#and I don’t want to continue annoying people and adding to that feeling

[deityofhearts]

as of rn the general november vibe is “if you want to keep talking to me then you have to do so first because unless you’re one of maybe ten people (and that’s being generous with the number) I do not think you want to hear from me” so if you DO want to hear from me then you have to make that known, otherwise idk, we’ll see

#deity dialogue #we shall see how long I last this time #probably once I realize people are going to actually reach out to me first but I start to miss hearing from them because that’s typically #what happens #idk how to articulate how I feel #I don’t like dislike or blame anyone for me feeling the way that I do #but I very much am upset and feel like I’m trying to hard and that it’s a burden and that I need to stop trying to get peoples attention and #trying to get people to talk to me #but this post itself could also be seen as another pathetic attempt to get people to actually want to talk to me #blah blah crystal you’re so sad and pathetic this is why you’re friends all hate you ♥️ #it’s just another case of crystal feels like they’re nothing and they should stop trying because it doesn’t matter whether they do or not #and it seems easier to just stop trying to force myself into relationships but it also hurts to stop as well #oh hey I finally started crying I’ve been trying to cry all day so I can it out of my system #who knew all it took was once again thinking about how stupid I and my feelings are lmao #basically I’m having a hard time with like feeling wanted and like I’m not an annoyance lately #and I don’t want to continue annoying people and adding to that feeling #so if you want to hear from me then I’d love that I love my friends I love hearing from y’all #I just am dumb and upset and stupid

[corollaservant]

Hate Me (18+, jealous/paranoid f!reader, multi, smut in a tub, nip piercings, song inspo, image creds)

it was awkward to fight with him on vacation. it meant you had to be silently staring at each other across the spa’s private bathtub he had booked. he was on the other end of the tub and huffed in annoyance, his hands wet, the towel and phone away from his reach as you were coldly staring at him for the past 20 minutes. the fight occurred because the waitress had flirted with him while you took your breakfast this morning and he had obviously flirted back. Ok maybe he hadn’t, you certainly thought he did though. He always had that pretty smile on his face, always appreciating the hotel and tourist service people and well..he seemed very popular among the staff. 

‘’i literally told her thank you, babe’’ he exhales as he rolls his eyes. you’ve been having this debate for some time now and while he wants to explain further, he fears there is nothing more to elaborate on.

‘’there was no reason to smile like that?’’ 

‘’like what?’’ he raises his voice, it’s absurd he thinks.

‘’you know exactly what I mean. i know damn well you didn’t give the same smile to that lobby boy yesterday’’ you slightly realize the argument is dumb, childish really, its point barely holding up against him. he is used to this and doesn’t mind, in fact most times he thinks it’s cute in a twisted way, your emotions show too easily. the problem is this time he senses you’re more serious about it and wants to end this quickly. 

‘’baby’’ he sighs. ‘’i promise, there was no thought behind it, okay?’’ he smiles as he opens his arms signaling for you to come close. 

‘’it’s always the same excuse with you. last time, you didn’t remember whose likes you were in, then it was the lady giving you free chocolates and adding a heart to your coffee cup-’’ you continue. ‘’we both got coffees that day!’’

‘’this is getting out of hand.’’ he replies, his voice is composed, like usual but the tone is firm. ‘’i can’t keep arguing like this, you keep testing me, measuring my love when you know that I love you. i show it every fucking day so what's the fucking deal?’’ he is annoyed and angered, you can tell by the way his eyes flicker, if they were laser tags and you his target, they'd burn through your frontal lobe. 

he was always the 'de-escalator' in such situations, you’d spout some unserious accusation, he’d provide logical feedback and you’d end up either mute, huffing in annoyance or fucked dumb. in this instance he chose to splash water in your direction, playfully but not too much. the action obviously annoyed you and in an attempt to defend yourself you splashed him back vigorously but he ducked his head underwater as you felt his arms grab your waist. he reemerged and brought your body close to his, quick reflexes leaving no room for resistance- he always managed to have you on his territory, never the other way around. his toned back was pressed against the cold tiles as your bodies were hardly separated, the only thing between you both water and bubbles from the somehow turned on jacuzzi button. 

‘’i really fucking hate you’’ you whisper against his face, his hands sealed around your waist as you float underwater, pushed back and forth on his torso, your tiny bikini top touching his chest ever so slightly. 

‘’you don’t mean that and you know it’’ he coos, bringing you closer, so close that you have to wrap your legs around him (or at least open them up to fit, you justify) so that you’re resting atop him, a poke teasing under your bikini. 

‘i do’’ you state but his fingers have already started trailing your back, which makes you unwillingly shiver as he moves them towards your hips, placing both palms on your ass and squeezing hard. 

‘’then why don’t you show me how much, huh?’’ he breathes on your neck, rubbing himself against your entrance. since you’re in water, you sense the direct contact, your soaked bikini feels bare against his strained trunks and you softly moan. 

‘’I- will not–be having–’ you are being cut off by his lips on you as he pushes you further down on him, chest on his naked torso and he grins.

‘’not what? sex with me?’’ he smirks. he wants to taste your delicate skin, he can’t stop thinking of your tits in that tiny bikini top, spilling and revealing your nipple piercings by default. ever since you got them pierced he could see them hard almost 24/7. he slides the top to your sides and grabs a handful while his other hand guides your lower back to grind against his erection, the feeling’s overbearing and you moan, needy for more but still pissed off he slowly wins you over. 

