while the king sits on the iron thrown.
Before you two became closer you wouldnt even attend Aegon's court and he didnt care. But when you start to get closer and you start come to court, he point blank refuses to let you stand with all the other ladies. You're the queen!! What are you doing down there???
The first time this happens, you had spent the night with him and he asks you to come to court with him. You agree of course, and you enter the thrown room together. He walks as he usually does and goes up the stairs to the thrown. He turns around and he's about to sit when he realises you arent with him. He looks around and sees you've moved to the side with the other ladies of the court.
"What are you doing over there?" Aegon asks you. He tilts his head and chuckles because he thinks it's absolutely hilarious that you'd actually think you had to stand there with all of them. He tells you to come up with him, and you do walk up the stairs to the thrown but when you get there you simply speak softy to him, reminding him that there's only the iron thrown and not anything else to sit on so you ask if he wants you to stand next to him for the entire thing.
Obviously this is unacceptable to him. He would never make you do that.
He ends up insisting you sit on the actual thrown and he literally just sits on the stairs besides you. Everyone, including you, doesn't know what to think of this but Aegon has no issues whatsoever. Honestly he's very happy sitting on the stairs and listening to all the different things people come to him about. Very often he'll look up at you, silently asking for your opinion and when you do start speaking, he doesn't look back at the person you're speaking to but instead he keeps his eyes on you. He looks so very clearly in love and in awe of you and pretty quickly everyone gets used to it.
After that court day you try to suggest he gets another chair next to the thrown or something but he actually refuses? He really likes sitting on the stairs, likes that you get the thrown. When you try to tell him that you're not sure if that's even allowed he simply reminds you that he's king.
Pretty soon all the paintings of Aegon during his reign are actually him on the stairs with you on the thrown, many of them show Aegon looking up at you and not even looking straight ahead.
That really shows everyone what your dynamic is. You're always calm and collected and very kind when needed. Aegon, meanwhile, is utterly obsessed with you and is always looking at you like he's in awe you're actually his wife.
Of course you're also always holding hands when walking together, or linking arms.
#sub!aegon#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon smut#aegon the second#king aegon#aegon ii targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd
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Human!Mark with a Super-powered/Viltrumite!Reader
It’s cute he’s so possessive, as if we wouldn’t break him like a twig... 🙈
THISSSS this is incredible!! i am going crazy!!
i love this idea so much,, perhaps reader is an child of thragg. i am now putting my little headcanon in where i think that mark would have glasses and braces… real nerdy guy x girl that is only gentle with him… cute dynamic hehe!!
this is sfw since im writing a full fic currently, just some headcanons maybe to get the concept out there!! the fic will be called “the perfect girl”
cw: nothing really, as i have stated this is short, maybe a blurb? i am not sure haha,
the youngest viltrumite to be sent to conquer a planet. you’re sent to earth to take over another viltrumite’s mission that was supposedly cut short due to his untimely death. as soon as you burst onto the scene you’d had everyone’s attention; splattering kaijus like they were bugs, stopping criminals with your presence alone, saving those who were weaker, more susceptible to danger. you’re quick to rise as a favourite of the public, surpassing even the guardians in popularity.
mark meets you at a comic book signing at a con because of course he does. you’re there because you find humans interesting, that and you’d caught wind of a possible attack incoming at the event. you doubted they’d actually come along seeing as you’d made your presence known and you weren’t too kind with your beatdowns. you’d never admit it, but you found this type of media entertaining, the stories would interest you. even though you were a viltrumite, there wasn’t any law that said you couldn’t have a little bit of fun. (you also somewhat enjoyed the fame and the fanbases that had cultivated around you since you decided you didn’t need a superhero name, your name was good enough)
brown eyes stare at you through thick framed glasses, sparkling with interest and recognition, a goofy braced sideways smile forming on his face. you raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over your chest as you stared dead into his eyes. mark almost dropped the stacks of comic books he held in his arms, you were ethereal. he’d seen you on tv, you were all over the newsfeeds sometimes so you were hard to avoid. he thought you were beautiful before, thought you looked like an angel now. other people had gotten pictures with you earlier so he was sure there wouldn’t be a problem if he asked.
