#you have no idea how much I love this man

[tpwk-formula1]

Could you please write a story where lando x reader have basically 'adopted' keegan (even tho he's like 3 yrs younger than them) and she hates whenever they make him do dangerous stuff

AN: SPECIAL EXTRA FLUFF POST!!!! (I know I said I wasn't gonna post a fluff this week but this came in and I got too excited so I quickly wrote it before work! NOT proof read!

OMG stop I absolutely love this idea!! I stopped writing a fic to get this one started! I did switch timelines just a big to make the story work so pretend the video on Quadrant where Keegan tried Karting for the first time happened after summer break!

TW: NONE

WC: 1.1K

Y/N POV

"Keegs, have you eaten anything today?" I ask walking up to him with the sandwich I had made for him before we had left for the yacht day.

"I had breakfast," he says softly knowing we had eaten over 6 hours ago and he had been outside all day in the sun.

"Keegan, you're an athlete stop being stupid," I laugh while tossing him the sandwich which he great fully took and started eating it.

"He's a grown man, love. Let him live," Lando tells me softly while approaching me from behind and taking me into his hold.

"You too Norris, sit down and eat," I say while passing him the second sandwich which has him groaning but instantly sitting next to Keegan and starts eating his sandwich.

"Whipped," I hear Max Fewtrell say from somewhere else on the yacht making me shake my head and threaten him with the last sandwich in hand.

"You and P are such moms," Max rolls his eyes while taking the food from me and sitting next to his best friend.

Over the last year or so the friendship between Lando and Keegan had grown from more than just a sponsored athlete to a truth friendship. When the younger boy started coming around it was almost instant that my motherly instincts kicked in with him.

I mean hell when he called us after winning gold at the Paris Olympics I hadn't stopped crying from podium. He still laughs about it and even pokes fun but he has also on multiple occasions expressed how thankful he to have Lando and I in his life.

Once the yacht day has come to an end we make our way back to the house we had rented for the week.

"We're going cliff jumping tomorrow, do you guys want to come?" Martin's friends asked the rest of us when we had made it back to the house.

"No," I instantly say a long with P while all the boys instantly say "yes" making me look directly at them.

"Have you all lost your damn mind? 1 of you is in contract for racing which mind you comes back in just a few weeks and the other just came off of Olympic gold, you need to be fucking careful," I start ranting while Martin starts laughing at the group dynamic not expecting anything less from us.

"It's fine, we'll be fine," Lando reassures me making me me shake my head.

"Get Zak's approval and then it's fine," I say with a smirk and a little shoulder shrug knowing his boss would lose his ever living mind if he found out his young driver is trying to do something so dangerous.

"Please! I promise we wont get hurt," Lando begs giving me his puppy dog eyes I have never been able to say no to, a long with Keegan behind him giving me the same look.

"Okay fine, but I swear to God if you get hurt," I say while pointing a finger before the two boys.

With that the broke out in bright smiles and Lando instantly took me into his arms and places a few kisses on my lips.

We're now coming to the end of our trip when Lando and I are relaxing in bed having some much needed downtime when a knock rings out through our room.

"Come in," I call out grabbing my bookmark and putting the book I was reading to the side.

When Keegan walks in he has a nervous expression written all over his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask sitting up a bit taller making Lando sit up a bit more noticing the serious expression written across the younger man's face.

"Can I ask for some advice?" Keegan says while walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Of course, you can sit on the bed," I say laughing a little when I noticed him awkwardly standing near the end of the bed.

"So I've been talking to this girl," Keegan starts while sitting on the bed.

"Aye! My man," Lando says excitedly while dapping Keegan up making his cheeks grow even redder.

"Well anyways, her name is Ella and we've been talking for awhile and I want to make it official but I'm nervous she might say no and I also need ideas on how to plan the perfect date to ask," Keegan admits making me smile. While it might have been Lando's first time hearing about about Ella, Keegan had already come to me about her and from what I had gathered he really liked her and she seemed really sweet.

After about an hour of planning the most perfect date for Keegan to take Ella on he thanked up both before leaving the room with a bright smile on his face.

"That's my son for real," Lando says laughing making me shake my head with a laugh falling from my lips.

"He's such an awesome kid," I reply back before cuddling closer into Lando's side.

"Did you pull the same move on Carlos when you where asking me out," I tease with a smirk on my face.

"Maybe," Lando admits with his cheeks reddening.

It's been a few weeks since summer break and we already have a week off from racing which means it's time to film for Quadrant and as we pull up to the track both Lando and Max have been suspiciously quiet about what we will be filming.

When we pull up to the track I see Keegan almost instantly making everything click for me.

"No! He is not about to hope in a kart without any training!" I say sternly making Max laugh and Lando turn and give me a reassuring smile.

"He's fine, he can drive a car, he can drive in a few circles on a kart," Lando says but it just makes me groan and throw my head back.

Lando did end up giving Keegan a small run down before filming and once he was in the first Kart I could already feel my stomach drop. He was going as fast as his car will allow him to go but you can see the difference between Lando's control of the Kart and his control but after the first lap he was able to adjust and already looked more comfortable.

As the karts got faster the more I go stressed. Keegan was clearly having an amazing time in the karts but my anxiety is going through the roof.

By the end of the video it is clear to all of us that Keegan loved every moment of it and even asked the next time he could drive one.

When the video was posted fan instantly clung to the fact that I was like a mom to Keegan. I mean an entire compilation was made where it was every moment I made a comment, face, or gasp throughout the short video making fans across F1 laugh at the endearing moments between friends.

------

Sorry it feels a bit rushed I just loved the idea and might even circle back around in the future and add to the story

[tbaluver]

HEYYYYYY

I reeeeaaalllyyyy love your father/husband headcannons and I’ve been pondering about how the lad boys would treat mc if she was pregnant?

Hope you have time to do it, but it’s completely fine if you don’t want to!!! <3

I love your work and your kindness! Keep up the amazing work and happy new years!!

How They Treat You When You're Pregnant- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: HIHI again my angel !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this req reminds me of my first headcanon i ever did for this fandom and i feel like this one is a more accurate one (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i am always grateful to hear you guys love my work thank you so much luv MWAH ILY !! it always motivates me to write and create more for you all and i hope you're having a happy new years so far !! hopefully i did this req justice lmk what you think !! ahh i hope we get to chat again and i hope you enjoy reading luv (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Pregnancy can make sleeping uncomfortable for you and whenever you’re feeling restless, he’s always right there by your side. Whether it’s waking up to comfort you, watching your favorite show together to help you unwind, or adjusting pillows to help you find a comfortable position for you, he’s happy to help. He’ll patiently wait until you’re sleeping peacefully first before he settles back right beside you.

He also doesn’t let you put on an scary movies or shows because you might scare the baby

His face would light up when he hears you want to try one of his favorite weird snack combos. Highlight the word, snacks, because you’re definitely not letting him cook near the microwave or stove.

Xavier is even more protective of you than before, if that’s even possible. Whenever someone gives you a lingering glance in the baby aisle, he’s keeping you close, his arm securely around your waist while giving that person a glance back. When you’re out in public, he doesn’t let anyone get close to your belly bump. Before they can even reach out, he’s already stopping their hand and gently guiding you away.

Xavier attends every doctor’s appointment with you. However,  he does NOT like the idea of going to the OBGYN especially if it were a male doctor. You two would be out of the room immediately. However, if you're uncomfortable with any of the doctors in general, he’ll gladly switch and find a better one for you without a second thought. 

He’s constantly seeking out new information on pregnancy and babies he can find and has probably read every single online article. He does all of this because he’s determined to learn everything he can to care for you and your future child.

If it were even possible, Xavier would be even gentler with you. He talks softly to your belly, his hands resting gently on your hips as he presses his ear against your stomach, listening and waiting for any movements of your future child. As long as you’re comfortable, he’ll lay down between your legs, his face against your belly while you run your fingers through his soft hair. He’ll mostly fall asleep in this position

Zayne:

Zayne would already notice the subtle signs that you were pregnant before you even realized. He’d pick up the sudden fatigue you’ve been feeling or the way you’ve been extra sensitive to smells. He’s already by your side, holding your hair back as you kneel by the toilet, vomiting. He’ll guide you back to bed, making sure you stay sitting up while he grabs you a couple crackers and a cup of tea.

Zayne is truly an organized and prepared man. He keeps track of everything, noting it down on both his and your phone so that you both have access to all the important details and reminders. He has every date for your checkups, ultrasounds, and any other appointments that are related to both your health and the baby’s. He even makes sure to keep track of which foods are safe for you and which ones to avoid. He’ll keep all the important documents in a file and even keep pictures of the ultrasounds on his desk. Zayne would also have a bag prepared months before your water breaks.

He would let you indulge in anything you crave, as long as it’s safe for you and the baby. He goes the extra mile to prepare you each meal with care and love, making sure that every dish nourishes you and supports the health of your future child. Zayne would have to gently discourage you to not eat dirt covered rocks if you were thinking of craving them. He would also ask his mother some tips when she was pregnant with him. 

A surgeon's hands are trained to be precise and steady which makes him the perfect person to give you a massage. With practice care and skill, he’s able to help you release the tension in your muscles, easing every knot and carefully tending to each sore spot. He would not mind if you sat on his lap and guided his hands to your aching breasts or any sore muscle. He'll happily knead and massage them.

You would always know his schedule, so you’re aware when he has to work late. To make sure you’re taken care of when he’s working, he’d stock up on your favorite snacks and meals, making sure to place them within places you can easily reach. Throughout his shift, he’d check in on you during his breaks, texting to ask if you’ve eaten and drank enough water. He’d also make sure to call you during his lunch break just to make sure you’re doing okay and also because he misses you.

Mood swings are a nightmare and not once have they ever bothered him. Zayne is one of the best listeners to any of your worries and also in general. He understands your fears, concerns, and even the times when you overreact. He’s always there to offer you constant reassurance and to take down any fear you had. He would never belittle your emotions and always prioritizes you with unwavering support.

Unfortunately there are nights when he has to come home late, already finding you peacefully asleep in your shared bed. He can’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a soft smile displayed on his face. Quietly, he approaches your sleeping figure, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and then to your lips. His hands delicately trace the curve of your rounded belly before pressing a gentle kiss to it, whispering, “Good job, you didn’t wake up mommy.”

Rafayel:

The studio would ACTUALLY be clean. You’re not really sure if he stopped being lazy or if he hired someone, probably Thomas, to take care of it for him. The floor would be clear of scattered art materials, dried up paint, and the desks would actually be organized. All so you don’t accidentally step or slip on anything or have anything poking or rolling onto your belly when you sit by his desk.

Rafayel is prepared when it comes to baby names. He actually keeps an organized list in his notes app, with his favorites marked by an emoji so he can easily find them. Each name on the list has its own meaning and references. The two of you would cuddle up in bed, sharing new name ideas and laughing at the ones you can’t pronounce, making sure to cross off the ones that didn’t make the cut.

Mood swings were completely new to Rafayel and to you but he quickly learned to keep up with them. He understands that these emotions aren’t easy for you, so he’s always there, even when you need space. He’s always ready to listen and offer support through every high and low and will be there to lift your spirits up whenever you need him.

Sometimes insecurities can weigh on you and you might feel like hiding your baby bump especially when it feels like the maternal clothing isn’t quite your style. But Rafayel is always there and never fails to remind you just how beautiful you are. He’ll go above and beyond to find the perfect maternity clothes that match your taste.

Rafayel would want to document everything so you both have memories to look back on. He’ll take countless pictures of your growing belly each month, capturing the progress so you can look back on how much has changed. He’ll even create his own little maternity photoshoot for you because no other photographer can capture your beauty like him.

Rafayel loves gently caressing your baby bump, often talking to it, hoping that they can hear him. He’ll throw out random names, saying things like, “give me one soft kick if you dun like this name, two kicks if you realllly love it!” and if there was a quiet moment, he’ll say “it’s okay maybe baby glubs is just sleeping.” So he’ll just hum to you and your belly a Lemurian lullaby so you can all drift off into a peaceful slumber.

One of his favorite things to do is preparing a relaxing bath for you. He fills the tub with warm water and adds calming scents, making sure they’re not overpowering, and a few bubbles to help you unwind and soothe any aches or tensions. As he gently washes your body, his hand gently glides over your growing belly, washing away the soap as he imagines the three of you one day swimming together in the ocean as a family.

Sylus:

Every time you wake up or whenever he walks through the door after a long day, he greets you with the sweetest affection. First, a gentle kiss on your forehead, then a soft on your lips, accompanied by a “Hello sweetie,” His eyes then soften as he looks down, his hands gently caressing your baby bump, “and hello our little dove.”

You can always expect pampering from Sylus. He’s right by your side with endless shoulder, back and leg rubs. He can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must feel growing a little one inside of you and how much it takes out, so he’s determined to ease any discomfort in every way possible. He’s learned how pregnancy can change your sense, so he’s careful to use any lotions or oils with certain scents, avoiding anything that could make you feel nauseous or unsettled.

Whenever you have trouble sleeping, he’s there to gently prop up some pillows to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. He’ll go through his vinyl collection, picking out your favorite or ones that will help you unwind and relax.

He loves you deeply and he knows you’re capable of being independent but he does not want you lifting a finger once your baby bump starts to grow. Even in your early stages of pregnancy, he gently encourages you to take it easy, reminding you that you don’t need to push yourself. With the doctor’s advice to rest often, he’s got all the reasons he needs to insist that you relax. Not a single in the house will be washed by your hands and no clothing will be folded by you. He wants you to relax as much as possible and focus on yourself and your little one.

It’s not hard to wake up Sylus. In fact, he’s already awake before you slip out of his arms to satisfy your late night cravings. Quietly, he trails behind you, wrapping his arms around you. His large hands rest on your tummy as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, his warm chest gently against your back. He already memorizes your cravings at this point unless it was something new, so he guides you to the chair by the kitchen counter. “What are you hungry for, sweetie?”

In your early stages of pregnancy, shopping for your baby was fun and something you both enjoyed planning together. But by the time you reached your third trimester, the long walks were beginning to wear you out. So he suggested online shopping together. He didn’t want you to feel left out and he loved seeing your face light up when you found something adorable for the baby, even if it was another plushie to add to the collection. The two of you would settle in on the bed or the couch, face masks on , hair tied back, happily chatting and laughing about the cutest finds and everything the baby needed.

Every doctor’s appointment, he’s right by your side. He’ll hold your hand the entire time, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles. He knows how nerve-wracking these visits can be, especially the anticipation of any results. But just having him there by your side brings your comfort and reminds you that you're never facing it alone.

In general and throughout your pregnancy, he’s always been someone you can lean on. With all the emotions and changes in your body, he’s there to listen and offer comfort. He becomes your safe space where you can express yourself openly with no hesitation.

He can’t deny that he secretly loves being called a to-be- dad’ by Luke and Kieran. There’s a smile that never seems to leave his face, knowing that he will be the father of your child and to experience a new form of love together as a family.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

His. | The Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: You were his, a shame some men did not get the memo.

Warnings: Canon violence - Possessive!Salesman  - Violent!Salesman - Jealous!Salesman - Simp for his wife - Slut Shaming (not reader) - A man being a creep - The Salesman getting quiet creative with the games - grammar mistakes -

The Salesman loves his wife, he loves her so much that he would burn Seoul down just for her.