‘’doesn’t look like it’’ he continues, as he puts the softness of your fat in his mouth, his tongue swirls around the nipple piercing and he swallows; metallic and sweet, just how he likes it. 

‘’baby..ah p–please..’’ you mewl, his tongue feels too good but you’re always so impatient, always wanting to get fucked before he can tease and since you started this petty fight, he thinks he might as well enjoy it a bit longer. 

‘’what is it sweetheart?’’ he inquires, diverting his attention to your pouting face. he has perfected his oblivious stare and concealed it so well, he knows exactly what's up but wants to get it out of you.

‘’please..continue’’ you give in, a consistent ache pools below you and he wants to smirk but doesn’t allow himself. 

‘’oh?’’ ‘’but i thought you hated me?’’ the words linger.

‘’I do’’ you sigh and now he smirks. ‘’ but I- i ..that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to continue’’ you shamelessly admit.

‘’is that so?’’ he already knew how this would end up.

he moves his hands towards your core, it doesn’t take long for him to sense how wet you are despite the surroundings as he trails his fingers up and down your cunt. he slides your tiny bikini to the side, you look cute he thinks, tits flush with the top shoved out the way and wide eyes looking at him- anticipating. 

‘’i see you’re being very obedient now, how so?’’ he teases as he pushes two thick fingers in your core, they must fill you up well because he notices the way your mouth parts and your grip tightens on the back of his head.

‘’i.. don’t..know’’ you respond weakly, as he continues his rhythm, kissing your mouth, fingers building up your orgasm. he knows you too well by now, he knows exactly how to work his way into your cunt. 

he has patience; has always been a patient man but that patience can be worn thin and he doesn’t want to waste time. he figures overstimulating you back at the hotel room sounds more practical, he has more space and toys to use on you. plus he is slightly annoyed by the hotel spa room, not only for sanitary reasons but because he can’t feel you to the fullest. 

he exits his fingers moments after he picked up the pace and your moans became more frequent; one hand on your waist still in his embrace as he lets his cock spring free underwater. with zero delay he pushes your hips down on him, having run the tip across your clit, earning him a moan that made his cock jump. he doesn’t break eye contact so with that in mind he admires his dexterity for a second. 

you gasp loudly as you feel him entering you and he hushes you.

‘’be a good girl and be silent for me, please’’ he whispers but not as composed as he'd wish for as your walls have him trapped inside you, the pleasurable sensation highlighted by your hands gripping with small force the roots of his hair. it’s not strong, he smiles– but he appreciates the effort and it makes his cock twitch so he’ll take it.

he thrusts upwards and notices the way your mouth parts and legs tremble shortly after so he guesses he hit your g-spot. he’s filling you up well, the way his palms move your hips up and down, the water pressure and his gaze solely on your face make you grasp around him tightly, he intoxicates you and he unfortunately knows it.

‘’..i ..agh– hate ..you..’’ you murmur against his mouth, eyeing him up as you fall to pieces with each tantalizing thrust, you know you’re gonna come soon, he has you angled is such way that besides his cock pushing deeper and deeper, he brings your body so close that your clit touches his skin, applying extra pressure on your poor entrance. He can feel you on him, it drives him wild.

‘’i didn’t catch that’’ he says, ‘’would–you–repeat?’’ cock thrusting without relent to the tempo of each word as you bounce on his face and arch your head back. 

‘’i.. said.. oh fuck. baby- i said i ..hate–’’ you cut yourself off when you feel your orgasm take over, it starts from your hole (or maybe your clit, you can't bother to care) and spreads throughout your whole body as you tremble and tighten around him, his pace never faltering. 

You look so pretty when you come undone, he thinks

‘’ agh shit I hate you too baby.’’ he hisses and cums with a loud groan inside you, load shooting deep in your core as he moves to his own rhythm, digging his fingers in your hips and panting against your neck.

‘’so fucking much.’’

-

Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji (give him some credit), Dazai, Fyodor, Tecchou, Aizawa, Hawks, Chrollo, Levi + ur personal favs!

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #dazai x reader #fyodor x reader #tecchou x reader #aizawa x reader #hawks x reader #levi x reader #corollaservant

[f1goat]

his teammate + lando norris x part two

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + eventually smutty i wrote this before, but i'm rewriting it because i missed somethings. you can comment if you want to be added to a taglist :) thanks for reading!

masterlist x playlist

“He’s here!” Your brother yells at you. You don’t get it. Who’s here? Max and you are standing in a night club in the middle of Bahrein. Before his announcement - which you still don’t get - you spend your time dancing and drinking. Exactly what you were in the mood for. The drinks cause you to feel a bit drunk. Maybe you drank one too many. That thought doesn’t stop you from taking a sip from the sweet drink in your hand. 

You look at Max again. You still have no idea about who he’s talking. Something you do notice is his angry glance. You try to follow his glance to see at who he’s looking. Maybe you can figure it out that way? You don’t see it. It’s way too busy in the club for you to focus on the same person as Max. 

“Who’s here Max?” You ask confused.

“Him!” Max shouts. You notice the angry tone in his voice. This can’t be good. You still have no clue about who’s here, but it’s not a nice thing that that person is here. You look around again. Then you actually notice him. Of course, this is who Max is talking about. Why didn’t you think of him earlier? It’s not like Max doesn’t like a lot of people. At the moment it’s just one person who makes him this annoyed.

Of course is Lando Norris standing closely by Max and you. He’s not close enough to hear you talking, but you notice that he’s staring at you and Max. He noticed as well. That can’t be good. 