he got his picture but you had gotten his number, watched him walk away with pink cheeks, caught in a sort of daze. mark felt so comfortable to you, so… familiar..? maybe all humans weren’t so bad, mark was proof of that.
when you’d come over for dinner with his family one night, you’d finally worked out why. you’d never met nolan, but had heard stories about him growing up on viltrum. he’d been priming the planet for invasion but had been killed which put a cap on things until your arrival about two and a half years ago after you’d proved yourself worthy. you had the shock of your life when you sat at the table and squinted at your boyfriend’s father, heart dropping when you connected the dots. you and mark had been together for months now, you’d know if he was a viltrumite… had the great nolan faked his own death and fathered an offspring with no powers? you almost scoffed at the irony. what a tired and cowardly old man, the karma of having a child with no abilities must have been damning enough. you thought about you and mark’s potential future children and a warmth washed over you, the same warmth that made you feel all gooey and sickly sweet inside.
“tell me about your planet.” he’d say, resting his head on your shoulder as you watched the stars together, “ah, viltrum… haven’t you heard of it before?” you questioned, head tilted into his. you couldn’t wait to report back in a few years, couldn’t wait to tell everyone about how you’d found nolan and he hadn’t been killed… but mark would’ve been heartbroken. you couldn’t do that to him, not yet at least, it seemed cruel. plus, he had no idea what a viltrumite was, though your pride as a viltrumite felt attacked as you’d figured his father hadn’t even mentioned mark’s background to him.
you told tall tales about how you’d created the best civilisation, how your kind helped other planets and those less fortunate… you’d tell him the truth eventually, you’d have to seeing as you wanted to keep mark for as long as human lifespans allowed you to. he would open his mouth and his eyes would widen in awe, saying something about how you were like a character from his comic books which made you nod in turn, the conversation slowly changing to the subject of the comic book he’d been talking about. before you met mark, you would’ve probably never been able to experience life in such a human way. before it felt as if you had no sense of individuality, now it felt like you couldn’t stop being yourself even if it was a little alien to you.
#💬 sparkie is typing…#mark grayson x reader#invincible x reader#fem reader#viltrumite!reader#💬🙈cheekiechops anon is typing…
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IT IS FINALLY DONE!
God, this took me way too long...xD
After days of work I finally finished the challenge that I set for myself: Sending out props to a lot of artist here on tumblr that I really enjoy! (Actually there are way waaay more people, but I really had to set myself a limit, I'm sorry fellas ;w; I still love you!)
These people inspire me every day with their creative concepts, stories, humor and passion for art and give me the drive to continue drawing myself. With this little collection I wanted to say "thank you" for all that you do and create. You rock, guys!
(I really hope I didn't mess up any of the tags and I apologize if I might fu**ed up your designs/characters ;3; I know I'm not the best in proportions and all, but I really tried. <w<´´ Also I really hope Tumblr compresses the text by itself, so that you don't get smacked by this wall of text. I'm still a rookie on tumblr, so I don't know what to do ;w;)
Okay, heeere we go! THE TAGS!