He hates when others get her attention, your attention, you are his after all. Why do you need to meet up with your parents ? Dont they trust that He is taking well care of you ? Why does your friends wants a night out without their S/Os ? Does they want to be whores and cheat ? You woulnt ever do that to him!! You are smitten and down bad for him.

He has worked so hard to make you fall for him and his well composed self. You never once saw his dark side, his emotions were always under control when he was with you. He only showed you his good side, the side that was deep down locked only for you.

Would it bee too cheesy to say you had the key for his heart ? Probably, but that was the truth. No one could pull him away from his dark ideas, only you, he just needed to see your name on his phone to light up his mood.

And he knows he has his own failures, being possessive over you its one of them. But he cant help it, you are after all an amazing woman. Everyone should bow down to you when you pass them. The Salesman has to calm down his anger when he sees just the smallest disrespect towards you. He is already making plans on how he would take revenge for you.

But he cant go on killing every person that bothers him. Not because he does not want to do it. No, he would love to. But because it would attract too much attention and last thing he wants its you being under stress or having a police on his tail.

However there are things that just crosses the line, makes him see red and think:

When was the last time I played a game with someone ?

And god knows he does not mean an innocent game.

But what was going on that was pulling on his nerves?

Well, the spring season had just started and you being the lovable creature wanted to go out towards a well known park to see the new flowers.

He agreed, anything for his wife. He even looked up which day would be the best one to go and see all the new flowers. Not that he cared for these, no. He wanted to see your smile and that spark in your eyes. That was what he wanted.

And of course you had dress beautiful for it, part of him was temped to just stay home and show you how much he loved you in more carnal ways. But he decided to let that for the night.

The park was as expected full of peopel of all ages. Three times he had moved to the side to avoid being crashed by a kid, and three times you had give the parents a polite smile and a few words to not worry about it.

Hand in hand you two walked around. Besides the flowers there were sellers, ballooms, sweets, water, even umbrellas.

"Love can you get me a bottle of water? Oh! And ice cream?" You asked pointing at two stalls.

He nodded giving you his signature smile kissing your cheeck and telling you not to move that he would be back soon.

Saddly the ice cream took more time since there was a small line. He kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure you were alright. And for the most part you were, sitting there looking down at your phone (probably telling your friend group about your date, well he will check that later).

"What flavor Sir?"

He told the seller the flavor you wanted, pay for it and waited taking another look at you, a small smile on his face-

Only to be wipped out at the new sight.

A Man, maybe younger than him was sitting right next to you. Talking to you, smiling at you, being too close to you.

Who does that Man think he is ?

He cant help it, he is jealous, knows you wont ever go behind his back. You were his, his wife and only his. Why others seemed to not get the message?

"Sir?.."

Fuck, he must have stared for too long and looking a bit too agressive because now the seller was almost trembling as he was giving him the ice cream.

Just as he was having a death stare it went back to his polite self, taking the ice cream and going towards you.

The closer he got, the angrier he felt. That Man, no, that fucking worm was even closer now. He did not need to know what he was saying to you, his body language gave it away.

And so did yours. You were not liking it. If you being almost on the corner of the bench was not enough then your face was a clear give away.

But some men are pathetic and even when they can see the ring on your finger they wont back off.

Scum of life, this one would not live.

"Im married, and im getting uncomfortable. You should leave"

Oh your voice, like an angel it almost made him feel at ease.

Almost.

"Dont be like that baby, I just asked for your number, and I dont mind sharing"

Well he did mind. In fact he never liked sharing. And even less when it comes to you. You and sharing does not go in the same prhase, hell no.

He catches your eyes and can see the ask for help. And so he is finally there, whatever that excusme ot a human was going to say its cut off by his polite cold tone.

"Sorry my love, there was a line. I got you water and your favorite flavor" He says ignoring the man and giving you the items.

"And who may you be?" He asks his fake polite smile showing. He is towering over him. Making him feel small and smaller.

If he could, he would snap his neck here.

"Uhh, no one important. Sorry I will leave now" The namelss man says standing up and bowing, but before he can go the Salesman takes his arm rather harshly.

"I insist, you kept my wife company while I was gone after all.

And like that, thinking that he is fooling him he gets his name.

The Salesman nods and thanks him before taking your arm to start walking to the opposite side of the park.

"He came- I did not want to make a scene" You start, not scared of him but feeling rather bad because you are covinced he feels bad.

"No. Its my fault. I left you alone for too long, a beautiful woman as yourself should never be alone. Dont worry, you are with me now" He says kissing your head. "Eat your ice cream before it melts or did that exchange leave you with a bad feeling?"

Fucker he would pay for ruining his wife day.

"A bit...but you got it for me, so I will eat it" You said smiling up at him.

His heart flutters, you would do anything for him. He knows it. Maybe not like the same things he would do for you, but he knows you would push whatever thing or person aside if it means making him happy.

His dear wife.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Park Beolle" The Salesman said the mans name in a cold tone walking behind him. "Your parents did not like you a lot right? I cant blame them, you stole money from them multiple times" The Salesman said.

"This is not for them, its because you ruined my wife's day. And did not respect her. So I must punish you, I dont expect someone like you to understand"

Park Beolle stood there, hands tied behind his back, heels tied up together as well, a tape over his mouth. In front of him multiple bear traps stood.

The Salesman took out his loved gun "If you manage to cross the room within twenty seconds then you will live but I you fail"

He stood besides him gun on his own head a sick smile on his face.

"I will shoot you, and it goes without saying that you will have to jump. Ready?"

The Salesman saw the poor display of ability seeing him get his feets inside one of the bear traps making him fall, another one closing.

The tape muffled his screams but the Salesman kept watching him and the time.

"And up" His voice was a sing song tone, like he was happy about it.

The sound of the gun fired was everything that was left. Blood soaked the bloor.

"Ah, im going to be late. I need to clean this, well I hope my dear wife waits for me" He said taking a napkin and cleaning his face. "I will call her just in case"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

For the first time The Salesman came to his house with you already sleeping. He had kept you on call for one hour with the excuse of him doing some papel work.

"Eh? Metal sound?" He had say carrying the bear traps "I think you are getting sleepy my love, or maybe it was this stapler"

He smiled softly at your sleep form. Not even aware of the monster he was, to you he was a loving dotting husband. Nothing more and nothing else.

"Sleep well my love, I love you"

The now clean blood from his face and hands were a seal of it.

[chuulyssa]

──── ★ DRUGS SUCK IT UP LIKE VANILLA ICYS the recruiter x reader ────

starring the recruiter x detective!reader count 2.3k genre 18+ dark themes, yandere, stalking, kidnapping, gunplay, smut

notes I'LL KEEP EDITING THIS AND ADDING MORE SHIT WHENEVER I GET HORNY !!! make sure to keep tapping in lol notes wanted to write smth non horny but gong yoo just had to deepthroat that gun 🙂‍↔️ wrote this at 2am and i have my practicals tmr

You had no idea when you had lost track of him. One minute, you had been following his step through the bustling train station, and the next, your vision had blurred, and a sharp pain had shot at the base of your skull.

You didn’t know how long it had been since then. You opened your eyes, immediately shutting them back due to the sudden appearance of light to them. The scent of cigarette smoke filled your nostrils, and your tongue tasted blood.

You wriggled, trying to move your arms, but your hands had been tied behind your back, ankles tied to the legs of the chair you had been made to sit on. You opened your eyes once more. The room was dim with a single light bulb flickering on and off again and again.

“Detective,” a voice cooed at you from behind you.

You snapped your neck up to see his face smiling gleefully, staring down at you with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Imagine my surprise,” he continued, moving away to stand in front of you, “when I realized the pretty lady that had been following me all this while,” he leaned against what you could make out to be a wooden table, “was you.”

His smirk was maddening. You remembered it from all those years ago. The handsome man in a suit, way too overdressed to meet you where he had. The man who had approached you when you were hopelessly drunk in a children’s park, crying about an unsolved case. He had wiped your tears back then, kissed your fears away. You still recall his words.

“Since we’re in a children’s park, how about a children’s game?”

Thank god for the polite refusal of yours, or you would’ve been in the same position as your current client. Seong Gihun. For whom you had been trailing this man for weeks now. The Recruiter.

“Hello? Earth to you, miss?” He snapped his fingers in front of your dazed face, making you jump at the sudden sound. He laughed at you. Then, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the floor, he mocked you. “I had such high hopes for you back then, sweetheart. But you said no,” he pouted, then cackled maniacally at your expression. “I got a kiss though!”

“Shut up,” you hissed.

He chuckled darkly, the sound echoing throughout the small room. Your eyes darted around to check for windows or exits, but you couldn’t find any in the pale lighting. “Aw, you want me to let you go? After you’ve been my little shadow for the past month?”

You looked away, and he only smirked, walking towards you. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it upwards to catch your attention. “You look at me while we’re speaking. Don’t you have manners, love?”

“Don’t call me that,” you scoffed.

“Oh, you don’t want me to call you that? Is that right, love?” He jeered. When you scowled at him, he dropped his smirk. “Oh, come on now. We both know you’re not going anywhere. Come, let’s have a chat, shall we?”

He sat on the floor, his toes lifting him off the ground by themselves. The soles of his shoes clinked, tilting up so that he was mostly leaning onto you.

“It’s so flattering,” he began, “that you spent so much time trying to follow me all this time later. Am I that captivating, Miss Detective?”

“No.”

“Ah, but you are, certainly,” he nuzzled his face into your lap, making you squirm. You tried to close your thighs, but the restraints didn’t allow you to. “I’ve been dreaming of you ever since I saw you that night.”

He hummed, his knees going down to support his stance. He moved his hands to caress the front of your waist softly. “I cried because you were crying. So don’t cry over anything other than me, hm? It makes me so upset.”

He unbuttoned your pants swiftly, and you flinched. He looked up, amused at your reaction. You glared at him, refusing to speak, but the look in your face, the desire in your eyes, even the wetness he could practically smell betrayed you. He tilted his head.

“Still so stubborn,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. You jerked your head away, but the restraint made it futile.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re in my world now, detective. And in my world, we play games.”

He pulled out a revolver from under his suit. The metallic click of the very much real weapon cocking made your breath hitch.

Where did he get that from?

He always managed to surprise you.

“Russian roulette,” he announced dramatically, spinning the cylinder. “You know this, yes? A game of chance. Just like life.”

“You’re fucking insane,” you spat, trying to keep your voice steady, but you could feel it quaking in fear. You were scared now.

“Maybe,” he agreed, stepping behind you and pressing the cold barrel of the gun to your temple. “But aren’t you curious, detective? I am. I’m so so curious. You make me feel it. To crave it. Don’t you see it?”

You closed your eyes. The pressure of the gun against your skin seemed unbearable now. It was as if the nuzzle could pierce through your brain with how he was holding it against you.

“I want to see,” he kissed the top of your head, “just how far you’re willing to go to solve this case.”

I’ll do anything, you thought.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Beg me to stop, but there’ll be consequences then. Or take the risk.”

His voice was a low purr. The gun shifted slightly, trailing down your temple to rest just below your jaw.

“Say the word, and I’ll put it all to an end. No more games. No more questions.” His other hand came up, ghosting over your chest. “But then you’ll have to give me something else in return.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to steady your breathing as he groped your breast through the fabric of your shirt. The room felt too small, the air too thin.

“What’s it going to be, darling?” he teased, the nickname twisting in your gut like a knife. His fingers found your hardened nipple through the fabric, and his lips your neck.

“I...” you started, but your voice cracked. His soft chuckle rumbled against your pulse, sending an unwanted shiver down your spine.

“No shame in fear,” he said, almost kindly. The gun tilted up, tilting your chin with it, forcing you to meet his dark, hungry gaze in the reflection of the mirror in front of you. “Little Miss Detective, found dead in a basement room. Your parents wouldn’t like to hear that now, would they?”

Your eyes widened. He knew. He knew from the start you had been tailing him. He had kept tabs on you, more than you had on him.

“Stop,” you whispered. “Please.”

“Ah, is that the best you can do?” He cooed at you, and your hands clenched into fists.

“Please let me go,” you said, almost angrily, and he threw his head back to laugh.

“That’s not how you say it, dolly.”

You took a deep breath in, feeling your pride crush and fall down around you in bits and pieces. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He repeated in a child-like voice. “Like what?”

“Anything you like.”

His smile grew. “Will you be willing to play a game with me, then?” His hand reached under your shirt to caress your nipple, and you could feel yourself gushing at the touch.

“What game?”

“Hm, let’s see,” he murmured softly, fingers circling around your nipple. “I’ll count down from ten.”

You swallowed hard. “And?”

“And for every second that passes, I’ll take one step closer to you,” he explained, his lips curling into a sly smile. “If you say the safe word, I stop. But…” He picked up the gun, rolling the cylinder lazily before he pointed it to the side and—

BANG !

You shook, trying to cower and hide yourself, but even that was difficult. The aftereffects of the shot echoed in the silence, until it faded away. It made everything seem realer, if that was even possible. He grinned at your reaction. “There will be problems.”

“What problems?”

“That’s for me to decide,” he said simply, leaning forward, the gun still in his hand. “Do you want to play, Miss Detective?”

You hesitated. There was no way out of this room, no way out of his control. And he knew it.

“Good.” He stood, assuming your answer before you even responded. But the gun was still in his hand, and you didn’t dare disobey. He stepped back to the far wall and bumped into a table on the way. Angrily, he kicked the table out of his way, muttering curses all the while. Then his expression softened as he turned to you. “The rules are clear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He began.

“Ten.” The sound of his boots against the floor echoed around.

“Nine.” Another step. His eyes locked onto yours like a predator stalking its prey.

“Eight.” Your hands gripped the edge of the chair.

“Seven.” The gun in his hand wasn’t aimed at you yet, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

“Six.” He was close enough now that you could see the faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Five.” “Wait,” you blurted out.

He paused mid-step, tilting his head. “Wait? That’s not the safe word.” He took another step, closer still. You clenched your jaw, now starting to panic.

He never even gave you a safe word in the first place!

“Four.” He was looming over you now, the barrel of the gun tracing along the edge of the table.

“Three.” “Stop,” you said loudly.

“Two.” The gun was under your chin now, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“One.” He smiled, satisfied, as he crouched down to your level, his face mere inches from yours. “You didn’t use the safe word,” he murmured, the gun tracing along your jawline.

“You didn’t give me one!”

“Details,” he rolled his eyes. “But now, as per the rules, of course…” He kneeled down in front of you again, head tilting down. His hands went up to grip both sides of your waist.

“Wait—”

“Shut up.”

For a moment or two, you didn’t feel anything. That was until his tongue licked a striped against your clothed cunt.

“Ack!” You jumped, trying to push him off you, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Like that?” He nuzzled his face into the wetness, making you shiver. “I haven’t even started yet, baby,” he mumbled. Then, he sank his teeth into your clothed thigh.

You let out a loud cry, hoping that someone — anyone — would hear you. But no one did. No one came.

“Quiet now, dolly.” His teeth chewed at your waistband for a few seconds before pulling it down completely. “Up,” he tapped your waist, and you obediently raised your hips. He pried your pants off you.

“Oh,” he let out a disappointed sigh when he saw that your panties were still covering you. “We’ve got to take this off, hm?” He cooed at you again. “Come on, taking it off for me now.”

“What?”

“I said, take it off.”

“How?” You were taken aback.

“Wiggle wiggle,” he smiled like a dork. Then he sat up and kissed your ear. “I’ll help you with the top till then.”