“Let’s go outside for a bit Max,” you try to get Max away from Lando, “We don’t have to talk with him. It’s better to ignore him.”

You notice that Lando is actually walking towards Max and you. This can’t be good. He’s almost standing in front of Max and you. You notice that he’s still coming closer with every second. Is he actually walking up to your brother and you right now? Is he an idiot? Max is sending him angry glares, but that doesn’t scare Lando off. He keeps walking closer towards you two. Fuck. 

“Max, come on. Let’s go away from here,” you continue to say to your brother. You grab his arm and try to pull him with you. It’s no use. Max stays standing where he is right now. “This is only bringing trouble,” you tell Max, “let’s go away.” Max still doesn’t budge. 

It takes a few more seconds before Lando is standing in front of Max and you. He has an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. You try to ignore how good he is looking right now. This must be one of the first times to see him without a hoodie or RedBull clothes. He is wearing a white linnen blouse with kaki colored pants. It’s insane how well it fits him. You shake the thoughts about his look off. You need to focus, since you still don’t know what Lando is going to do. 

“Hey princess,” Lando greets you. 

It hits you directly. Lando is here to annoy your brother even more and he’s going to use you for that. What a dick. You’re glad you already told Max about your earlier encounter with Lando, otherwise he would be mad already. Not that Max looks calm right now…

“I don’t think we were finished talking,” Lando tells you. 

Max scoffs but stays silent. 

“I think we are. Or are you going to apologize for your behavior?” You reply to Lando. 

“Of course not,” Lando laughs, “I don’t do apologies.” 

You notice the frustrated look on Max his face. It’s getting worse with the minute. Or better said, with every word Lando says. 

“Then I don’t know what we need to talk about,” you reply coldly. 

“You said my dick is small,” Lando states, “and I really can’t forgive you that.”

You let out a sigh. What a nonsense. Max lets out a chuckle, “You said that?” He asks you. You simply nod. Max laughs a bit harder this time. You’re glad he seems a bit more relaxed.

“That seems like your problem Lando,” you eventually say to Lando. 

“I don’t want you spreading lies,” Lando states as serious as he can manage. He knows he’s saying complete bullshit right now, but who can blame him? He wanted to talk to you and didn’t know any better subject. 

“As if I’m going to talk about you,” you sneer.

“We both know you’re gonna do that,” Lando replies casually. 

“In your dreams,” you state annoyed.

“Wouldn’t you like that princess, me dreaming about you?” 

Lando is pushing his limits. You notice how Max is getting more annoyed. Of course, you’re getting more annoyed also. Lando is annoying you for a big time. You wonder what to do. 

“Maybe you dream about that,” you reply coldly, then you turn to Max. “Let’s go Max,” you tell him again. Max is finally ready to walk away with you from Lando. You already turn your back to Lando to walk away from him. If you were a few seconds earlier, you wouldn’t have heard his last comment. Then Max would have been already too far away from Lando. But you are not that lucky.

“I dream about you finding out how big it actually is.”

That is all it takes to make Max angry enough to do something with it. He turns back towards Lando and almost storms at him. You see how he is already balling his fists. Your brother lunches himself at Lando. He throws a punch at him. You see how he hits Lando right on his nose. Fuck, that’s going to look ugly. Lando is quick to reply to your brothers actions. He pushes Max of himself and starts to ball his fists as well. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol that causes you to react this slowly. You should do something. 

In the mean time Max and Lando are already all over each other. You see how multiple punches are being thrown at each other. Lando’s nose is actually bleeding. 

You try to grab Max his arm. Max is quick to loosen himself from your grip. “Max!” You scream, “Stop!” Max doesn’t even respond to you. You look at Lando. Fuck this is so bad. Lando his face is covered in his own blood. If anyone finds out about this, there will be so much trouble. Max throws his arm back, waiting for an opportunity to punch Lando again. He doesn’t even notice that he softly hits you while doing so. You don’t know how it happened, but Lando is suddenly laying on the floor.

“You’re hurting her!” Lando yells at your brother, “You need to watch out idiot.” 

Max is quick to turn himself away from Lando to look at you. He sends you an apologetic look. You show him a small smile, while telling him that you’re fine. Lando uses this opportunity to stand up again. After that he pushes your brother again. 

You’re still screaming at the both of them to stop. This is taking too long. Where’s the security of this club? You look around yourself and almost smile when you notice the security team coming closer towards your brother and Lando. They are quick to get Max and Lando away from each other. You notice the weird way Lando reacts to them. It almost seems like he’s getting more angrier at them right now. He’s still pushing everyone around. Max is doing the opposite. He seems to have calmed down and is explaining himself towards the security. It doesn’t take Max long to return to you. In the mean time you watch how Lando is being taken away by the security team. It’s hard to miss that he’s still screaming at them and trying to break himself free. 

Max takes you outside with him. He needs some fresh air and you can use some too after everything that just happened. You’re still confused by it. It happened fast and you can barely comprehend what just happened. When you look at your brother, your glad that he seems physically okay. You know that Lando is a different case, but that’s not your problem. Right? 

“What are they going to do with him?” You ask Max.

“I don’t really know,” Max answers, “Normally they would throw him out the club, but I guess he’s in a bit more trouble because he tried to fight them. But that’s not our problem.”

You let out a sigh. “I think it is Max,” you tell him, “if Christian finds out you two will be in so much trouble. And if the media finds out, it’s even worse.” 

“Fuck,” Max curses, “What do we do now?”

You let out another annoyed sigh. It’s always a ‘we’ problem with Max. You didn’t fight but it seems like this is your problem as well now. 