@tv-tower / @uuberwachen - with PB aka Swap Pizzahead (I really love the idea of the au and adore the character designs. PB sure is one of my favorites -w- He is literally the most reasonable of them all XD)
@technically-a-kiwi - with Cosmic Peppino ( The design of Cosmic Peppino is simply beautiful and the idea that this chef has strong star powers and needs to take care of Cosmic Noises shenanigans is super funny to me XD )
@sirtotallynotatimetraveler - with Mel Sproutbloom / Sagebloom (I'm sorry, I wasn't sure which name is canon ;w;) ( I loooove Mel! He is such a gentle, colorful guy and looking at him makes me all happy <3 )
@alextydaisuda123 - with their version of Vigilante ( I can't repeat enough how much I adore their artstyle. I love Vigi's design the most. I don't know it's just...THAT'S Vigi for me, you know? Simply fitting, cool, but also stylish -w- )
@alice-the-demon - with Vittoria ( I was first thinking of drawing Archangel Peppino, since this guy is the softness itself, buuuut I have to admit that I love the lively and passionate personality of Vittoria. She is great -w- )
@misdreavusplush - with Eyelashes ( I can't help it. I saw that character and was in awe. How adorable can you be?? I was barely able to draw her eyes as pretty as they are xD <3 )
@creature-of-pizza - with Pepp ( Seriously, the idea to see a "Fake Peppino" with more cat dna is such a win for me. He is dynamic, sassy, derpy and so damn cool! >w< Also love how colorful their pictures are.)
@eskariolis-con-salsa - with Gnocchi (I was thinking about drawing their version of Fake Peppino first, but...*looks at picture* ...let's be honest, you can't get pass that little guy. ;w; He purifies my soul. Have some soap, little guy.)
@oddpizza - with Caramel Jam aka CJ (Such a creative and powerful character! I've seen so many artworks of them and I adore them. You need more joyful people like this ^^)
@pizza-tower-secrets - with Lycheecheechee ( A small, adorable bundle full of surprises and of course secrets! I love their drive and colorful design. Simply a delight! :3 )
@rhaytronik - with Red ( A dynamic and enjoyable character with their love for adventures! Not only a great character but also the Pizzasona of my best friend. Thanks to them I was brave enough to start a tumblr account myself. So thank you for being there for me <3 )
@cutechan555 - with Mage Gustavo (To be honest, I had a very hard time to pick a character here, since their account is full of stories and ideas. I chose mage Gustavo, since I love his design and story. I'm currently into "Delicious in Dungeon" and to imagine that he goes dungeon crawling with his bros to safe Peppino is such a cool idea XD)
@bigbeastcyruspt - with Trion (I have to be honest, at first I was very startled of Trion, since his design is very mighty and scary. I mean, it's his chase form after all. But the more I learned about him, the more I grew to like him. Very damn cool design! Also couldn't help to add dah baby ;w;)
@lunar-dal - with Pizza Cruise Peppino (Another au I simply adore! The design of the characters is colorful and bright, and to imagine Peppino as a singing gondolier brings me great joy. Also I'm a big fan of otter Brick ;w; )
@smalltimidbean - with Pea Pod, Sugar Snap Pea and Snow Pea (Believe me, I never before had such a hard time to pick ONE of so many wonderful Peppi clones! THAT was torture XD But in the end I guess I picked my favorite. Such a tired, but very cute one. Not to forget about the little ones <3 To draw a PT character with 4 fingers and 2 thumbs on one hand was quite a challenge lol )
@tinderboxofsillyideas - with Coffee Peppino (Probably one of the most adorable au versions of Peppino. Seriously, if I had the chance to get my coffee in his café, I totally would! Give that guy all the tips! <3 First thought of drawing their wizard Peppino version, but the adorable barista won lol)
@xbeih - with Metal Peppino (One of the first au's I started following. Seriously, how cool can one person be?? I mean, the whole au is amazing and I enjoy every person in it. But damn...Peppino takes the cake. ówo He is so badass, you can't imagine <w< Also I'm very sorry, it was my first time drawing a guitar and aaaaaaa )
.....*looks left and right* ...ok, we did it. Wow!
God, I'm exhausted now...XD
Well, thank you very much for reading and sorry for the wall of text ówq I can only recommend you to check these people out. They are all very talented and should be appreciated!