He helped lift your top over your head directly. Once it was off, his lips immediately latched back onto your cheek. “Panties off, please. Before I rip them apart.”

You nodded and fidgeted for a while, lifting your hips up and down and trying to get the fabric off you. But it wouldn’t budge at all.

“Pathetic,” he said, though he looked at you fondly, as if mocking your vulnerability. Tugging a finger under the waistband of your panties, he peeled the soaked cloth away from your skin easily, patting your waist so you’d lift them up to get it off completely. 

You were exposed to him. Naked from top to bottom except for the bra he somehow hadn’t removed yet. You felt the sudden chill of air against your bare pussy. Your nipples pebbled further. He tossed the underwear aside.

His hands slid along your thighs, spreading them wider. “Beautiful.” His fingers tightened. A hand snaked between your legs, cupping the flesh of your thighs easily. “So wet. Already? You should be ashamed.”

You flushed lightly, trying to come up with a retort. But he shut you up immediately. His middle finger had found its way inside you.

“Fuck—” you groaned, and he snickered.

He wiggled his finger within you, grinding it against your inner walls, pressing firmly on that sweet spot while watching as your face contorted in pleasure.

Your body bucked as he added another finger, stretching you wide open. Then another. And another.

He pulled back suddenly, and you whined.

“Why—?”

“No,” he whispered, standing up. His large frame towered over yours, his hands reaching behind your neck to unclasp your bra. “Such nice tits, dolly.” He squeezed them in his rough palms as if grateful to God for his creations. His thumb brushed across your hardening nipple, teasing the peak into a tighter bud, if that was even possible.

Then he lowered his head, capturing one between his lips and suckling deeply. His tongue flicked expertly at your hardened nipple, nipping lightly.

You could see stars.

Suck. Nip. Twist. Fiddle. Suck. Nip. Twist. Fiddle. Suck. Ni—

He moved onto the other one and did the same.

Fuck was he good at his job.

He left trails of kisses on your chest. Both of them were red and swollen now, and you were left cursing his name in your mind.

“I’ve been playing nice all this while, don’t you think? Let’s make it rougher.”

[jakejeffreyperalta]

this post gets even more important after the live action series because they literally took everything that made sokka such an iconic and important character and scratched it 😭 yes, sexism is bad, but sokka being sexist in the beginning was good for his character because it forced him to grow and change and adapt to the world he was thrown into suddenly (which are all qualities of a leader) and correct the error of his ways and say sorry. it showed the viewers that it IS possible to grow and become a better person, it's just your choice to do it. that's the point !!! that's the fucking point !!! how do you miss it so bad !!! goddddd

the live action believes that "morally correct" or "good" characters cannot be flawed, which is so stupid. sokka being flawed is the POINT of his character !!! his sexism isn't perpetuating sexism, it's there to show how utterly stupid sexism actually is, because he keeps getting proven wrong over and over. and him overcoming his sexism doesn't just happen when someone says "hey man being sexist isn't cool ♡ pls change." it happens after he gets humbled by his sister SO MANY TIMES, then humbled by the kyoshi warriors and suki yet again. it happens when he bows down to suki and begs her to teach him, it happens when he wears the uniform of the kyoshi warriors and wields their weapon, it happens when he is proud of his sister for being stronger than him, instead of ridiculing her. and it's only when he's not sexist anymore that the narrative actually gives him liberty to grow further as a character, which is SOOO interesting, because usually these type of characters are introduced and let go in one or two episodes because they're supposed to be a lesson, but now sokka isn't sexist and there's three seasons left, and it's such a satisfying journey to see him geniuenly grow and become everything he said he was, but actually EARNING it this time.

when you take away the flaws and the imperfections from sokka's character, he's literally nothing, because his character is supposed to tell you that EVERYONE is flawed and a little bit stupid, but it is literally so easy to decide to change and grow. you just have to be brave enough to make that choice. sokka doesn't have powers and he's not a god - which is everything that he's insecure about, but also his biggest strength. him being "normal" lets his character grow and it's PERFECT for him, because he is not bound by anything like godhood or having only one ability to be perfect at - he can do whatever he wants and do it badly, but he can DO IT. he can be an artist, an engineer, an inventor, a swordsman, a poet, a politician, a soldier, a leader, and he doesn't have to be the best at any of these things, which is technically a "flaw" but it also isn't, not when he grows and learns every passing day and becomes BETTER, not when he keeps trying and failing and trying yet again. at the end of the day, he's not the best swordsman, but he's a quick thinker and he's smart, so he can hold his ground. but he's not the smartest person and gets outsmarted and manipulated by someone much younger than him on multiple occasions, but he's adaptable and flexible, so he's fine. he's an inventor, but not the best at actually putting things together, but it's fine, because he's practical and every idea he has is actually doable. is he the best artist? no. is he the best swordsman? no. is he the most strong-willed? no. is he the smartest? no. all of these can be considered "flaws" or "imperfections" but it makes him who he is, and his different capabilities pick up where the others lack, to make him everything he wants to be.

sokka's character is a love letter to the viewers, i think, telling us it's okay to be flawed, to be normal, because you're still loved and accepted and we are so so proud of you for trying.

cannot stress this enough but sokka is literally how u are supposed to handle a comic relief character like he's funny but he's also smart, he's a leader, he's charming and strategic and is respected by everyone. he's allowed to be vulnerable and emotional but that doesn't stop him from being brave and courageous, that doesn't make him any less of a fighter. he's allowed to be himself and flaunt ALL of his qualities. he's allowed to have flaws, but he's allowed to grow and learn to be a better person.

[trashytracktales]

i love that we’re sharing canon stuff so I HAVE MINE. 🤝🏻

lando and reader with a spine tattoo. he will OWN doggy. and he will make you LOVE doggy.

he will make his own priority and aim in life to worship that and be obsessed with it because he’s in complete adoration

High-key shaking in my boots at this one, folks.

First, the type of spine tattoo Lando would be obsessed with: I feel like he’d go crazy for something minimal yet intricate. Based on his helmet designs, maybe something geometric and symmetrical, clean lines that match his love for sleek aesthetics, you know? Something understated but unforgettable. The type that makes him double take every time you turn your back on him. SCREAMING

Now, let me say this louder for the people in the back: 🗣 Lando already owns doggy. It's one of his go-to positions, especially when he just needs to let off steam. This man is not just participating; he’s optimizing. CRYING He also has a technique, and the way I picture it? AW LORDY One knee firmly planted on the mattress while the other knee is up, foot is grounded to give him stability and leverage to grip you just right. It’s the kind of setup that gives him just enough control to hit exactly where he knows will make you lose your mind. THROWING UP And the way he’d alternate between slow, teasing strokes and deep, mind-melting thrusts? GOODBYE

Then, to feel him leaning forward to kiss or bite his way down the length of it, whispering something like, “My favorite view,” or “You have no idea how much this drives me insane.” I WILL SOON COMBUST

Finally, imagine how this man would most likely end up like Pavlov’s dog whenever he catches even a glimpse of that tattoo. Trained to react instantly, he wouldn’t even need full context LMAO. You could be walking past him in a tank top, and the second that tattoo peeks out, it’s game over.

Me, sitting down to touch grass immediately.

Related post.

[hyuckiefluff]

nasty habits | park jisung

pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader

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

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

wc: 20k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[unknownogre]

They say it’s for the betterment of the world. That I’m not a prisoner…that I’m free to wonder in between moments of recovery. Still…this hospital is a prison and I am the most important patient. I am the perfect match for everyone on the planet. My blood, my organs…not a single body will reject them. I’m kept here by the Hero’s league. This is my ‘post’ after registration and trying to do good to help the world, I don’t know what I was thinking.

Do I make money? Not enough. I’m told it is my duty to give and as a member of the Hero’s League that I’m doing my part so wealth shouldn’t be a deciding factor. I’m also blessed with an insane healing factor. They can pull organs out of me once a day as long as they are careful about which ones. If it is the heart, I need a few days to recover. I can’t work out because no matter what the organs are new when they regrow. So even if my arms are stronger, my lungs are new, my heart…its new. I can’t train them to work more efficiently, I can’t get stronger. I suppose that is their plan.

I don’t pick, its congress, house reps…politicians that affect laws that govern how the Hero’s League work. Hell my organs are in the founding members as well. Entire medicine lines have been developed on my blood alone. I’d be worth billions if I held any control over my parts. I’m just worth thousands not that I even get to spend that much. No vacations, no time off…no rest.

…I want to feel better about this. I hate it. If I don’t make money from this, then I’d rather be helping the poor and children. I’m not though. I’m helping fund the League and their greed. Why give me what I’m due when they can just lock me away.

…I want out…I WANT OUT! I WANT OUT!

Then there was a faint explosion…well the first one was faint. The subsequent ones got louder…and closer until the floor shook. I could see smoke billowing from the side of the hospital. I’d was worried for a second but then I realized that the only people here are rich politicians and their families. I can’t be bothered to care anymore. I was just standing by my window, looking upon a city I was ‘saving’ but couldn’t live amongst. If I’m lucky the building will do so much damage to my body I’ll be allowed the sweet release of death…but I doubt I’ll be that lucky.

I could hear fighting in the hall, yes they had guards around me all the time. Said it was for my safety but it has been ten years and no one tried to attack me once…so I was convinced they were put there to make sure I didn’t run. How dare I dream of living on my own right?

I’m curious now as I take a position opposite the door. I wonder what is going on. I know nothing. I don’t have news, or social media…I’m a phantom in this city. A mere whisper of a legend that no one is sure exists. Civil war in the Hero’s League? Random attack on a politician here and I’m to be taken hostage so they can get their freedom? I have no idea. I don’t care really.

“This is the room…he has to be here!”

It was an alto feminine presenting voice. Rather lovely if you ask me. I hate the nurses here, they keep sending in ones they think are ‘pretty’ so I bond with them and want to be more compliant, but their eyes are all the same…distant. They were acting, all of them were acting. No one wants one sided love…I took what I could get but I knew it was empty. I wonder if Sarah survived the initial assault? The door was ripped off the hinged and there was a woman standing nearly seven feet tall with arms and legs like tree trunks covered in Kevlar body armor. She looked DOPE. She stepped aside though and a pair came past her. A man and a woman with themes of purple black and blue in their ‘armor’. The woman floated surrounded by a purple energy and the man had a million different blades all over his body.

“We’d like you to come with us. We are From The Dark League.”

I sighed and just grabbed a water bottle and opened it looking to them. The large woman was looking nervous and the man with the blades looked impatient but the magical woman looked calm.

“Why? Is going with you better than staying here. This cage is gilded ya know?”

I took a sip and the man looked me up and down and then turned away to stand with the large woman by the door. I wasn’t sure if they were a couple or not, I guess just minions. Hell, I don’t know why I’m thinking about such things.

“Well, we know of you and your situation. We’d offer help. In exchange for harvesting your organs once a week, we’ll pay you obscene amounts of money and make sure you are safe. You’ll be under contract for a duration and once that duration is up you’ll be free to do as you choose. How does that sound?”

This woman, this wonderful Witchy woman just said perhaps the most wonderful words I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I was just about to agree too until the wall near where I stood was smashed to bits and the leader of the Hero’s League called Justice stood there in his suit of white and gold. He could fly, was immune to bullets and most physical damage and the only reason there was still crime was because he couldn’t be bothered to actually stop it anymore, I made him more money than he knew what to do with.

“Stop right there Morticia…you won’t take him and I’ll paint the sidewalk with your blood in order to keep him here.”

There was no more show huh? No kind of sympthay. I get it, he’ll kill to keep me here and I don’t know. I thought apathy was my existence, but there was something to be said for the show, the fake emotions. I could pretend that I was doing this for the right reasons, that I was helping. No! I was getting angry. I was a pawn for too long…and as Morticia fired off a few impotent blasts my heart started to hammer in my chest…

…what was this I was feeling. Aside from the pent up rage of a decade of torture and solitary confinement. I felt something from Justice. Something familiar…my eyes locked on him as he approached the increasingly desperate woman. Her minions came in but where brushed aside…no they were killed right away. Not yet, he was going to make an example out of her.

“NO!”

I shouted and held out my hand…Justice stopped cold. I could feel it. I held his heart. No…no it wasn’t his heart it was mine. I HELD HIS HEART IN MY HAND! It was mine, it would always be mine. Sure it adapted to be in his body…but it was mine. I don’t know when he had the surgery. I never knew who got what and when. Still he had a bit of me in him and I had control.

“You don’t get to keep me here anymore! I’m SO sick of this. I don’t care if I’m helping rich assholes stay alive longer than the gods want. LET THEM DIE! You don’t help children, you don’t help the poor which is what I SIGNED ON TO DO! YOU LINE YOUR POCKETS BECAUSE OE ME! I HATE IT! I HATE ALL OF IT! You know they offered me money, protection AND freedom. Not to lock me up and rip out organs from my body, which they very well could do. NO! These ‘villains’ are going to treat me better than the heroes ever have.”

Justice looked at me and for the first time anywhere I saw genuine fear in the so called hero’s face. I was drunk in that moment. I loved this. Do villains get to feel like this all the time? Or maybe the really powerful ones do.

“Please…don’t. I…I’ll give you more freedom okay. More money too…just…”

Why wasn’t this working for him. I had him under control for life…no not for life. Then he’d really lock me away, keeping me sedated for a long as possible. My body will adapt eventually to the drugs, but  then he’ll just rip out organs while I’m awake. I can see it behind the fear. The rage he has.

“Sorry my friend. I don’t think you have a better counteroffer.”

Then I closed my hand in a fist and instantly I saw blood come from his eyes and mouth and he just fell over to the side. I walked over to help the man with the knives get up and I dusted him off.

“Morticia, consider me under your protection and employ. I am going to ask for something right off the bat, if you don’t mind. I want a beer so bad I dream about them every night. Can we go get a drink somewhere? I’m not trying to hit on you but something tells me you are wonderful company.”

I offered her the crook of my arm so she could pull herself up to stand. I could see a whole range of emotions play across her face as she looked at the fallen hero just dead on the floor. I looked at him as well…oh I was giddy. I had suppressed myself so much that I couldn’t feel. Now just letting my emotions out I could feel so much power, I had so much control over so many politicians now.

“Or maybe I would like a better contract. I’d like to join the Shadow League. Seeing as now I have dirt on politicians, war lords, despots…so many people have a vital organ of mine in them. We’ll get so much money. Eventually they’ll all die but then we can burn that bridge when we come to it. Also we’ll need to workshop a name and costume for me. Who ever does yours I would love their number.”

Morticia just started to laugh at this completely improbably situation before her and she hoisted herself up using my elbow. She pulled me close just resting her other hand on my arm. She looked truly amused and happy with the outcome. The large woman patted me on the back smiling as well. I liked them already. These were my true heroes. My saviors that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to truly repay.

“I think…you’ll be a wonderful addition to the Shadow League. I think we are about to enter a new age of villainy, if I dare be so optimistic.”

The funny thing about villains. They don’t really want to do evil. They are beat and broken people rebelling against a system that hurt them. I will force change…and when I make them happy they’ll stop being ‘evil’. Most of them will anyway, some are just sick and twisted…and they’ll be put down. The reasonable ones though…gods I’m using evil to get so much good done in the world. A new age indeed.

“I think you should dare.” I offered her a smile. She had me floating at this point…this was so cool. GODS I can’t wait

You're a literal universal donor for a superpower, that even your organs are compatible. And right now, the villains have decided to hit the hospital.