“We need to get him away from there,” you state, “before they call the police or he makes it worse.”

“How?” Max asks you. 

You shrug. As if you have an idea right now. This is a big drama and you have no idea how to fix things. You keep thinking for a bit. There must be a way to get Lando away from there, right? 

“Fuck, your dress has a red stain,” Max tells you. You look at your white dress. The most innocent color that has been ruined by a blood stain. Probably one from Lando even. Ugh. The innocent white color makes you think of something. You don’t like the idea, but you have no other option. This is going to be another disaster. 

“I’m going to talk to security,” you tell Max, “Stay here.” 

Max simply nods. You realize he’s probably glad that you’re going to talk with security instead of him. Now that you think about it, it’s time for Max to fix things like this himself. 

+++

“I’m so sorry about all this drama,” you say while looking as sad and innocent as you can manage. You’re standing in a small office that’s filled with three members of the security team and with Lando. It didn’t took you long to get in here, the problem is probably to get out together with Lando. You notice the angry looks Lando is sending you right now. Doesn’t he notice that you’re doing this for him? You can only think of one person who would be this ungrateful and he’s doing exactly what you would think he would. Fucking Lando. 

“This was your fault?” One of the security guards asks you confused, “You weren’t the one fighting and certainly not the one who tried to fight us.” 

“I know,” you say, “but I’m so sorry about everything that happened. This is all because of me.” You make sure to blink a few times more than usual. You wipe away a fake tear under your eye, while still making eye contact with the guard in front of you. 

“Explain it to us?” The guard asks you. 

You nod slowly. This is where the most awful part of your plan comes in. You don’t want to say this, but you don’t see another solution. Lando is still giving you angry looks. This time you hold eye contact with him. You don’t dare to look at the guards while lying like this, you’re too afraid they will catch your lie by your nervous looks.

“Lando is my boyfriend,” you explain. Lando his angry look is quick to change into a confused one. You try to make him clear that he needs to play along, but that’s hard to do without words. Still, he stops looking this confused. “And the guy he was fighting with, that’s my brother,” you continue to explain. 

“They don’t like each other,” you continue, “and that’s why we kept our relationship a secret. It pained me so much, but we thought it was better. Tonight my brother accidentally found out…” You fake sob for a bit before talking further. “He was so mad. There were some nasty words between the three of us. My brother called Lando a player and then Lando told my brother he loved me.” You try to think of all kind of sad situations. It doesn’t take you long to get some tears rolling over your cheeks. You wipe a few of them away before continuing with your fake story. 

Lando can’t believe what’s happening in the mean time. He wants to say that it annoys him that you’re standing him to free him right now, but he can’t. He loves every second of it. The story you made up and the fake tears you’re using to manipulate the security team. Lando actually loves it. He didn’t expect you to have a side like this. Although, when he remembers how much danger you’re bring to yourself right now he can’t say he likes it. It’s obvious to him how you got in here and why you’re still talking with the guards. They don’t care about your sob story. They care about the pretty girl in the short dress who’s standing in front of them. 

“My brother got even more angry when Lando said that.. That’s were everything went wrong. I’m so sorry,” you finish your story. 

“You’re really in a relationship with him?”

Lando doesn’t like the tone of the security guard who asks you that. Would it be that unbelievable for you to be in a relationship with him? It’s not like he’s too ugly for you. Of course, maybe isn’t he your exact level but with a girl as beautiful as you that seems impossible.

“Yes,” you reply confident, “Almost a year now.”

“I pity you,” the security guard replies, “I can’t imagine how an innocent girl like you would get with someone like him.”

“Oh fuck off,” Lando scoffs, “You don’t even know me.”

“Shut it, we’re talking with her and not with you.”

Lando wants to reply again. He wants to tell them that he knows exactly how dirty their thoughts are right now. But when he sees your annoyed stare at him, he drops it. You’re trying to get him away from here and him starting another fight with that security team isn’t going to help. 

“I’m so sorry about everything,” you fake sob again, “I just wanted a nice night out and now everything is so shitty.” 

“We already called the cops,” the guard states. 

Fuck. There goes your plan. You let out a sigh. What can you do now? You keep thinking about all kind of sad things to make sure there are still tears rolling over your cheeks. 

“I get it,” you fake sob, “Do you think I can pick him up there later?” 

“I think that will be tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” you murmur, “My.. my brother just told me I can’t stay with him anymore..” You make sure to stutter a bit with your words and throw in enough fake sobs. “I don’t have anywhere to sleep.”

The guards look at you with a pitiful look. Then the leader of them walks closer to you. He puts his hand on your shoulder and caresses it. You shiver from the awful feeling. You look at Lando, who’s looking angrily back at you. He knew this would happen. You move yourself around, losing the hand of the guard in the mean time. 

“You know what,” the guard starts, “if you believe me to take him far away from this club I’ll let it slide for this time.” 

“Yes!” Your happiness isn’t even fake anymore. You’re just glad your plan worked. “I promise, we will leave directly.” 

Lando is quick to stand up now that he’s allowed. He slowly walks towards you. Suddenly you start to feel a bit nervous. He didn’t look to happy with you for intervening like this. How will he react? You just hope he can save it from when you’re away from this club. Then Lando stands next to you and makes a sudden move you didn’t expect. He presses a kiss against your forehead and slides his hand into yours.

“Thanks princess,” he says. Then he starts to walk outside with you while still holding your hand. When the both of you are outside of the club, Lando is quick to drop your hand again. 