Have a pleasant morning / day / evening / night everyone. (Depending your timezone lul .w. )
See ya next time! Vivi out!~
#pizza tower#pizza tower fanart#fanart#pizza tower oc#art gift#god I hope the tags are ok like this#help I'm nervous to post this#ahhh#;w;
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I think about Deliah/Jessie/James poly so much dude. Hanamusashipping and Rocketshipping are both phenomenal in their own ways, so I think it's a fun concept to combine the two! You have fully convinced me that Deliah is a lesbian, especially with the whole "turned down *hundreds* of men" like my goodness! Wonder what got her into a relationship with Ash's dad... there's potential for angst there but I can't bring myself to put that on her. But let me propose a concept: Queerplatonic James and Deliah. I would love to see more lil comics and stuff of them together running Deliah's restaurant (which... do we know what the name of that is?), just being remarkably on the same wavelength with aesthetics, food prep, all that stuff. They'd be such cuties! I think it'd be sweet for the two of them to have another person to open up towards about their pasts and insecurities and stuff. James has had to let go of pokemon he cared for a lot (so has Jessie of course, but tbh I can only recall Arbok and Dustox, while James let go of at least Weezing, Chimeco, and Cacnea? Does Growlie count too? I'm not sure... Mimikyu and Mareanie are a lil different since they hang out with Bewear and Stufful, and the whole Alola bit of Journeys emphasized that TR visits them). But he can empathize a lot with how Deliah does support Ash's travels, but at the same time feels guilty for not being "enough" for him, y'know? James had to let Chimeco stay with his grandparents because it was just far too sickly, and Gardenia was able to see potential in Cacnea that James knew he couldn't bring out as much as he tried. But he doesn't doubt that his pokemon know he loved them dearly, and they all wish each other the best uwu. There's just a lot of cute fun for the dynamic. Jessie goes from being unlucky in love to getting *two* wonderful partners. Ash gets a second step-dad, and it's the other guy who tried to kidnap his pet mouse lmao. Ash understanding James' bottlecap collection because it's kinda like his collection of gym badges, or the two of them making a whole powerpoint to show Deliah evidence that Jessies' contest and performance personas are still her. Ash, Pikachu, and Meowth seeing James, Jessie, and Deliah all cozy on the couch, and they all just look at each other like "ew" before running in and interrupting the moment™.
YAAAA this is so cute! Delia and James would have a really fun dynamic. I unfortunately have not done as much with them as I'd like to (i haven't done as much with this au as i'd like to in general lol) but whenever I think about potential ideas or situations, I always imagine them being there for one another and being able to tell each other anything~
Oh and the restaurant is canonically called Masara House (or in english Pallet House)
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I saw somewhere that if it Jax was in a relationship he would probably be a top because he's the guy who is actively looking for a reaction.
I mean I know not much of relationship dynamic but I'm sure people envision him to be a bottom cause they can't stand Jerk characters.
Either way it just open my vision in some previous fictional relationship. I still stand on my point on Jax being the one confused and afraid when it comes to relationship cause he has no idea on how to handle them for it deals with emotions that he keeps them sealed and locked away.
I do wanna see someone tackle that. Either way it's just me rambling on things cause I can't keep it down on paper. I also feel like it aligns with his character since Jax suffers from toxic masculinity problem, he would want to take charge and provide I think?
Edit: this is OC but bear with me now, just something that came onto my head, can we push the narrative of Jax being a top? You don't have to push the narrative that he's a good top, but he's someone who tries to be better if he's in a genuine loving relationship.
I feel like it can Coraline with the narrative of him trying to do good in a relationship he happens to be in and it's can be much more effective story telling.
This is all oc but bear with me here.
You have this guy who people hate and have no idea how to handle emotions not for himself but with others so he communicates in a language that is harmful and he sees it as a game.
He's quite dominate at that said language, I feel like if he's going to be in a relationship he's force to explore those emotions that he kept bottled for so long and instead of him being an active dick. He's trying he's best to be romantic, he's takening strives to change not only in himself but for the person that gave him that chance. Yada yada.
You get to tackle Jax in a situation that he'll never normally want to be in. He took action in being a dominate dick, now he's taking action to fix his mistake and to be better. I'm not saying that he's doing great but it can be a good start.