[carnalcrows]

HOW TO STEAL A MAN (AND HIS GROCERY LIST)

pairing: gi-hun x top male reader

synopsis: When Gi-hun’s late-night cat-feeding routine attracts a stalker with a cart full of cat food and questionable social skills, chaos—and maybe romance—ensues.

content warnings: 18+, top male reader, stalking, blowjobs (reader receiving), missionary, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, reader wants to get gi-hun pregnant asap, age gap (reader is in his 20s and gi-hun is in his 40s).

word count: 2.2k

A/N: ty anon for the request!! i had fun writing this one

Seong Gi-hun’s life wasn’t glamorous. Every evening, after whatever sorry excuse for a day he’d had, he stopped at the corner store, bought a packet of cheap cat food, and made his way to a run-down alley to feed a scruffy stray. It was the one bright spot in his life, and he looked forward to it more than he cared to admit.

What he didn’t know was that someone else looked forward to it too.

That someone was you.

You first noticed Gi-hun a few weeks ago while wandering through the neighborhood. At first, you thought he was just some random guy lingering in the alley, but then you saw him crouch down and pour food into a chipped saucer. His voice was soft as he spoke to the stray cat, coaxing it to eat.

It was... oddly endearing.

From then on, you couldn’t help yourself. You started following him—not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little creepy)—but you were curious. Who was this man? Why did he care so much about a stray cat?

Your fascination grew, and soon, watching him feed the cat became part of your routine. But you wanted more than to just watch. You wanted to talk to him. To know him.

One evening, as you watched Gi-hun walk into the corner store, you got an idea. A foolproof, albeit slightly unhinged, plan. You hurried inside ahead of him, grabbed every single packet of cat food off the shelf, and went to pay, ignoring the cashier’s confused look.

When Gi-hun arrived at the pet aisle, you lingered near the exit, pretending to browse.

��What the…?” Gi-hun muttered, staring at the empty shelf. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighed, and turned to leave, only to almost bump into you.

You were standing there with a massive bag filled with cat food packets.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you said, pretending to be startled.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re the reason the shelf is empty?”

“I feed a lot of strays,” you said innocently, though the amusement in your voice probably gave you away.

Gi-hun raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You think I could buy one of those off you? There’s a stray I feed every night, and now I’m empty-handed.”

You pretended to think about it, then smiled. “I’ll give you one… if you let me come with you. I’d like to meet the cat.”

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your request. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. But don’t scare it off, okay?”

That’s how it all started.

What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into a routine. Every evening, you’d meet Gi-hun at the corner store, walk with him to the alley, and sit on the curb while the stray cat ate. Over time, you learned bits and pieces about him: his failed marriage, his gambling problems, and most importantly, his love for his daughter, Ga-yeong.

“She’s all I have left,” he admitted one night, his voice soft.

You nodded, unsure what to say. It was clear how much he cared for her, even if he didn’t always show it in the best ways.

As weeks passed, you also got to know Ga-yeong, who was surprisingly cool for a kid. She started teasing her dad about how much time he spent with you.

“Are you two dating yet?” she asked one evening, smirking as she watched you and Gi-hun prepare dinner.

Gi-hun spluttered. “W-what? No! We’re just friends.”

“Sure, Dad,” she said, winking at you.

You laughed, enjoying how flustered he got.

One rainy evening, you were at Gi-hun’s apartment again, helping him cook dinner. The kitchen was small and cramped, but it felt cozy with the two of you working side by side.

As you chopped vegetables, you glanced at him. “You know, you’re not half bad at this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m just saying,” you teased. “You’re full of surprises.”

Gi-hun smiled, but when he noticed you staring, his brow furrowed. “What? Do I have sauce on my face or something?”

“Nothing,” you said, setting the knife down. “I just… I’ve been wanting to do something for a while now.”

Before he could ask what, you stepped closer, your heart racing. Gi-hun froze like a deer in headlights, his hand awkwardly holding a ladle full of stew.

“What are you—”

You cupped his face with both hands and kissed him.

At first, he didn’t move, his eyes wide with surprise. But as you pressed into him, his shoulders relaxed, and the ladle clattered to the counter. Slowly, tentatively, he kissed you back, his lips warm and soft against yours.

It started gentle, careful, like he was afraid to mess it up. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. He leaned into you, his hands nervously gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You smiled against his lips, enjoying how hesitant he was, even as his breathing grew heavier.

“Relax,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his. “You’re doing fine.”

“I—I don’t—” he stammered, but you cut him off with another kiss, this one deeper, more insistent.

Gi-hun let out a muffled sound of surprise, his hands fumbling as they slid up your back. His inexperience was endearing, and it only made you want to kiss him harder.

Somehow, the two of you ended up pressed against the counter, the dinner long forgotten. Gi-hun’s hair was an absolute mess from your hands running through it, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Good,” you said with a grin, leaning in to steal another kiss.

The smell of burning stew eventually snapped the two of you out of it, but not before you got one last, lingering kiss. As Gi-hun scrambled to salvage dinner, muttering curses under his breath, you leaned against the counter, watching him with a satisfied smirk.

“I like you,” you said casually, making him freeze mid-stir.

He turned to look at you, his expression somewhere between flustered and incredulous. “You think?”

“I know,” you corrected. “And I think you like me too.”

Gi-hun sighed, his lips quirking into a small, shy smile. “Yeah... maybe I do.”

You laughed, reaching out to tug him back toward you. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Your mouth found his once more, and you slowly lifted the man onto the countertop. He yelped in surprise, and you used the opportunity to slide your tongue, relishing in how he tasted.

His hands gripped onto your shoulders, while you held his waist, steadying him. You slowly trailed butterfly kisses from his jow to his neck, stopping at his Adam’s apple before lightly nipping on his ear lobe.

Gi-hun was still quite unsure of what he was supposed to be doing, not having engaged in such…activities for far too long.

“You do want to do this right? We can stop the moment you tell me to,” you said to him, your tone soft. After a second of pondering, he gripped your shoulders with determination, and latched his mouth right onto yours.

You took it as a sign to continue, and slowly broke away the kiss to close the stew before continuing to have your way with him.

You slowly picked him up from the countertop and carried him to the couch, revelling in how surprised you were. Carrying those giant bags of cat food was worth it.

You laid him on the couch gently, its base creaking with the sudden weight. Gi-hun hastily pushed your pants down, tugging at the strap for a few seconds before it made way. Your cock sprang out, hard and leaking.

His eyes widened, and he looked up at you. Your eyes were soft, letting him know that this didn’t have to continue if he didn’t want it to.

Before you could say anything, he licks a stripe across your length, savouring the musk emitting from the base. You let out a groan, gripping onto his hair–but not too tight; not yet.

You let him experiment with your dick, leaving small kisses along the underside, while his hand moves up to clutch your balls, heavy with your seed. He wonders to himself on how your cum would feel inside him, and the thought makes his ears burn a bright red.

“Don’t take this long darlin’, wanna please you too,” you mumble, wanting him to speed up just a little bit.

He slowly wraps his pretty lips around the tip of your cock, making you let out a garbled moan. His mouth was just so, so warm.

“Breathe through your nose baby, that’s it,”you cooed, watching him struggle to take your length all the way.

He slowly bobbed his head up and down, savouring the precum hitting the back of his throat. Your moans were getting louder and louder, to the point where you had to muffle the noises with the back of your hand. The walls of his house were quite thin.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he struggled to swallow you whole. Your grip on his hair had gotten significantly tighter, as you push his head to take you all the way. His garbled mumbles did nothing but send vibrations straight up your dick, turning you on even more.

“So good f’me baby, I’m almost done,”you groan before releasing your grip on his hair and pulling out of his warm throat, before ejaculating all over his face. 

He looked up at you in shock, his face a mixture of tears, sweat and semen. It truly was a sight to see. Your dick stood right back up.

His eyes widened, but before he could say anything, you quickly turned him around on the couch, his ass up towards you.

You pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, to reveal his tight hole, clenching around the cold air. He hissed when he suddenly felt a finger at his hole, slick with lube (where did that come from).

“This might hurt a lil’ bit,” you said before slowly pressing your finger into his hole. His back arched with the intrusion, the pain mixed with the pleasure going straight to his cock, the tip red and weeping.

You slowly added another finger, watching as his ass practically swallowed them whole as you pumped them in and out.

After adding a third finger, you deemed that he was prepped enough to be fucked. He already looked out of it, that was a different thing altogether. His shoulders were slumped and his elbows were the only thing keeping him upright.

You positioned you cock at his entrance, and slowly slid in, groaning at how tight and inviting his hole was, as if it was made just for your dick.

Gi-hun let out a loud moan, it was almost pornographic. He had never felt this full in his life– your cock was almost ripping him in half!

You bottomed out all the way to the hilt, and you slowly started to move, whispering dirty nothings in the older man’s ear.

“How does it feel, getting fucked by a man half your age, hm?” Gi-hun could only blabber at this, his brain could no longer form coherent words as his mind was so focused on how your cock was hitting the right spot with every. single. thrust.

You felt his hole mould into the shape of your cock, and every time you hit his prostate, his moans got more high pitched. One of your hands caressed his stomach, and you were surprised to find his belly bulging with every thrust. He squealed when he felt it, his brain was feeling so empty. 

“Y’know Gi-hun, your daughter must be quite lonely, considering that she is an only child. Wanna give Ga-yeong a sibling?” you teased, to which he could only moan, his head filled with the thought of you making him pregnant with your seed. The thought didn’t seem too bad.

To this, you lifted him up and sat on the couch with him on your lap, his back to your chest. You lifted his legs up in such a way that every single time you lifted him up and dropped him back on your lap, your dick would hit places he didn’t even know existed.

He threw his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his head with the vigour of your thrusts, fucking into him like you were an animal in heat. At this point, it really felt like you were trying to get him pregnant. A man couldn’t biologically get pregnant, but all rational thought had flown out the window, and who said you couldn’t try?

As your thrusts started to stutter, you knew you were at a climax, so when Gi-hun came with a cry, painting his abdomen white, you pushed into him all the way to his imaginary womb before coming undone with a loud groan, painting his gummy walls a pearly white.

You kept your cock in him for a while, letting him relax. His hole clenched and unclenched around your dick, while only spurred you on even more.

Gi-hun turned around to face you lazily, but with surprise, as he felt your cock harden in him once again.

“We can’t stop yet love, I need to give you a baby after all,” you smirked before pushing Gi-hun back down onto the couch.

He was fucked.

And somewhere out there, a stray cat was probably wondering why its dinner was late.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[lavenders388]

hiiii!! i’m in LOVE with your writing & i’m so happy to have found you ^^ I was wondering if I could request some headcanons of player 388 (Kang Dae-ho) with a s/o that was also in the military? ik it’s gonna sound a bit specific, but if it could be the FARC then i’d really appreciate it !! (oc reasons 😅) <33

~real man~

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ Kang Dae Ho x Military! Reader Headcannons<3

requested 💌

a/n thank you for the request!! this is such a lovely idea!! -matcha

<3 the second he finds out you were also in the military he becomes even more interested in you in a respectful admiration way kind of like how he was to Jung Bae! he understands the struggles that you've been through because he went through the same and he respects you for that, as well as he enjoys knowing there's someone closer to his age he can relate to!

<3 he gets a little bit sad for you; just knowing like what he went through and the things he struggles with from serving like physical injuries/ptsd. he just cares about you so much and doesn't want you to have ever had to go through anything negative.

<3 if you were in a higher branch/rank than him, he gets really embarrassed thinking about how much he talked about himself not knowing there was someone higher than him there. he gets really flustered when you tell him he should still be proud of himself:3

<3 if you were in the FARC, i don't think he would know exactly what it was, just with it being a little different from what he went through as well as depending on how much he knew/didnt know about your country! once you explain it to him he's in awe that you were a part of something so noble and groundbreaking.

<3 Dae Ho also admires and is interested in learning what made the FARC form in the first place and is even more interested in the fact that its now recognized as its own political party! he finds this super interesting and admirable. he loves learning more not just about you but about your country, and he gets to do that a lot by learning more about what you served in!

<3 going off of the previous one, if you arent in the games/when he gets out he definitely researches it a ton just so he can know more about you and impress you with his knowledge:)

<3 he does the "SIR!" thing to you a lot to joke around; but he truly does respect you and see you as higher due to your service and his admiration of you in general:3

<3 he loves this part of you a ton and loves that the two of you have this in common as well, as your relationship develops he appreciates this a lot because it allows him to speak to you and get to know you more:)

[ivhmavie]

➴ Give me all of that ultraviolence ༶

how would be being in a toxic relationship with them

characters: hwang in ho (player 001) and the salesman.

warnings: toxic relationship, sexual content, a little of size kink, kinda yandere!salesman, mention of murder and harassment (not in a romanticized way), age gap OF COURSE ‘cause I love it.

hwang in ho (player 001)

-he’s not controlling type, you can go almost every place you want to, but he wants to know your every step

-some places, which he says are not suitable for you, are prohibited, but he will manipulate you to give you the false impression that you decided for yourself that it was not a good idea to go wherever it was

-also manipulate you saying that because you are younger, you should listen to his advices. This way he would be sure that you are always on a path that he doesn't have to worry about trying to control you, especially because he has other priorities as the frontman

-so, no matter what, he would make sure that you would always have at least two guards accompanying you to places

-it’s hard to have privacy, because the guards tell him exactly what you did during the day, with who you talked to

-as the frontman, he doesn't have much time to spend with you. So he tries to make up for his absence with gifts. He gives you his black card, and when he sees the notifications of the unimaginable amounts you spent, he knows you're angry, but doesnt care at all, later he will resolve it with sex later

-whem he wants to spend time with you, he will order his guards to take you to his room to watch the games with him

-it doesnt matter if you support the games, it’s his job and allows him to have a luxurious life, which extends to you

-isn’t really affectionate, but likes to have physical contact with you to remind you that you are there, under his careful view

-would never lay a finger on you to hit you, but I don't mind being rough during sex

“so, what you want me to do, darling?” he says while disinterestedly swirling the whiskey in his glass, a bored expression on his face as he struggled to keep a simple conversation with you, watching the bloodbath that took place in the large room where the players slept. Superb and selfish animals killing themselves for money, that's what he would say.

Your heels make noise as they hit the ground as you walk in circles, after taking a deep breath you look towards him and take two steps towards him.

“god, hwang, take this seriously, you’re not even listeng to me.” You say angrily, a hand running through your hair, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to speak with the man sitting on the couch. “I can’t keep pretending that I don't mind being alone for so long, you’re never around, always busy with your stupid guards, the miserable players or the fucking organ trafficking scheme, damn it.”You stop when you hear the sound of him scratching his throat, whem you look at him you see him calling you with a finger, making a sign to go to him.

taking heavy and quick steps, when you arrive in front of him you are surprised by a hand pulling you by the waist. As soon as you land on his lap, inho pulls your face towards his, a firm hand on your neck.