“Don’t do that ever again,” Lando tells you mad.

“You’re welcome Lando,” you reply with an annoyed tone.

“You don’t even know what you just did! Do you know how lucky you should be that we’re standing here? What if those guards wanted to do something else with you?” Lando rants. 

“Something else?” You ask him confused.

“Oh come on Y/N, you’re not stupid. You used your innocence to get me out of there, but those guards had only interest in your body,” Lando sneers angry. 

“It went fine like this,” you state. Although you know Lando has a small point. 

“Don’t do it ever again,” Lando commands you again, “and please don’t go back inside.”

“This wasn’t for you,” you reply frustrated, “I did this for the team.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Lando reacts.

“What did you want then? That Christian would be called to bail you out?”

“So fucking stupid.”

“A thank you would be nice you know,” you bite back.

“I don’t do thank you’s,” Lando states.

“Of course Lando, how could I forget that you don’t have any manners,” you sigh, “Whatever. I will see you later.”

With those words you walk away from Lando. You’re quick to find Max again, who already called a taxi. You’re glad to go home. This night only made your night worse.

+++

unknown number: thank u.

Y/N: who’s this?

unknown number: don’t save this number. 

unknown number: I just wanted to say thanks.

Y/N: Lando?

Lando: yes.

Y/N: I still just did it for the team

Lando: I know, but you saved me a lot of trouble. Thanks again

Y/N: you already thanked me three times

Y/N: that seems a bit much for someone who doesn’t does thank you’s

Lando: goodnight

Y/N: how did you get my number btw?

Lando: goodnight princess

Y/N: Lando??? 

taglist ; @whore8io

part three

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines

[slayfics]

Hii babes can I get a Katsuki comforts a self-conscious reader if you can do plus size that’s amazing if not it’s okay thehe

Katsuki explodes your insecurities.

800 words

You let out a heavy sigh as you got ready, brushing your hair in the mirror. Every so often you’d have one of those days where your hair looked hideous no matter what you did with it.

That was just something everyone dealt with from time to time, and usually you could brush it off and keep moving. However, today wasn’t proving to be so kind.

The longer you messed with your hair in the mirror, the more you felt dissatisfied with your appearance. Today all your flaws seemed to be screaming out at you.

You took a deep breath and did your best to swallow your insecurities. You couldn’t just shy away from today’s responsibilities and hide away because you felt unattractive. Yet, a sting hit your eyes as you continued your morning routine.

“The hell is that look for?” Katsuki asked, leaning on the doorframe of the restroom.

You jumped by his sudden appearance, “Nothing- just getting ready,” you lied.

Katsuki clicked his tongue at you, “Why do you even bother lying to me. Tell me what’s on your mind,” he demanded.

You sighed, setting down your brush. How could you even begin to explain that you felt hideous to your extremely attractive chiseled by the gods boyfriend? Surely, that’s not a feeling he could relate to.

“Just not feeling well today,” you said, only a half lie this time.

“Mmm, your nose isn't running- and you look fine so, what do you mean?” He questioned further.

“But I don’t look fine!” You snapped, regretting it the instant you said it.

“Hah?! Course you do! The fuck you talking about??” He raised his voice in response.

“Nothing. Just forget it,” you said and tried to brush through him to exit the bathroom.

“No,” he said stubbornly blocking your way. “You’re going to tell me what’s going through your head.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Why did Katsuki have to be so damn observant all that time.

“Sigh all you want. I'm not moving till you talk,” he said.

“Fine- I just… don’t feel attractive today. That’s all,” you finally admitted.

“The fuck? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” he barked at you.

“Maybe to you! You’re always hot as hell, you’ve probably never had one self-conscious day of your life!” You spat back.

“That’s not fair,” he said in a voice much lower. “Course I have. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean you. You’re hot as hell to ya know?”

“Thank you for saying so but- sometimes I don’t feel like it,” you said honestly.

“Why?!” He grunted. “Have you been looking at those damn influencers again or something?! You know that shit is all fake,” he said.

“I know I know, but it’s not ugh-,” you sighed in frustration feeling your emotions heighten, “it’s not just that- it’s like everywhere and everything reminds me that I could look better and be better. From ads on my phone for beauty products, to friends talking about their diets. It’s exhausting feeling like I’m not keeping up,” you spoke and felt a bubble rise in your throat, “or that I’m not enough,” you said softly. and the tears finally broke through.

“Come here,” he said, gently wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. The protection that his embrace offered caused the pent-up emotions to rush out, you sobbed freely into his chest.

“Quite down, there’s no need to cry,” he spoke, his best attempt at soothing you. His arms still tightly around you, he kissed the top of your head.

“Ya know- a lot of places make a good amount of money for making people feel this way. Make ya feel like ya gotta buy this or do that to be hot but- it’s all bullshit,” he spoke, as your sobs lessened. “You’re perfect the way you are, and if you aren’t gonna believe me then, I don’t know who you’d believe. Because you know I’m not a damn liar and, I especially don’t sugar coat things to no one. So… believe me.” He spoke.

You pushed off his chest to wipe the remainder of your tears, as he continued.

“Just gotta tell all those thoughts to fuck right off. It takes a lot of courage to ignore all that crap and be confident. But you’re the bravest person I know so- I know you can do it. You’re a goddamn sexy person inside and out. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially yourself. Got it?”