Yeah yeah this is again all oc from the beginning, this is a suggestion. I know I'm implying "soft Jax" but I feel like it's some good concept when dealing with things.
I know people would just prefer the sassy energy that the current Jax have rn.
Either way this is just me rambling
#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc jax#jax#gooseworx#characterization#it was supposedly just shitposting at first by my head#think about it#bunnydoll#jax x zooble#funnybunny#funnygummy#ribbun#abstrabbit#relationship dynamics#character development#fanfic#oc
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conformity in stranger things
(as we see it through the characters of steve, dustin and eddie)
dustin meets steve while steve is already heading down his own path — he’s leaving behind ideas about high school and relationships, and figuring out who he is without them.
steve, by season two, had already become disillusioned with the idea of high school, and power struggles, and being the most popular guy in school. which is why he doesn’t react to billy’s taunts.
despite what the fandom may have you believe, steve’s seasons long arc about his struggle with conforming to the person people expect him to be is done.
don’t get me wrong, steve is still hanging onto some ideas in s2, like pretending you don’t care to get girls, and seeing nancy as different to all his other girlfriends (though i personally think that speaks more to steve’s prior relationships than the way he views woman).
and so, dustin and their friendship play a major role in steve fully moving on from the concept of ‘conforming’. steve doesn’t want to change who he is to get people to like him, or love him!
and with dustin, he doesn’t!!!
they make up dorky handshakes, and give each other advice. they talk about girls and steve teaches him how to achieve his signature hairstyle.
their relationship impacts both boys, but neither of them are conforming. it’s pretty much the exact opposite!!! despite what some fans would have you believe steve and dustin have a positive impact on each other!!!
dustin doesn’t change who he is to impress steve! he’s just as dorky as before, and in fact imparts some of that dorkiness onto steve!! steve and dustin help each other to find who they are, and figure themselves out.
on the other hand.
eddie had a negative impact on dustin.
dustin in s3 is dorky. he likes science, and school, and building great big radio towers up hills.
dustin in s4 is failing classes, treating friends like shit, his hubris is at an all time high; all aided by eddie’s high opinion of himself and ideas about conforming.
see. when eddie talks about conforming, he doesn’t really understand what he’s talking about (which is why his fans don’t either).
when he criticised people for ‘conforming’, all he’s really talking about is people being interested in things he doesn’t like. parties. band. science. basketball. he looks down on them all.
he makes snap judgments, and reduces them down to stereotypes. we literally watch him learn this on screen!!!
we literally watch as he verbally recognises that he knew nothing about steve, and yet reduced him down to his interest in basketball.
and here’s where the irony comes in. eddie is literally leading the club on conformity.
everyone in hellfire wears the exact same thing, and he makes fun of the clothes they used to wear. he seats himself on a thrown, and judges anyone that wishes to come before him before he deems them worthy to play a game. he’s not accepting all losers. he’s literally telling them they’re lesser than as he stands on tables in the cafeteria, and then fights against erica playing with them… just because he thinks she has to prove herself to him first.
that’s the point of eddie’s character!! that his whole big speech at the beginning of the season is wrong. and we literally see how he’s wrong scenes later when eddie interacts with chrissy.
people watch eddie learn and grow as a person, and then reduce his character right back down to who he was when he was first introduced.
tl;dr — if one of dustin’s relationships is about conformity, it’s his friendship with eddie, not steve. his brother dynamic with steve is about the complete opposite. about reaching across dumb nerd v jock social divides and finding a family.
in looking up to eddie, dustin has let his other interests fall to the wayside. he’s snarkier, makes fun of steve more (just like he’s been watching eddie mock jocks for months), his friendships with the rest of the party are at an all time low.
and yet. some people would have me believe this is dustin’s truest self? who gets his mormon girlfriend to hack into his school because he’s failing latin. who mocks steve for ‘wanting to be a hero’ when just the season before he was prepared to die by steve’s side.
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