“If you wanted my attetion, good, you have it” he says as his other hand runs under your dress, passing through the lace of your panties and tracing circles.“Now, I'm going to give you enough attention so you understand your fucking place”

the salesman

-now, he’s the controlling type. Everything you do, everywhere you go, everyone you talk to, he knows everything

-doesn't bother to manipulate you, he just dictates the rules. Who you can't talk to, the guys he doesn't approve because he swears that if they had the chance, they would try every way to get you. He’s paranoid and extremist

-unlike inho, he doesn't use your youth against you, it's actually something he adores. He loves the fact that you are so vulnerable and inexperienced compared to him, for him, this gives him more power to control you

-If you were going out, he would like to accompany you himself, he would take you to the doctor, to go shopping, even to the beauty salon

-he thinks you won't be safe if you're not with him, so freedom is not an option

-while he goes out to recruit more people for the games and work, you stay at home, being able to go out rarely. He especially doesn't like it if you go out alone or with a man, even if it's a friend. Sometimes he lets you go work with him, you just accompany him and observe

-on the very rare occasions when you go out alone, he will want to keep in touch, sending you messages, receiving photos of you and calling you. He just wants to make sure nothing bad happens to you.

-he is a paranoid man when it comes to your safety, so he is afraid that you will be harassed or even killed if you go out alone

-he’s not clingy, but he's affectionate, in his own way. He treats you as if you were made of porcelain, always says how much he would blame himself if something happened to you, and wouldn't hesitate to kill someone for you if necessary

-he wouldn't be the type to hurt you, not on purpose, sometimes he can be rude in intimate moments, always wanting to be in control, leaving you at the mercy of his wishes

It had been a busy and difficult day, he was looking forward to getting home and meeting his girl. The sound of the front door opening woke you up from your nap, you see your husband entering the house and taking off the top of his perfectly pressed suit.

“You took a while today, I tried to wait for you but I was kinda tired”You get up from the sofa, heading towards him, approaching him from behind and running your hands over his broad back. The salesman sighs feeling his small hands lightly massaging his back

“did you spoke to any of your friends today?”

“you know I didnt” you say bitterly, pulling away from him a little and feeling the anger rise.

“oh, my love, don't be mad" he says turning to you and holding your waist firmly "you know it's just for your safety" you feel his breath on your neck, followed by kisses and some bites, you wrap your arms around his neck and move away so he can kiss your chest, feeling his hand reaching under your blouse and holding you tightly, it would definitely leave a mark

"Now come on, I need you to do something for me, I want to feel you around me"

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love freelance inventor so much, Danny is the dad that stepped up.

Does Bruce know about Talia's assassination attempt ? Does he know Dany sent back bodies ?

Danny: I'm going to help this man raise his children, occasionally sleeping in the same bed while cuddling; I will call him whenever I get a chance and have my family treat him like a son-in-law. I would like to hold his hand, kiss his lips, and grow old together.....but like platonically. What do you mean this feeling is not platonic???

Bruce and his kids (minus Damian) do not know about Talia's assassination attempts. They think that Danny is a regular world-traveling civilian inventing random gadgets for fun because he's from a family that randomly invents gadgets for fun. The Fentons have been known to do that throughout five generations, and while not sticking wealthy, they do have a good-sized bank account. How else would they afford to pay for their portal's materials and power?

Meanwhile, Danny thinks that Bruce and his kids are just a regular, super-rich family he constantly thinks about. He believes the League of Assassins is a cult that is obsessed with immortality and death, which is why they are bothering him. They somehow found out about Phantom, which is his assumption. He killed in self-defense or in the defense of those around him whenever they attacked. Unlike Bruce he doesn't have a problem ending a life if it means keeping someone he values alive.

He is unaware it's one of Bruce's ex.

Damian is the only one who knows both sides but assumes no one is bringing it up out of politeness because he was raised with the idea that no one shared league secrets. He lives by the Oath.

[sweetheartbitesb4ck]

part one ||  part two ||  part three || part four || this is part five

You were Simon Riley's first proper girlfriend. Obviously there was that girl from year 2 at school who he 'married' in the playground, as well as numerous failed attempts at dating, but you? You were different. The thought of committing to you made him nervous, but in a fuck, I'm head over heels way. The thought of not committing to you, on the other hand, made him feel sick with the idea of you not being around.

You'd made it official about a week or two ago, and had been taking it slowly since then. Nor you or Simon wanted to rush into anything, but after a few dates it started to seem so... real.

The most recent date is what really made up your mind about the soldier (who had already pretty much written out your wedding vows). It had made you realise quite how strong your feelings were. It was a romantic night... Ghost had spend hours sifting through his phone for restaurants in the area; it had to be faultless... the lighting couldn't be too bright, it had to be great food, he wasn't going to let it be a busy place, et cetera...

Once he had found the flawless place he booked a table for two, and on the actual day he got dressed hours before he needed too, picking out his best clothes. He was wearing black jeans and a slightly unbuttoned shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, because in all honestly he was a little hot from nerves. He wanted the night to be perfect.

You were also nervous... the afternoon was spent on facetime with your friends, debating over what jewellery went with what dress and whether to wear makeup and if so what eyeshadow and which lip gloss and... it was all a blur, really. By the time you were ready both your dressing table and bedroom floor looked like bombs had gone off; clothes were everywhere and there was a mess of makeup wipes from when you'd aggressively scrubbed off your full face again and again to re-apply with pin-point intricacy.

Finally 7 pm had drawn around. You'd arranged to meet outside of the restaurant, so you walked over from your place. Simon had arrived 20 minutes early so he stood outside awkwardly, rocking on the balls of his feet and nodding uncomfortably at people passing by who gave the skull mask a weird look. He knew it made him look a bit odd... he wasn't used to wearing smart clothes and the scars and tattoos on his arms as well as the balaclava were a stark juxtaposition to the slightly fancier setting.

As he saw you walking over, he straightened himself up, brushing invisible dust from his attire and lifting his hand in a mechanical looking wave. You giggled slightly, looking down and grinning. "Hello," You say, voice warm.

"You..." Simon starts, eyes round beneath the mask. "You look absolutely stunning," He mumbles, voice gravelly as hooked his arm around your back before you and him start to walk towards the restaurant. He held the door open for you before nodding at a member of staff in the entrance. "I... er I got... I mean, have, a reservation for two," He stutters, fumbling around with the rolled up sleeves as he tries to pull them down.

"What name is that under?" The waitress asks, smiling politely. You try to hold back your smirk, yet again staring at the floor.

"That's under Gho- no- fuck-" He falters, expression embarrassed. Just the sight of you alone had sent him into flustered and in love mode. "It's under Riley," You chime in, taking Simon's hand and squeezing it gently. Once sat down at a table with menus, you burst into laughter, clapping your hand over your mouth as you attempt to compose yourself. "It's great to see you again," You beam, eyes glistening as you see Ghost's eyes crinkle in the corners with happiness. It only took a little smile from you to make everything feel lighter for the man who had once been so emotionless.

At the end of the meal, Simon refused to let you even just consider paying the bill. As soon as the the card reader was presented he swooped in with his card, smiling smugly under the mask at your protests. You fold your arms and pout with mock anger, but soon your were grinning again as he held out your jacket for you and slipped his arm around your waist as the two of you walked out.

You make your way into the night, streetlamps gently lighting the paved street. Simon nods forwards and you cross the road as he begins to speak. "We should go on a little walk, eh?" He tilts his head at you, smiling under the mask.

"That sounds nice," You said, taking his hand as you start to walk. Ghost knew just where he would take you, so he guided you to a small, pretty bridge going over a gentle river.

"This is so pretty," You murmur, stopping in the middle of the bridge and leaning on the railing. "Mhm," Simon replies, his eyes set firmly on you and only you... the way the moonlight washed over your face in that way. He wraps an arm around your waist again, pulling you in as your hands shift to gently rest on his chest. "Mhm," He repeats, moving his spare hand to tug at the balaclava. He grunts, flushing red under the fabric from a mixture of anticipation and embarrassment "Can you just..." He pulls at the mask again and you huff with laughter.

"Sure..." You whisper, tugging the fabric to his nosebridge.

"All the way off," He mumbles, suddenly feeling that feeling.

Your eyes widen slightly and you nod, gently pulling the whole mask off. You lean backwards for a moment, running your eyes over his flushed face. Every scar was like a location on a map, dotted around his face and sloped jawline. You feel your breath hitch slightly as you take him in, your eyes round with adoration and cheeks becoming hot.

Simon tilts your chin up as you stretch onto tiptoes (what with the large height difference) and he pulls you in closer, smirking slightly at your fixed gaze on his face. "Creepin' me out..." He chuckles, just standing there for a minute, not wanting to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. "Simon hurry up," You giggle, finally breaking the silence and blinking.

"Hurry up and what?" He furrows his brows, a look of genuine confusion flashing over his face. "Oh..." At that point, his cheeks might as well have been scarlet. "Shit." Ghost whispers to himself before taking a deep breath and leaning in to kiss you, his arms wrapping around your frame as his slightly chapped lips brushed against your soft lips. He quickly pulls backwards, expression concerned. "That's what you meant, yeah?"

You just giggle, tiptoeing again to loosely place your arms on his shoulders and around his neck, the mask still bunched up in your palms. "Of course it was, silly," You murmur, stretching to kiss him again.

Simon's heart rate was racing and his eyes fluttered shut, kind of just accepting his amazing fate. Even though he could feel his palms growing clammy, he slid a hand to cup the back of your head, his fingers raking into your hair.

Your first kiss. And oh, what a kiss it was... calm yet passionate, lips connecting in a way that ensured nor you or Simon wanted to pull away. You'd kissed other people in the past, sure, but nothing was like this. You could have sworn you felt your whole body buzz because in all honesty this was new; nothing like those mediocre kisses that it was safe to say you had left in the past.

This? This was love.

Simon pulls away, catching his breath as he strokes your hair with his thumb. "That was..." He stammers, looking away slightly.

He was not used to being this vulnerable, especially without the balaclava on. He felt exposed, but in a weird safe way. It was new, as were a lot of these feelings, all caused by you, but he was strangely welcoming to every single on of them.

"Yeah it was..." You respond, a smile pinching at the corners of your mouth and eyes.

"That was perfect," He manages, looking back at you, his ocean blue eyes that were once so haunted softening. Ever since he first set eyes on you, through the window, you had this exact effect on him. The one that made his whole body feel light and made him feel so at home, because, in all honesty, you were... you are his home.

hope you enjoyed pt 5!! I'm so sorry for the lateness... I've been SO busy ;w;

anyways, if you have any suggestions or rq's for a possible pt 6 or for anything else, make sure to comment or leave me an ask!

[manmuncher777]

HANDY MAN

Neighbour!nanami x reader

18+ SMUT - name calling, degradation, thirst, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking.

- You offer nanami dinner as a thank you for all his help, but when the tension builds, dinner takes an unexpected turn..

A/n - my babies, I couldn’t be more thankful for all the love on my recent posts!!! Ive just hit 500 followers, I love that 500 of you lovely people took the time to follow me. So please take this offering as a thank you!! I hope you love it as much as I do, and please remember JJK/AOT REQS ARE OPEN!! Like seriously give me stuff to write before I tweak out

Nanami Kento was the perfect neighbor. The kind of man who never forgot to return a borrowed tool, who held the elevator door even if he was in a hurry, and who always offered a polite nod and quiet “good evening” when you crossed paths in the hallway. Reliable, considerate, and so steady it was almost maddening.

You’d noticed him the day you moved in—how could you not? Tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of quiet authority that made your stomach do somersaults every time he so much as glanced your way. But he was polite to a fault, never lingering too long in conversation, never crossing the line between friendly and personal.

Until the day your radiator broke.

You’d knocked on his door hesitantly, clutching a screwdriver you had no idea how to use and praying he wouldn’t think you were an absolute idiot. He’d answered almost immediately, sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that looked like they could fix a lot more than just a radiator. You’d stumbled through your explanation, cheeks heating as you fumbled for the right words, but he’d only nodded, grabbed his toolbox, and followed you into your apartment without a second thought.

That was months ago. Since then, Nanami had become a quiet but consistent fixture in your life. A leaking faucet, a flickering lightbulb, a misaligned cabinet door—he handled them all with a calm efficiency that made you feel both grateful and hopelessly incompetent.

You’d offered to pay him, of course, but he’d waved it off with a dismissive hand. "It’s nothing," he’d said, his tone as smooth as his tie. "Just let me know if you need anything else."

And you had. Often.

You’d started baking for him as a way to say thank you. Cookies, muffins, the occasional pie—anything to feel like you were contributing something to the arrangement. He never complained, though you’d caught the ghost of a smile on his lips when you handed over a batch of freshly made banana bread last week.

Now, as you stood in your kitchen staring at the cursed garbage disposal that had decided to stop working, you couldn’t help but sigh. Your first instinct was to call the building maintenance, but the thought of a stranger rooting around in your sink made your skin crawl. You didn’t trust anyone else with your space—or, let’s face it, your dignity.

Your feet carried you to his front door almost automatically, and before you could overthink it, you knocked.

The door opened after a brief pause, and there he was, Nanami Kento in all his quiet, unflappable glory. He was dressed casually for once, a simple sweater that somehow still clung to his broad chest in a way that made your throat go dry. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his hand through it, and he had the faintest shadow of stubble along his jawline.

"Good evening," he greeted, his voice deep and even, like the kind of bass that you felt in your chest more than you heard with your ears. "Do you need help with something?"

You offered him a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. "Uh, yeah. It’s the garbage disposal this time. I think I might have broken it."

He gave a slight chuckle—so slight you almost missed it—but there was no judgment in his gaze, only patience. "Let me grab my toolbox."

As he disappeared back into his apartment, you leaned against the doorframe and took a steadying breath. You’d grown used to his presence over the past few months, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have the ability to set your pulse racing with a single look.

When he returned, toolbox in hand, he nodded toward your apartment. "Shall we?"

You stepped aside to let him in, watching as he made his way to your kitchen with the ease of someone who’d been there a hundred times before. You couldn’t help but notice the way his sweater stretched across his back as he bent over the sink, the muscles in his shoulders shifting under the fabric.

"You really don’t have to keep doing this," you said, leaning against the counter as he assessed the situation. "I feel bad always bothering you."

He glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing slightly. "It’s no bother," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Besides, I’d rather help than have you try to fix it yourself and make it worse."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "I’m not that bad."

He turned back to the sink, but you caught the faintest twitch of his lips. "Of course not," he said dryly, reaching into the disposal with a confidence that made you feel completely out of your league.

As he worked, you found yourself watching him—really watching him. The way his hands moved with precision, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his sleeves slid up just enough to reveal the corded strength of his forearms.

"Everything okay?" he asked, not looking up, but his voice carried a note of amusement that made your cheeks heat.

"Yeah, fine," you said quickly, tearing your eyes away and busying yourself with tidying the counter. But your mind was already racing, the domestic ease of the moment mixing with the low, steady tension that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was around

Cooking dinner has always been your escape, a way to unwind and lose yourself in the simple rhythm of chopping, stirring, and seasoning. Tonight’s meal smells divine—garlic, ginger, and soy sauce melding together in a sizzling pan of vegetables and noodles. You hum along to the low music playing from your speaker, entirely at ease as you finish plating the food.

But as you start washing up, the peaceful evening takes a turn.

The faucet groans, sputters, and then sprays a rogue jet of water that soaks your shirt. You jump back with a startled yelp, frantically twisting the knobs to no avail. Water drips steadily, mockingly, pooling around the base of the sink.

You let out a defeated sigh, leaning against the counter and glaring at the offending fixture. There’s only one solution—and only one person who comes to mind.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll to his name. Nanami Kento. The calm, reliable neighbor who’s been your go-to for everything from fixing a squeaky door to assembling your bookshelf. He’s the epitome of a gentleman, always courteous and collected, but beneath his polite demeanor is a man who’s effortlessly, almost devastatingly attractive.