You nodded sheepishly and looked up, your eyes catching the damp spot on his shirt from your tears. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Katsuki clicked his tongue once more, “that’s another thing- stop apologizing so much. You’re allowed to feel and take up space and… that’s what I’m here for so- come to me anytime you need. Don’t make me drag it out of you next time… promise?”

“Promise.”

Thanks for the request Mint! I think we all need blasty to grab us and tell us we’re beautiful just the way we are 🥹🥰! Hope you enjoy 🫶~

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

#katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki fanfic #katsuki fluff #bnha katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo x gender neutral reader #mha bakugo x reader #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x you #mha x y/n #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x self insert #bnha x gender neutral reader

[euseokz]

@ eunseok — you should still only have eyes for me, not anyone else . . cws : cheating . toxic relationship (jealousy mentions) . semi-public sex . degradation . use of nicknames (whore, slut) . oral (f) . unprotected sex . cheerleader! reader . college! au . wc : 1.8k+ . genre : smut

a/n : i blame my 🐾 anon and ads ( @bbina ) for this . . . a bit different than my usual style i think but i do still really like this tbh !!

BASKETBALL PLAYER! EUNSEOK who, even if you broke up because he wanted to, still feels some sort of twisted sense of possessiveness over you.

it had been a few weeks already, and after your big fight that led to you separating you hadn’t shared anymore than annoyed glances with each other. you obviously couldn’t completely avoid him — you went to college in the same place, shared some classes, and worst of all you were a cheerleader while he was a basketball player, so at least during practice and games you were forced to be in the same space. at first the tension between you two was palpable, but now it had eased down a bit. people knew not to mention the other to either of you, and although no one truly knew why you broke up — the whole problem having been, ironically, eunseok’s jealousy issues — they knew it was bad.

you had moved on though, and you were glad that eunseok didn’t pester you anymore, that you didn’t think of him anymore… you were finally happy — until he decided to come back.

you had been going out with sungchan for a while, you met him shortly after breaking up with eunseok and you two just connected easily and fast, your relationship recent but probably already more sincere than the one you shared with eunseok for all those years. sungchan was nice, caring, loving, and best of all, didn’t flip if you ever even looked at another guy. he was everything eunseok tried but couldn’t be, and that was enough for you, what you needed in that moment if you did jump into a new relationship.

with all of that in mind, and with that thought process circling your brain in a loop, you wondered why you were in that exact second still listening to eunseok’s angry rambling.

“it was fucking distracting, no one was paying attention and our strategy went down the drain”

“so i can’t support my boyfriend now?”

“you’re dating him!? the new guy of all people? i thought you’d be better than that”

“and i thought even your jealousy had an end, but apparently not” you argued back, tired of eunseok’s rambling “i wasn’t distracting everyone, i was distracting you, and you played a shit game because you can’t bear the thought of me being with someone else even now!”

he finally seemed to shut up after that, his expression surprised, taking him a few seconds to mutter out a low “you don’t know what you’re talking about”, that somehow only proving your point even more.

you groaned eunseok’s name, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, annoyed you had even allowed yourself to be in that situation — arguing with your ex-boyfriend in an empty locker room, everybody else outside, ready to leave for the night. “let’s just leave it at this, i’m tired of your bullshit” and with that you started turning around, ready to also leave, before he spoke up again.

“does he fuck you better than i do? is that it?” eunseok asked, his cocky smile suddenly curling his lips upwards as you started to turn around, looking at him with a frown, eyebrows furrowed together, and lips ever so slightly parted in pure shock at his rapid turn of emotions.

“that’d be impossible, only i know your body well enough, only i can fuck as many orgasms out of you as i want”

“shut up eunseok, seriously. you’re crossing the li-”

“i bet he can’t even make you cum, that’s why you’re all pissed off with me”

you sighed, finally turning around to leave definitely before eunseok grabbed your wrist.

“i can make you remember what you’re missing, maybe that will make you finally open your eyes” he continued, a sly smirk still resting on his expression, his eyes glistening with lust as he looked you up and down.

“you’re insane”

“maybe, but you still haven’t left so how different from me can you truly be”

“i’m with sungchan now, move on” you said through your teeth, almost as a threat, finally pushing your wrist out of eunseok’s grip.

“being with someone else has never stopped anyone from finally having a good fuck”

“i’m not a cheater”

“no, you’re only looking somewhere else for what your goody-two-shoes boyfriend can’t give you”

you sighed once more, asking yourself for the nth time why you couldn’t just leave, why you were still there, why eunseok still had such an effect on you.

“just be honest with yourself, he can’t fuck you like i do, no one can”

“i never said that”

“but you also didn’t deny it”

eunseok took a step closer, suddenly all too close to you, his breath fanning against your face. “let me remind you of how good we can be together, angel” he whispered, only for you, eyes locking with yours as you bit your lip in indecision, the old nickname he used on you all throughout your relationship only affecting you even more.

you were sure you had moved on, so why was eunseok’s proposal so tempting? why did you feel so inclined to accept it? why did you kiss him back when his lips pressed against yours? why couldn’t you just leave? all questions you couldn’t answer, allowing him to push you into the nearest shower stall and lock the door behind you two, the space tight but enclosed enough, eunseok’s kisses fervent throughout the whole process.

“are you gonna let me fuck you? uh? gonna act like my little whore again?” he asked breathlessly, eyes focused on yours as he fiddled with the button on your jeans, undoing it and pushing the heavy fabric down, dropping it to your feet.