Your thumb hovers over the call button for a moment. It’s late, and you hate to bother him again, but you know he won’t mind. Nanami never minds.

The phone barely rings twice before his deep, steady voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, Nanami,” you say, trying not to sound too frazzled. “I, uh… I hate to bother you, but my sink is leaking. It’s kind of a mess, and I have no idea what to do.”

There’s a soft sigh on the other end, one you can almost picture paired with the slight shake of his head. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you,” you breathe, relief washing over you.

True to his word, there’s a knock at your door less than five minutes later. When you open it, you’re greeted by the sight of him: sleeves rolled up to his elbows, toolbox in hand, and an expression of calm determination on his face.

“Good evening,” he says simply, stepping inside with an easy confidence that immediately puts you at ease.

You lead him to the kitchen, gesturing sheepishly at the sink. “It’s, uh, doing that thing again. I tried turning the knobs, but…”

“I see.” Nanami sets his toolbox down, crouching beside the sink to inspect the damage. His large frame fills the small kitchen, and you can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders flex beneath the fabric of his shirt as he moves.

You try not to stare, busying yourself with wiping down the already-clean counter. But your gaze keeps wandering—trailing over the defined line of his jaw, the way his golden hair falls slightly out of place as he leans closer to the pipes. His hands, large and strong, move with precise efficiency, wielding tools like an extension of himself.

“You weren’t kidding,” he says after a moment, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “It’s worse than last time. Did you notice the dripping earlier, or did it start all at once?”

“Oh, um…” You blink, trying to focus. “I think it started all at once. I mean, it wasn’t doing this earlier, and then suddenly—” You gesture vaguely at the mess. “It just happened.”

Nanami hums thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration as he works. The room is quiet except for the occasional clink of tools and the steady cadence of his voice as he explains what he’s doing.

“You’ve got a loose valve here,” he says, glancing up at you. “It’s a simple fix, but if it happens again, you might want to consider replacing the whole faucet.”

You nod, biting your lip as your eyes linger on the way his forearms flex with every turn of the wrench. He looks so composed, so effortlessly capable, that you can’t help but feel a little flustered.

“Thanks for coming over so quickly,” you say, hoping to fill the silence. “I feel like I’m always calling you for something.”

Nanami glances up again, his gaze steady and warm. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy to help.”

Your cheeks heat under his attention, and you quickly turn away, pretending to fuss with a towel. “Still, I really appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He doesn’t reply immediately, but you catch the faintest flicker of a smile as he turns back to the sink. “You’d manage,” he says after a moment. “But I’m glad I can make things easier for you.”

The casual intimacy of his words sends a flutter through your chest, and you busily tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pretending you didn’t notice. But you did notice. You always notice

The minutes stretch on as he continues working, and the longer he’s there, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension humming beneath the surface. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, every quiet exhale, and the way his presence seems to fill the entire room.

By the time he finishes, your nerves are wound tight, and you’re clutching the towel in your hands like a lifeline. Nanami straightens up, rolling his sleeves back down with a practiced motion before turning to face you.

“All done,” he announces, his voice calm and steady as always.

“Thank you,” you say quickly, stepping closer. “You’re a lifesaver. Really.”

“It’s nothing,” he replies, brushing his hands off on a rag. “Just a simple fix.”

“Still,” you insist, unable to stop the words from spilling out. “I feel bad that you’re always helping me out. You should let me thank you properly sometime.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “There’s no need for that.”

“I mean it,” you say, a little more boldly this time. “Next time, at least stay for dinner or something. It’s the least I can do.”

For a moment, he’s silent, his gaze fixed on yours in a way that makes your heart race. Then, finally, he nods. “All right. I’ll hold you to that.”

His words hang in the air, heavier than they should be, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more lurking beneath his calm exterior. But before you can dwell on it, he picks up his toolbox and heads for the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the faint scent of cedarwood lingering in the air.

As Nanami finishes cleaning up, wiping his hands on a towel with practiced efficiency, you catch yourself hesitating. The kitchen feels too quiet now, the weight of his presence filling the space even though he’s barely said a word. He’s so composed, so calm, and it’s that very quiet confidence that makes your heart race.

Before you can second-guess yourself, the words spill out. “You know… I made way too much dinner tonight. Would you like to stay and have some? As a thank you?”

Nanami pauses, his towel frozen mid-air. He looks at you, his honeyed gaze unreadable for a moment before it softens. “You’re sure?” he asks, his tone polite but warm, as if he’s already guessed your answer.

“Absolutely,” you insist, gesturing toward the plates on the counter. “It’s the least I can do. And besides…” You offer a sheepish smile. “It’d be nice to have some company.”

He doesn’t make you wait long for a reply. With a small nod, he sets the towel aside. “All right. I’d be happy to join you.”

You busy yourself plating the food, trying not to overthink the fact that Nanami Kento is about to sit down at your dining table. By the time you’ve poured two glasses of wine and taken a seat, the nerves in your chest have settled into a low, thrumming buzz.

He’s sitting across from you, shoulders broad and straight even as he relaxes slightly into the chair. The glow of the overhead light catches on his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the subtle curve of his lips. You take a sip of wine, more to distract yourself than anything else.

“This smells wonderful,” he says, breaking the silence. His voice is smooth, steady, with a quiet sincerity that makes you feel like the effort you put into cooking was worth it.

“Thanks,” you reply, fidgeting slightly with your fork. “It’s just a stir-fry, nothing fancy.”

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “Don’t undersell yourself. It looks like you put a lot of care into it.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your neck, and you quickly look down at your plate. “I just like to cook,” you mumble, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you’ve become.

But, of course, he notices.

“You’re sweet,” he says after a moment, his tone light but deliberate. “Always going out of your way to take care of people. I’ve noticed that about you.”

Your hand freezes mid-cut, and you glance up at him, unsure how to respond. The way he’s looking at you—steady, direct, but not overwhelming—makes your heart skip a beat.

“Well,” you say, attempting to deflect, “it’s the least I can do for someone who’s always fixing things around here. You’re like my personal handyman.”

Nanami chuckles softly, the sound low and warm, and you’re struck by how rare it is to hear him laugh. “I don’t mind,” he says simply. “It’s… nice, actually. Knowing I can be useful.”

“Useful?” You tilt your head, genuinely surprised. “You’re not just useful, Nanami. You’re—” You pause, searching for the right words. “You’re dependable. It’s a rare quality these days.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a quiet pride that he doesn’t vocalize but doesn’t hide either. He takes a sip of wine, and for a moment, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the tension simmering just below the surface.

“Do you always blush this easily?” he asks suddenly, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Your fork clatters against your plate, and you quickly press a hand to your cheek, which, of course, only makes the blush worse. “I—I’m not blushing,” you stammer, even though it’s a blatant lie.

Nanami leans back slightly in his chair, his gaze unwavering as he studies you. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he says, his voice low and steady. “It’s charming.”

The word charming rolls off his tongue with such ease that you’re left momentarily speechless. You take another sip of wine, hoping the alcohol will calm your nerves, but it only seems to amplify the way your heart pounds in your chest.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” you accuse softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Doing what?”

“Making me flustered,” you reply, refusing to meet his gaze. ���You’re teasing me.”

His smile deepens, though his tone remains as gentlemanly as ever. “Am I? I didn’t realize I had that effect on you.”

You let out a huff, half-exasperated and half-embarrassed, but you can’t deny the way your pulse quickens under his attention. He’s so steady, so sure of himself, and it only makes your own nerves feel all the more pronounced.

“You’re not used to being teased, are you?” he asks, his voice softening slightly, though the teasing glint in his eyes remains.

“Not like this,” you admit quietly, fidgeting with the stem of your wine glass.

Nanami doesn’t reply immediately, but the way he looks at you—calm, steady, and undeniably masculine—speaks volumes. There’s something in his gaze that makes you feel seen, like he’s not just looking at you but through you, peeling back the layers of your carefully constructed composure.

And the worst part? You don’t mind it.

The conversation drifts into safer territory after that, but the tension lingers, crackling quietly beneath the surface. By the time you both finish eating, you’re acutely aware of how close he’s sitting, of the faint warmth radiating from his presence, and of the way your heart hasn’t stopped racing since he walked through the door.

As you stand to clear the plates, Nanami reaches out, his hand brushing against yours for just a moment. It’s such a small gesture, but the electricity it sends shooting through your veins is anything but small.

“Let me help,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.

You glance up at him, and for a moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. His expression is calm, his gaze unwavering, but there’s a quiet intensity in his eyes that makes it impossible to look away.

“T-Thanks,” you manage to stammer, your cheeks flushing all over again as you hand him a plate.

And just like that, you realize that dinner was only the beginning.

The rhythmic sound of water running and dishes clinking fills the air, a domestic symphony that feels oddly intimate. Nanami stands close behind you, drying the plates and bowls you pass his way, his movements steady and methodical, just like everything else about him. He’s not in a hurry; he never is, and that unshakable calm only makes your pulse race more.

You try to focus on the task at hand—the dishes, the soap, the warm water—but it’s impossible with him standing so close. His presence is magnetic, his broad shoulders and quiet strength commanding every ounce of your attention. The occasional brush of his hand against yours when he takes a dish from you feels deliberate, calculated, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

The plate in your hands is spotless by now, but you keep scrubbing, needing something to keep your hands busy. You tell yourself it’s just habit, that you’re not doing this to avoid turning around and meeting those piercing eyes of his. But then, his voice cuts through the quiet.

“You know,” he says, his tone low and tinged with amusement, “if you scrub that plate any harder, you might actually wear it down to nothing.”

You freeze, heat rushing to your face as you realize how long you’ve been working on the same plate. “I was just… making sure it’s clean,” you mumble, quickly rinsing it and passing it to him without looking up.

Nanami takes it from you, his large hand brushing against yours for just a second longer than necessary. He doesn’t say anything at first, but when you finally glance over your shoulder, you catch the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“It’s clean enough,” he says gently, his tone teasing but not unkind. “Unless you’re trying to impress someone with your dishwashing skills.”

Your breath hitches, and you quickly turn back to the sink, grabbing another dish. “I’m not trying to impress anyone,” you reply, your voice higher than you’d like.

His chuckle is soft but rich, a sound that settles in your chest and makes your heart skip. “You’re a terrible liar,” he says simply, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You grip the next dish a little too tightly, the soap making it slick in your hands. It slips, clattering against the sink with a loud clang, and you wince. Before you can recover, Nanami leans in, his chest brushing against your back as he reaches past you to steady it.

“You’re tense,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly close now, warm and steady in your ear. “Relax. It’s just dishes.”

It’s just dishes. But nothing about this moment feels casual or ordinary. His breath fans across your skin, his presence wrapping around you like a blanket, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he’s standing, how solid and warm he feels behind you.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say, though the words come out weaker than you intended.

“Are you?” he asks, his tone dipping lower, and there’s a quiet challenge in his voice that makes your knees feel unsteady.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of his gaze, and instantly regret it. His eyes are locked on you, sharp and focused, but there’s something else there too—something molten and heavy that makes your pulse flutter.

“You seem a little… distracted,” he continues, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Did I do something to make you nervous?”

Your grip on the next plate tightens, and you curse yourself silently. He’s teasing you, but not in a way that feels cruel. No, it’s worse—because it feels intentional, like he’s testing you, waiting to see how far he can push before you break.

“I’m not nervous,” you lie, rinsing the plate with more force than necessary.

His chuckle is quieter this time, but no less devastating. “Of course not,” he says, his voice a velvet hum that sends shivers down your spine. “You’re perfectly calm. That’s why you’ve been scrubbing the same spot for the last minute.”

Your cheeks burn, and you drop the plate into the drying rack with a little more force than necessary. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you mutter, finally turning to face him.

Nanami doesn’t even try to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. He leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regards you with that maddeningly calm expression. “Maybe a little,” he admits, his voice light but laced with something heavier. “It’s… endearing.”

“Endearing?” you echo, your voice higher than you’d like.

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze steady as it sweeps over you. “The way you get flustered so easily,” he explains, his tone softer now, but no less intense. “It’s… refreshing.”

You swallow hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. There’s no hiding it now—he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and the worst part is, you don’t want him to stop.

Before you can respond, he steps closer, closing the small distance between you in a way that feels both casual and deliberate. You have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and the sheer size of him—the breadth of his shoulders, the quiet power in the way he moves—leaves you breathless.

“You’re not used to being teased, are you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, his eyes locked on yours.

“I—” Your voice catches, and you realize too late that you’ve stepped back, your hips pressing against the edge of the counter. There’s nowhere else to go, and Nanami is still so close, his presence consuming every bit of space around you.

He leans in, just enough for you to feel the faintest brush of his breath against your skin. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his tone dipping lower, “I’ll go easy on you.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest, and you can’t tell if you’re more terrified or exhilarated. All you know is that you’re standing on the edge of something, and there’s no turning back now.

The air between you is thick and suffocating, charged with something neither of you have spoken aloud but both of you feel. You’re pinned by his gaze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as if the weight of his presence alone is enough to keep you still.

Then, without warning, Nanami moves.

It happens so fast you barely register it. His large hands grip your waist, firm and unyielding, and you let out a small gasp as he lifts you as though you weigh nothing at all. In a matter of seconds, you’re perched on the counter, your legs dangling, your pulse roaring in your ears.

“Nanami—” you start, but the words are cut off the moment he steps between your legs, his hands still holding you steady, his grip both commanding and careful.

He leans in close, his face inches from yours, and for a moment, you think he’s going to say something. But then his lips are on yours, and the world tilts on its axis.

“Kento. Call me Kento, please”

The kiss is nothing like you’d imagined—though you’d imagined it more times than you care to admit. It’s not rushed or frantic; it’s slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that pulls every ounce of air from your lungs and leaves you clinging to him for stability. His lips are soft but firm, moving against yours with a precision that makes your head spin.

His hands shift, one sliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, while the other cradles the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. The contrast between the strength of his grip and the tenderness of his touch is intoxicating, and you find yourself melting into him, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips. His eyes meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, but there’s a softness there too, a quiet restraint that makes your chest ache.

You swallow hard, your fingers still fisting his shirt as if letting go would send you tumbling into the abyss. “Kento, I—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His lips are on yours again, hungrier this time, and the sheer force of it leaves you breathless. His hands explore your waist, your hips, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

But even in his passion, there’s a control to him, a carefulness that speaks to his nature. He doesn’t rush or take more than you’re willing to give; he waits, letting you set the pace, letting you guide him.

Your hands slide up his chest, over the broad expanse of muscle that feels impossibly solid beneath your fingertips. You can feel the way his heart pounds beneath your palm, and the knowledge that you’re the cause of it sends a thrill through you.

When you finally break apart, both of you panting, your eyes meet again, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small, almost bashful smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Me too,” you confess, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

His smile grows, and for a moment, you see a glimpse of something softer, something vulnerable in his expression. “Then let me do it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours once more.

And this time, when he kisses you, it feels like the start of something neither of you can stop

The dishes now forgotten about as Nanami presses himself between your legs, hands gripping your hips with a need. Your hands now making their way through his neat hair, pulling on the strands of gold, a few of them falling into his face. His lips pressed against yours so feverishly, this kiss was faster now, more passionate now as his hands travelled up your side, his touch burning through you skin.

Your deft fingers are toying with the hem of his shirt now, giving it a gentle tug, begging silently for him to remove it.

He breaks the kiss, and you worry you’ve taken it to far. But when you see that look on his face, his glistening lips and heaving chest you know you’re both thinking the same thing

“Do you want this?” he questions, his voice low and rough.

You couldn’t get your brain to function, too full of sinful thoughts to even produce a sentence. All you can do is nod as you stare hungrily at him, his slightly more disheveled look making him even more attractive.

“Use your words darling, I need to hear you say it.” He’s holding himself back, waiting for his chance. Trying to keep to his gentlemanly mentality, but as his eyes graze over you figure sat so prettily on that counter, he can feel it slipping.

“I want this, ken.” Your voice is hoarse from the intense kiss you just shared.

Ken.

Fuck.

God that sounded so good coming from you. He needed more

Next thing you know you feel the sharp bite of the cool wood of your kitchen table, Nanami had grabbed you, sitting you on the table as his mouth met yours again. He takes his shirt off throwing it somewhere in the room and fuck

Holy fucking fuck

You knew he was built, but oh my god.

He looked like something out of a romance novel, his tanned skin stretching beautifully over his muscles, tensing as he gripped on your body that was dwarfed by his. His forearms - the veins. His fucking abs and that delicious little trail of golden hair that started at his belly button. God you wanted to see where it went, but his trousers shielded it from view cruelly.

You could orgasm from just looking at him.

“Concentrate darling” he murmured against your lips, you could feel the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t your fault he was built like some kind of Greek god. You could only muster a moan in response. that gave him a chance to slip his tongue on your mouth.

He couldn’t believe he finally had you like this, all the times he had gone home after repairing something for you, imaging how he could bend you over that counter you were leaning against while you watched him work, imagining how you would look as he eased himself inside you. And now here you where whimpering into his kisses. Fuck he could hardly think straight. He was trying to be respectful, but it was hard when you were biting his lips after his kisses.

Your own shirt was soon to join his in being discarded somewhere in the room. His bare skin against yours felt fucking amazing, he pulled you close around him, one of his muscular arms wrapping around your back. Your tits pressed up sluttily against his chest and he could feel himself hardening at the sensation.

You made a mental note tot thank yourself for wearing a skirt this evening, giving nanami easy access to the skin underneath.

His huge hands trailed down to your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your legs spread so sweetly for his as he traced over the sensetive skin of your inner thighs, his hands teasing just like his tone as they refused to go any higher than the hem of your skirt. Just dancing at the end of the fabric.

You couldn’t stop yourself, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you pushed his hand up your skirt. He chuckled into the kiss as your eagerness.

With your legs spread so perfectly for him he was able to get a perfect view of your panties, he broke the kiss for a moment as he watched his hand bunch up the fabric of your skirt as it went further and further up your leg, stopping when he spotted the colour of your panties.

They so happened to be red, matching the beautiful floral lace material of your bra as well

Fucking hell

Of course you were wearing a matching set.

“Jesus christ sweetheart, anyone would think you’ve planned this.” He meant for his tone to be teasing, but with you silence and flushed face he knew there was some truth to this fact. God you were going to be the death of him, you were staring up at him like an angel, like you were the most innocent thing ever, but Nanami knew better.

“Shit- you did, didn’t you?” His hand was braver now, ghosting over your clothed pussy as he spoke, eyes never leaving your face. You gasped at the sensation, his touch was good, but not enough - you needed more

“Bet you’ve been breaking stuff around here huh?” Your hips bucking lightly, trying to meet his hand, to get him to apply a bit more pressure. He was lightly hovering over your clit now, he knew what he was doing to you.

“Ken-“ you went to beg him, but he cut you off. His hand pinning your hips to the table, stopping the pathetic humping.

“You naughty girl, messing around just to get me to come over.”

You were fucking gone at this point, your whole body must’ve been a shade of pink with how flustered he was making you. You never expected these sort of words to come out of his mouth, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

A sharp tug and you panties were gone, he fucking ripped them off you. You gasp as you stare at him pocketing the broken material.

“Such a dirty girl..” He trails off, entranced by the sight of your glistening cunt. His eyes were predatory, and you could see his resolve break.

His thick fingers swipe through the wetness of your folds and a echoing moan is ripped from you. He brings his fingers up, holding them in the dim light of the room as they glisten.

“So wet for your neighbour, sweetheart.” He smirks at you, fingers retreating to your begging cunt. delving through your slick folds as you can do nothing but take it, his hand still pinning any movement you attempt to make. The ease at which he was pinning you was an addition to your already fucked out brain.

His fingers quickly found your clit, drawing quick circles around the bundle or nerves. Your hands gripping at the tables edge, knuckles turning white as his movements never ceased.

His jaw tightening, god you were so fucking wet for him. Those gorgeous little whines that escaped you were noises he has only ever dreamed of. He knew he needed more immediately.

He didnt waste anytime before sinking his thick digits into you, relishing in the way your eyes shut and head dropped back, your teeth biting you lip despite the moan that sounded from you. You were wrapped so snug around him, he couldn’t stop from wondering how delicious it would feel as he slid each inch of his throbbing cock inside you.

His fingers reaching so much deeper than yours ever could, brushing against that spongey spot inside of you with each thrust, his palm pressed against you clit as he moved. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached for his muscular frame, pulling him into you as you clung into him. Your head hiding in his neck, crying out for him. Your nails digging into the muscles on his back

“F-fuck” You groaned out, you could hear the sounds you pussy was making as it greedily accepted Kento’s fingers.

“That’s it sweetheart, take it for me. Good girl” he whispers so reassuring, so sensual.

He’s only been fucking you on his fingers for a few minutes, but you could already feel your orgasm impending.

His fingers were like nothing you had ever felt before, better than any stupid toy you have bought, trying to imagine him while you were fucking yourself, better than any expensive vibrator.

“Ken-Please! Ah-‘ In that moment you didn’t know exactly what it was you were begging for, but you knew you just needed more. Your orgasm have never approached so strong before, your body tingling with excitement for the orgasm that was approaching. A smile on your fucked out face, a dry laugh interrupted by a moan. Fuck this was good.

Your manners never leaving you, even as you came on his fingers as he held you close, intense waves of pleasure wagging over your body as you shook. Even as your small frame trembled he didn’t stop, he wanted you to get the most out of how good you were feeling

“good girl” he kissed you head as your breathing started to slow, your chest heaving as you tried to suck in air. You can’t even remember the last time you had cum that hard - you don’t think you ever had.

Slowly pulling your head out of the crease of his neck, staring up at him with pure adoration in your eyes, it was enough for you to confess your love for him in that very moment. But it would be best to save that for later you thought.

“Im not finished with you yet love. Bend over this table and let me fix this leaking pussy of yours.” His voice was deep, laced with the lust that filled the air.

Without a second thought you comply, jumping down off the table, bending over. Soaked cunt on full display

Kento cursed himself mentally, it was going to be hard from holding himself back from splitting you in half. You were so good, too good. The way you listened so perfectly, and that look in your eyes after you came almost gave him a heart attack.

His warm hands tracing over the skin of your ass, kneading the plump skin between his hands. Relishing in the feeling of your perfectly soft skin. He couldn’t help and admire how perfect you looked for him.

You were practically quivering from excitement. You were so wet you were sure it was going to start leaking down your legs if ken didnt hurry up and fuck you. You let out a pathetic squeal as you heard the clinking of his belt as he finally freed himself

His throbbing cock standing tall as the rosy red tip leaked pre-cum, he didnt think he had ever been so hard before in his life. His cock begging to be shoved so deep inside of you it was making it hard for him to think straight.

You waited patiently as he lined himself up with your entrance, only to be disappointed to find he was just teasing you, he slowly drags himself through your wet fold, the stimulation wasn’t enough, but it still had you mewling for him like a bitch in heat.

Even nanami couldn’t take it much longer, watching your hips try and catch him, shuffling back in a silent beg for him to sheath himself inside you. Slowly, teasingly he slipped inside, only the first few inches. But I was enough to have you moaning out for him

“Fuck, More! Kentoooo.” You begged. It felt fucking amazing to finally have him inside, but you needed more and you weren’t feeling particularly patient about it. That delicious burn of the stretch of his girthy cock was only teasing you more. Your mind whirling with thoughts of him fucking you

Those thoughts soon silenced by a swift slap on your ass, leaving the skin blotting with shades of pink as you jolt forward at the sudden contact

“Oh? Where did your manners go pretty girl?” He smooths over the redden skin, admiring how good his handprint looked on your skin “or are you too full of cock to think?”

You’re whining underneath him now, who knew he could be so mean. You loved it. Your cock drunk brain only thinking about one thing as you tried to shimmy your hips back, forcing him further into you. Your hips stilled instantly when you recieved another slap to you ass.

“Shit! Sorry ken, please fuck me.” Much better kento thought to himself. You really needed it soon, your eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill

The golden haired man was generous enough to oblige you more polite request, slipping inside you welcoming cunt even further, balls pressing against your hips when hes finally fully inside you.

The moan that he let out was absolutely guttural, lord you felt even better than he could’ve ever imagined. He hadn’t even moved yet and you were squeezing the life out of him. And that little noise you made, he was going to be thinking about that for weeks. The way you moan so sweetly for him when he finally gives you what you want. That was something he wanted to hear every fucking day

“Good girl” praise had never sounded better than when it came from nanami, that one comment had you whole body on fire. Your tits pressed up against the hard wood of the table, hard nipples tingling against your skin.

Finally he started moving, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, before he picked up his pace, brutally thrusting himself inside your welcoming walls. It felt like he was even deeper than before, like you could feel him in your throat, not that you were complaining of course.

“So slutty for me, begging me to come over when we both knew this is what you wanted all along.” He was rambling to himself, but you were hanging on every word “Not that I care, you could break every - fuck- every piece of furniture in this house and I’d come and fix it. Just to see your face.”

God what a man, how could he be so teasing, so dirty one second. To then hit you with a sentence that had your legs and heart melting for him.

His hand gripping at your hip, while the other snuck up your back, grabbing your hair and tugging at it lightly, raising your head from the table.

He pressed himself deep into you, “you like that sweetheart huh? You like it when im sweet to you?” His movement pausing, ordering your to give him an answer

“Y-yes- Oh Fuckkkk- ken I love it” youre quivering against him once more, the sensations of your previous orgasm still lingering, intensifying ever move the man behind you was making. He seemed pleased with you answer as his hips resumed their merciless thrusting. His bulbous tip hitting that spongey part deep inside your cunt. The one that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, that familiar rising of another orgasm soon approaching

“Fuck you- haha- so perfect for me, so tight.” You were certain you might die if he kept talking to you like this, his rough voice travelling into your ears like honey. You could listen to him for hours.

“Wanted to f-fuck you for hours, but with the way your sweet little cunt is gripping me-“ hes cut off mid sentence to a deep groan. You little minx, you squeezed around him. A broken giggle leaving your lips before he fucked it away, replacing it with those moans he was so enjoying

“Fucking brat, should cum so deep in this pussy- Oh? Does my pretty girl like the sounds of that” that pathetic noise of your whimpers giving you away, shamelessly you nodded your head, you wanted nothing more than to have his cum leaking from your used hole.

You were surely going to be the death of him, so dirty. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, good because neither where you.

“Oh my- im gonna-“ You tried to get the words out, but you couldnt help but gasp as the pleasure of his cock stroking against your velvety walls

“Cum for me pretty girl.” He was fucking feral now, the noises coming for you pretty pussy, those squelches. You were fucking soaked, gripping him so tight. ”Fuck- need it, come on pretty”

It didn’t take much more than that, you were gushing all over him, juices overflowing around his cock. His eyes rolling back at the sight “Kento!” Was the only thing you could think to scream as you came.

Hips hips guiding you through the ride of your orgasm, not stopping even when your thighs were shaking. The grip he had on your hair tightening now as he chased his own orgasm. God he was amazing, almost too good. You couldn’t still yourself from the overstimulation. Squirming against him, mewling for mercy.

“I know baby, I know” he tried to soothe you, his balls tightening.

He came with a moan, your name more specifically. You had never heard anything better.

Hot spurts of cum coating your walls as his hips planted himself deep inside of your begging cunt.

You both stayed like that for a moment, his head drooping as he tried to compose himself, you panting against the table as your legs still shook.

When he was ready, he pulled out of you with a light gasp, helping you up as he carried you bridal style to your bedroom. Helping tuck you into bed after cleaning you both up

You both just lay there, basking in each other presence. His gentle kisses to your head and murmurs of sweet nothing lulled you off into one of the best sleeps of your life

You should’ve invited him over for dinner ages ago.

[weneeya]

Hello!! I don't know if you like that idea, but would you make haikyuu boys with the tiktok trend “a boy who's jacked and kind”? I thought this would fit so many of them (iwa, ushijima, bokuto… SO MANY 😭)

jacked and kind w/ iwaizumi, ushijima, bokuto, kuroo m.list | rules

note. OMG YOUR BRAIN?? you're a genius i love this idea sm ofc i'm gonna do it!! hope you'll enjoy it, don't hesitate to do requests guys <3

Iwaizumi Hajime

You were laying on the couch of your living room, scrolling on your phone through the different trends on TikTok right now. You were a bit bored, until you noticed your boyfriend, Iwaizumi, entering the room. He sat next to you, completely silent, and you decided that it was time to have some fun. 

You began to scroll through the videos of the “jacked and kind” trend where guys put their girls on a shoulder. Yes, you secretly hoped that Iwaizumi would do this with you, but you also knew he would never say yes if you asked him to do the video with you. You needed to be more tricky. 

After a few videos with the same sound, your boyfriend glanced at your phone. When he noticed the video playing on your screen, a light frown appeared on his face, putting his own phone to the side. He was interested ; good for you. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked, leaning closer to you to have a better look at the screen. You looked at him, and explained the trend to him. He shrugged his shoulders, not convinced even a little. 

“Doesn’t seem so hard, why is he struggling so much?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. Great, it was exactly what you wanted. 

“You think you wouldn’t struggle?” you asked him, and you noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He stood up from the couch and motioned you to do the same. He was never saying no to a challenge. 

“Let me just…” You put your phone in a good position so it would be able to capture the scene perfectly. You walked back to him, turning around to face the camera. He put his hands on your waist, and in a silent agreement, he picked you up like you weighed nothing. He put you on his shoulder, and you stayed there for a moment before he put you back on the floor. 

You cut the video, putting it in your drafts. No one other than you needed to see how strong your boyfriend was. His flexed arms were only for you. You turned around to look at him, andIwaizumi had his arms crossed and a grin playing on his lips. 

“See? Wasn’t so hard.” He really was a proud idiot, and it made you roll your eyes with an amused smile. You could not deny it though ; it really seemed to be a piece of cake for him. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ushijima was a dense man, the type who does not understand simple things because it simply did not make sense to him. And those trends? They were far from anything he could understand easily. You tried a few times, but your boyfriend did not seem to get it. But this time, it had to be different, because you really wanted him to do this one. Jacked and kind? It was perfect for him, he could not escape it. 

He was busy with a book, laying on the bed, when he heard you enter the room. He almost immediately looked up from his book to meet your eyes. He slowly raised an eyebrow when he noticed how excited you seemed to be. Ushijima put his book to the side, sitting back up on the bed and waiting for you to begin your explanations. 

“Can you just follow me, please? I want to try something!” You told him, and as he was not the type to complain, he just stood up and walked behind you as you led him to the living room. 