“we have to be quick” you reminded, just as out of breath, trying to repress your guilt by not doing anything to help eunseok, letting him handle everything, take off your clothes the way he wanted and twist you around whichever way he pleased — as if that made you any less blameworthy.

eunseok kneeled down, face near your crotch, breath fanning over your exposed cunt and making you inhale a deep breath. “i’ve missed her, you know? no one’s like her” he commented, talking about your pussy, completely taking off one of the legs of your pants so he could move you more freely, propping your leg over his shoulder so he could get a better angle. eunseok peeked his tongue out, lapping up your cunt in a quick swipe, feeling how you tasted and humming pleased against your folds, closing his eyes momentarily before looking up at you. “still tastes just as good as i remember”. you moaned softly, forcing yourself to keep your whines in when eunseok started properly flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud attentively, leaving you soaking wet, your hole clenching around nothing.

you had forgotten how good he made you feel, this a mere sample of the things he had done to you while you were still together. as much a you’d like to not have to admit it, he was better than sungchan, and you blamed that knowledge as the sole factor that allowed you to let him keep going, to let him suck and lick at your cunt so messily, dragging an orgasm out of you more easily than anyone ever had, all because he did know what buttons to push to make you come undone for him. that was eunseok’s problem, he knew you too well, he knew that didn’t matter how much you resented him you’d never be able to tell him no — even if you had convinced yourself you could — and things were the same for him, he’d never deny you anything, even after you had been broken up.

“i wanna fuck you properly” eunseok announced, your slick mixed with his saliva glistening on his lips and chin as he came up, leaning in for another kiss, hands cupping your cheeks and keeping you in place as he sucked on your bottom lip, tongue flicking over it and pushing into your mouth, pressing against yours.

and of course, you let him do whatever he wanted, even if you knew it was wrong, allowing yourself to be turned around so you’d face the wall and have your entire front pressed against the cold tile, your arms being held behind your back by eunseok’s hand as he pulled his hard cock out of his pants, his pink tip dripping with pre-cum. he pressed himself against you, wasting no time in pushing his entire length into you, both of you moaning in unison as he started fucking you as roughly and mercilessly as usual, pistoning his hips against yours, stretching you out better than anyone ever could, better than sungchan could. eunseok knew what angles to hit to make you see stars, what sweet spots you had, what felt the best for you. he was harsh, fucking you in a seemingly selfish manner, as if all he seeked was his own pleasure, but in reality he wanted to give you yours most of all, being rough but in a loving way almost.

“wonder if your boyfriend knows what a little slut you can be, letting me fuck you in a stall as if he isn’t probably waiting for you somewhere else”

“‘seok…” you moaned, squirming in his grip but not able to move away, only closing your eyes and immersing yourself more in the pleasure, letting him clasp one hand over your mouth and push your head back, making it easier for him to whisper into your ear his next words.

“you’re still my whore, you’ll always be, don’t you dare forget that”

and as he said that, you came, clenching around eunseok’s cock as a mix of arousal and guilt flooded you. you were still, deep down, his, and if it took him fucking you again for you to realize that, you wondered just what else you had managed to hide from yourself.

“such a good slut, cumming all over my cock… that’s it angel, always so good for me” eunseok said, his words tainted with both filth and praise, before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, his thrusts slowing down until he was completely pulling out, stroking his cock a few times before spilling his seed all over your ass — that apparently still being his favorite place to cum on — while groaning against your neck, resting his forehead against you for a second, both of you catching your breaths.

once you had finally collected yourselves, eunseok helped you get cleaned up and dressed, acting like he did back then, destroying you just so he could help put you back together again. just as you were about to leave, both of you still very clearly flustered but at least looking somewhat collected now, someone walked in, one look up making you stare at sungchan, his appearance frantic as his eyes drifted between both of you before finally stopping on your frame, going to you and holding your hands gently.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere, did you two fight again?” he asked, voice sweet and worried.

“yeah, something like that” eunseok replied, giving your boyfriend a tap on the shoulder before leaving as if nothing had happened.

#! . . 📝 #riize smut #riize eunseok smut #eunseok riize smut #eunseok smut #song eunseok smut #eunseok imagines #eunseok scenarios #eunseok drabbles #eunseok fic #eunseok fanfic #eunseok hard hours #eunseok hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize hard thoughts #eunseok x reader #song eunseok x reader #riize eunseok x reader #eunseok #song eunseok #riize eunseok #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize drabbles #riize fanfic #riize fics #riize x reader #riize x you #riize x y/n #riize x imagine

[charmedreincarnation]

⭐️ my void sucess story ⭐️

Hi Maya! I entered the void last night using this (https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/717982229971730432/fulfillment-x-i-am-technique) and this (https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/718301527748608000/shifting-recourses-wposts ) post, so tysm!

I won’t get to into it, but I am living my best life despite all the doubts I had about the void. I always knew it was real but I was scared I would not be able to do it. If you’re someone who struggles with the logic behind this phenomenon I suggest reading that post, and also reading @gorgeouslypink blog. I think both Maya and pink understand and acknowledge that this stuff “isn’t natural” (in a human and logical sense) but also encourage us to both appeal to our logical mind and spiritual one as well. But I kind of do want to breakdown what I did, bc it was always annoying how some anon stories didn’t explain what they did lol.

⭐️I suggest reading one peice of Neville Goddard’s work. You don’t have to of course. You don’t even have to apply loa, but trust me it’s the shortcut to this type of stuff. I really liked at your command, and the power of imagination if you want recommendations.

⭐️read this (https://www.tumblr.com/gorgeouslypink/710749646282227712/doubts )post about doubt by pink. Don’t just read it, understand and internalize it. If you don’t and keep re-reading it until you do.