Your phone was already in its place, ready to keep in memory the moment forever. You stood up in front of your boyfriend, back facing him, and led his hands to your waist. You glanced at him from above your shoulder, and you saw the loss on his face. 

“I need you to pick me up, and put me on your shoulder. You think you can do that?” You asked, and his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he still did not understand what you were trying to do. Yet, it disappeared quickly and he nodded at your words. 

In no time, you were sitting on Ushijima’s shoulder who was holding you there like you were nothing more than a feather to him. He looked at you, almost like it did not ask him for any effort. 

“You can put me down now,” you told him, and he did as you say, your feet gently meeting the ground again. You cut the video, looking at it for a moment. He was so adorable with his lost face, but his arms were sending mixed feelings in your stomach. 

You walked back to him, leaving a soft kiss against his cheek. You thanked him with a smile, and Ushijima did not need more than this. He did not understand a single thing but if you were satisfied and happy, he could not ask for better.

Bokuto Koutarou

“I want to do this!” said Bokuto when he saw the video playing on your phone, looking at it from above your shoulder. He had his arms wrapped around you, keeping your back pressed against his chest. He even held you a bit tighter before of how excited he was at the idea of showing off how he could pick you up so easily. 

You could not deny anything to this boy when he was so happy. Well, you could never deny him, but especially not when he was like this. You put your phone on record mode, placing it a bit far so it could capture your two figures better. 

Bokuto stood up behind you, putting his hands on your waist, already ready to pick you up. He glanced at you to ask if you were too, and your small nod was everything he needed. He pulled you in the air, and the second after you were sitting on his shoulder while he held you there. He was so proud of himself, you could tell by the large smile on his lips. 

He laughed a bit, before he began to do small spins with you on his shoulder, showing off how strong he was. It made you chuckle seeing how excited he was, before he put you back down on the floor. You moved away from him to turn off the camera, and he was impatiently waiting behind you to see the video. 

“Was I good? I was, right?” He asked, and you swore he looked like a cute puppy who wanted to hear how much of a good boy he was. You looked back at him with a smile, nodding softly. 

“The best.” You replied, and you could not say anything else because he picked you up once again to carry you around the room, all happy and overexcited. Bokuto really loved to have you in his arms, there was no doubt about this.

Kuroo Tetsurou

“I am jacked and kind!” Kuroo was walking right behind you as you shook your head. You glanced at him from above your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. You eyed him from head to toe, before you shrugged your shoulders. 

“Maybe jacked, but not so kind,” you teased, and he took an offended face, resting a hand against his chest. You both knew it was nothing serious, only a playful banter as always. 

“Rude.” He told you, before he shifted to be in front of you, stopping you in your steps to the kitchen. There was no way he would let you run away from this so easily. He was going to show how jacked and kind he could be if he wanted to. 

“Take the video, let the world see how great your boyfriend is.” Kuroo flexed his arms while you were putting your phone in place to capture the moment. You rolled your eyes at his words before you walked back to him. 

“Talk less, show more.” You told him with a grin, before a light gasp left your lips. He had suddenly picked you up to put on his shoulder without a warning. A smirk appeared on his lips, and he looked up at you with an eyebrow raised suggestively. Your only answer was a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms. 

He chuckled a bit before he slowly put you down, but not to the floor. He carried you in bridal style, so you would be forced to look at him this time. “Not kind, uh?” This bastard, you loved him so much. You pushed his shoulder slightly before he put you down, all giggling because of how proud he was of himself. 

You turned off the video, keeping it to yourself. There was no way you would let anyone else see how he made you react when he was like this. He would be too happy to see the reactions of the people on the Internet.

thank you sm <3

[pinkboaclub]

Musician Ex-Boyfriend

Summery: You and Harry are exes, on the day of your wedding, he pays you a visit, causing you to rethink things.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, cheating (not on Harry), fem!reader

"You look perfect."

You turned at the sound of his voice, and there he stood—Harry, in a sharp black, the sincerity on his face was palpable.

It was your wedding day, but not the one you’d envisioned. The love of your life wasn’t the man currently getting ready. No, he was standing in the doorway, on the verge of being caught.

You’d snuck away to collect yourself. You’d told your bridesmaids all day that you were close to tears from happiness, but that wasn’t the truth. It was fear, anxiety, regret—things you’d spent months ignoring, burying under a carefully constructed smile.

You quickly scanned the open room, making sure no one could see him.

“You can’t be here,” you said, your voice tight with urgency as you strode over to him, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood. “If someone sees you, they’ll start talking, they’ll—”

Before you could finish, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you into the empty hallway. His hands found your waist, pulling you into him, his warmth and familiar scent filling your senses. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart racing as you checked again. No one was around.

"Harry, please," you whispered, trying to steady your breath, feeling the sting of tears rise again. "This isn’t right."

"I didn’t think you would go through with it." His voice was flat, emotionless, his eyes avoiding yours.

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. You had met Harry when you were both 25. It was supposed to be casual—two people who shared a love for music, books, and movies. He’d been on tour with his band, and you’d happened to be in the same restaurant with friends when they all decided to head to a club. That’s where you two started talking, the connection immediate, as if you’d known each other forever.

The texts started right after, every day, just a few words at first, then entire conversations that lasted into the early hours of the morning. His tour ended, and soon enough, long-distance visits turned into real dates. Three years of love, laughter, and dreams of a future together. A future that seemed so certain until life, with all its complexity and distance, pulled you apart.

It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual—the small, constant strain that turned into arguments about who was too busy, who wasn’t putting in enough effort. And then, finally, the break-up. The day you sat on the couch in your shared home, too many unsaid words filling the air, the silence louder than anything you could say.

“I love you so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” Harry had sobbed, turning toward you with pleading eyes. You didn’t answer, unable to speak through your own tears.

You didn’t even know how it had happened, but you went from sitting on your couch crying, to laying on the couch, kissing with drying tears on your cheeks, ripping each other's clothes off. Maybe it was a last resort to salvage something, maybe it was an intense goodbye, you never really knew.

After that, you stayed friends. You kept up the pretense for everyone else. Friends, family—they all still thought you’d get back together. Harry even brought it up a few times, and you’d feel that pull, that ache in your chest. Of course, you thought about it. How could you not? But the idea of losing him again, of having to grieve the loss for a second time, felt unbearable.

And yet, here he was, on the most important day of your life, not as the man you were about to marry, but as the man you once thought you’d spend forever with.

“I have to,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “I have to marry him.”

“Why?” Harry’s voice cracked, his frustration palpable. “Why him? Why do you need to? Nobody believes you actually want this.” His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading for something.

You didn’t have an answer that would make sense to him—or to yourself. All you knew was that your future, the one you’d once pictured with Harry, had slipped away, and now the only choice left was the one that terrified you the most.

You stood there, caught between two worlds—two versions of yourself, each one tugging you in a different direction. Harry’s eyes stared into yours, demanding something you couldn’t give. You wished you could explain it all to him, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“I do want this,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you believed it. “But... I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to do the right thing, and I’ve convinced myself it’s what I want. But—” You stopped yourself before the tears could fall. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Harry’s hands were still around you, his grip tight, like he was trying to pull you into a reality where the two of you could make it work. But it wasn’t that simple. You’d both changed, grown in ways that made that dream of forever feel distant, impossible.

“I just wanted you to know,” Harry’s voice softened. “That I never stopped loving you. I never stopped hoping… I didn’t think you would go through with this. Not like this.”

Your chest tightened at the words. They hit harder than you anticipated. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t think I could either. But… I need to. For me.”

“For him, you mean,” Harry corrected, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. Hurt? Anger? Maybe both. But there was a quiet desperation in his voice that made it hard to breathe.

You hesitated. “He’s a good man. And I do love him. I do. But it’s not... the same.”

Harry’s jaw clenched at your words, but he didn’t pull away. He just stared at you, his eyes dark, like they were holding back everything he wanted to say.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said softly, almost too quietly for you to hear. “You’re pretending because it’s easier than facing the truth. You know it’s not right. But you’re too scared to admit it.”

The weight of his words made your heart skip a beat. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the gnawing feeling in your gut, the one that told you he was right.

“I’m not scared,” you said, but the words felt hollow. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

Harry took a step closer, his voice urgent now, low and rough. “What if the right thing isn’t what you’ve convinced yourself it is? What if you’re meant to be with me?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, it was like time stopped. His presence enveloped you—the same pull you’d felt all those years ago, that same undeniable chemistry that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. But now, everything is different.

“I can’t,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I can’t go through that again, Harry. I can’t lose you and have to pick up the pieces of me after. I don’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

“I’d never hurt you again,” he promised, his voice cracking with emotion. “I swear. I’d never let you go, not like I did before. Please, just—just think about it. Really think about what you’re about to do.”

The silence stretched between you two, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

Finally, you spoke, your voice trembling. “I can’t do this right now, Harry. Not today. Not when I’m about to be married, something I’ve promised to commit to. Please… just go.”

His face fell, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back, looking at you one last time, his expression full of pain and love and the remnants of hope.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll always be here, waiting for you. No matter what.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, the echo of his footsteps still ringing in your ears.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your mind spinning with everything Harry had just said. His words—his love, his pain—still hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.

But you had made a promise. To him, to yourself, and to the man you were about to marry. You had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like you were walking into the unknown.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, taking a deep breath as you turned to face the door at the end of the hall. The moment was passing, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

The sharp click of another pair of heels echoed from the other end of the hall, and you barely registered it before Aaliyah rounded the corner, her expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“There you are! I was starting to think I’d lost you for good! I-what’s wrong?” She halted in her tracks, eyes scanning your face, a frown forming as she looked at the tear stains streaking down your cheeks.

You quickly wiped your face, not caring that your makeup was surely ruined. "I—uhm," you faltered, struggling to find the words. "I’m just... nervous."

You almost told her everything. You wanted to. Aaliyah had been there for you through all of it—through the endless debates over whether or not you should try again with Harry. She knew the truth. She’d always known. But today wasn’t the day for honesty. Today was for pretending, for keeping the peace, for stepping into the life you thought you’d chosen.

“Oh, I know it’s stressful, but it’ll all be okay!” Aaliyah said, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting hug. You leaned into her warmth, her helping for only a moment. "I think I just need a little more time alone. To clear my head. Maybe go up to my room for a bit, have some water, a snack, you know?"

She hesitated for a split second, her eyes lingering on you as if she could see right through your smile, but she nodded, understanding your need for space. “Alright, I’ll stay down here. Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

“Promise,” you said, offering a small smile as you hugged her back, then hurried past her, your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way toward the elevator.

You had rented a hotel suite for the bridal party to get ready, a place where you could unwind and prepare. Your fiancée had his own room, staying with his groomsmen, where they were now. You had also reserved a hotel room for you and your fiancé to stay in before your honey moon in two days… so, now you had a free room to be alone in—well, almost alone.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you closed the door behind you with a soft click. You slowly slipped off the silk robe you’d been wearing, the one that said “Bride” in sparkling letters across your back, and traded it for the simple hotel robe draped on the back of the bathroom door.

Then you pulled out your phone, scrolling far down your contacts. Your thumb hesitated for just a second before you started typing.

“If you’re still in the hotel, I’m on floor 4, room 415. If you meant what you said, I’ll be here, waiting.”

A sharp knock at the door made you jump. Your heart pounded in your chest as you forced your legs to move toward it, each step heavy and unsteady. When you opened the door, there he stood, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I can't marry him," you murmured, barely audible. The weight of the words broke something inside you, and tears began to spill down your cheeks.

Without hesitation, Harry stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. He closed the door softly behind him, the world outside suddenly fading away. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you in reality.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked, searching for the words you had meant to say. But they escaped you. Instead, with a sudden, desperate impulse, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was everything you’d missed, everything you’d been longing for—and it felt like home.

"I am scared by how much I want this, how much I want you." You finally said after you pulled away from your kiss. Harry tucked your hair behind your eye, taking a moment to admire your features before speaking.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me…of us…because I know-I know it would work this time. Were not as young, we know how to balance our schedules, and we know what it’s like to not be with each other. I love you so much Y/N”

Before you could cry anymore, you caved in to everything you knew you wanted. You kissed him again, this time leading him to the hotel bed.

"I am devoted to you," He murmurs as he unties your robe, his eyes not leaving your face. You both lay back. He watches the way your eyes widen when he moves one hand between your thighs to tenderly touch your core. "Let me please you," He knows he sounds needy, but he can't help it as he looks upon the woman he would do anything for.

“Please do.”

He took his eyes from your face and let them travel down your body, this was the first time he had seen you like this since you had broken up. He took in every inch of you, your beautiful bra-clad breasts, your rapidly moving stomach as you breathed. Then, your legs. Your left leg had a white lace garter belt on it. His hand slowly traveled up until he got to the garter belt.

“Supposed to be a tradition…a very odd one.” You broke the silence.

“I’m not complaining.”

He slowly pulled off the belt, your underwear following it.

He moves forward and leaves a trail of kisses along the soft skin of your abdomen and then down over your quivering thighs as his hand moves between your legs, letting his finger slip into you.

After watching the first drop of your arousal slide down his index finger, he had enough. He pulls his hand back and grips your thighs to keep you still while his mouth devours you.

Your soft little moans and attempts at saying his name make him grip you tighter, using his tongue in even more intricate ways just to coax out more of your sweetness, more of your angelic sounds. He squeezes one of your thighs and then slides his hand up along your side until his hand finds yours. He twines your fingers together, and then he gets back to devouring you like he was starving.

"I need more, Harry, please," You beg so prettily that he considers asking you to do so again, but he feels like it would be cruel after you’ve been so patient.

"Of course,"

He kisses you deeply to drown the pained whimper when he pushes his cock inside you without a pause, thinking it’s best if he gets the painful part over with as fast as possible. He grunts against your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He stays still and kisses away your tears until you start laughing beneath him.

You’re the one who indicates that he is allowed to move by grinding your hips up against his. He hums in understanding and starts to thrust into you again. You too get lost as he find a perfect rhythm.

He flips you over with one quick motion after he has watched your breasts bounce for too many agonising moments without being able to do anything with them, his mouth becomes focused on them, finding the spots that make you cry out his name as loudly as you could.

“Fuck, baby.” He says, admiring your body continuously bouncing up and down. You move quicker at his encouraging words, riding him faster than you thought you could.

He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, twisting his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other with his hand.

You rock your hips back and forth, feeling the familiar surge of warmth spread through your body like—the same warmth he could only give you, one that was 10x stronger than your fiancé could have ever given you.

Your orgasm soon followed. You didn’t care about how loud you were. You didn’t care if someone walked in right now, you’d almost prefer it, maybe it would be your fiancé, or someone you both knew, they would tell him you snuck up to your room to ride the musician ex boyfriend, then you wouldn’t have to do it yourself.

“I-fuck Harry, it’s…” You stop, letting yourself moan from the euphoria you’re feeling. “It’s so good.” You finally spit out.

He chuckles at your inability to properly express your blissful feelings and tangles his fingers in your hair to pull you down for a deep kiss. He lets out a low groan as your fingers dig into his chest, followed by the shuddering of your body and the clenching of your walls around him that prompt him to spill his cum inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters as he tears his mouth away from yours. He knows neither of you should have done that, however, as Harry looks up at your blissed expression, he does not regret it, not one bit.

His arms wrap around your torso, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He lightly rubbed his fingers up and down your back. The only thing that could be heard in the room was your heavy breathing.

“I love you, Harry.”