⭐️use some subliminals if you want.i know people say don’t put methods above you, but ehhh :// I just like to listen to music and it won’t hurt as long as you know you choose if they work or not with your assumption. I really like slade, solar subs kira’s domain (yes the scammer but her subs still work pretty well) and v1per, but use whoever you trust

⭐️find logical reasoning to help you come to terms with the fact it’s real. Pink talks about some on her page, and so does Maya. I used the technique I shared in the first paragraph which reminds me of a lazy sats, and combined that with my subliminal usage and after a week it worked

⭐️shifting methods are your best friend. There are so many great methods so find one that resonates with you. Also the shifting community is very open minded and not limited in any way, which is nice. They’re also starting to talk about logic and the law which is awesome. Again this (https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/718301527748608000/shifting-recourses-wposts) post has both resources for the logical and spiritual mind, stuff about the law, methods, and stories.

⭐️stick to 1-2 bloggers who help you feel the most motivated. Most bloggers say the something anyways so it won’t help you that if you read 100 bloggers instead of one. I obviously preferred pink and Maya but choose whoever you want!

Anyways, most importantly I manifested a complete change in my life. Nothing is the same so don’t limit yourself. From the way I look, to where I live, my career, age, love life, wealth, social life, family, friends, nothing is the same. Also I was 30 but I revised my age to 25. I’m just adding this so you know it’s not only kids dabbling in this special amazing ability! I also had very hard circumstances, ranging from poverty, assault, and depression. Most people in the world struggle, no one is struggling alone. Don’t let that victim mentality stop you from living your best life.

I know I say the same thing every time, but I’m genuinely happy and proud of you! Thank you for sharing all your amazing tips and recourses, and I hope you continue to always live your best life and it only gets better!

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #void success

[zwedexx]

Hello how are you? Could you write something where the reader is a famous actress and Alexia or Frido loves the films she makes, and then one day (Alexia or Frido) gets all excited because she's going to meet the reader? :)

“Hey, film this. I swear, she’s been talking about it all day.”

Fridolina Rolfö x actress!reader

Summary: request

TW: none

WC: 1026

A/N: I finished writing this at 12:58 am so my mind is really not sharp so I apologize if its an actually piece of flaming shit. I also used this as an opportunity to kinda try out social media fics.

General POV

“Hey, film this. I swear, she’s been talking about all it day.” Lucy whispers to the social media admin.

“Frido, what’s the name of the film again.” Lucy shouts.

“Facts of Life.” She shouts back.

“Why Lucia, not this again.” Aitana whines from nearby.

“It is an excellent film, the cinematography, the plot, the acting. The lead actress is amazing, she had me captivated throughout the entire thing. I don’t understand why you are complaining.” Rölfo retorts.

“It’s not the movie we are complaining about, it’s you talking about it and the actress all day.” Aitana replies with an annoyed sound 

“If you watched the film you’d understand.”

Instagram post

Liked by y/n l/n, and 25,674 others

fcbfemini frido has something to say

View all 109 comments

_fcb_fan982 did anyone else see that y/n liked the post

footballmyliife she commented too

y/n l/n could I entice you to come to my next premier in Lisbon. 🫣

loverolfo09 this might be might be my new Roman Empire.

barca1109 Creo que Frido está enamorada

dudethealpha shut up, no one cares

fcbperlavida Ella me ha convencido para ir a verlo.

General POV Lucy was buzzing with excitement as she scrolled through the comments of Barca’s recent post. It had garnered a relatively good amount of attention including yours. Lucy couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw that you had not only liked the post but also left a comment.

“Frido, you won’t believe it. Come see this.” Lucy exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief

Frido, who was mid set, begrudgingly walks over to Lucy. Lucy could see her eyes read your comment then immediately light up, mirroring Lucy’s excitement. 

“Oh wow. Is she being serious?” Rolfö half questions.

Aitana, hearing Lucy’s shouts from afar, chimed in.

“Lucy, de lo que estabas tan emocionada.”

“Frido, tell her.”

“Y/n l/n liked the video of me and commented an invite to her next premiere in Lisbon”

Aitana gave Lucy a quick side eyes before letting out an impressed whistle. 

“You gonna go.”

Frido froze for a second. She absolutely wanted to go but it sort of hit her, someone she admired wanted to meet her.

-

As the Swede prepared for her trip to Lisbon, her anticipation and excitement continued to grow. Being invited to attend your premiere was amazing on its own but the prospect of meeting you added a layer of thrill. She knew she admired you but she could feel that there was something more to it. 

Instagram Post

Liked by y/n l/n, and 1,347 others

Flight went well, get my hair done for the premiere.

@lisbonconceito

View all 42 comments

y/n_l/n Can’t wait to meet you 

loverolfo09 please take pictures

barca34 a crossover we never knew we needed

fcbfem444 thank you for this content🧎🏻‍♀️we have been fed

-

Frido couldn’t believe her luck as she stood on the red carpet at the premiere of your film. The flashing of the camera and the glamorous atmosphere were things she had gotten accustomed to due to the award ceremonies but her heart still raced. 

As she glided down the red carpet, her eyes caught a glimpse of you. She was completely enamoured, you radiated elegance and beauty. You noticed her staring after a couple of minutes and flashed her a warm smile, making her heart skip a beat.

Her heart skipped another beat when she saw you leave the throng of camera people and come towards her. 

“Hey, I’m so glad you could come and that I could meet you.” you greeted her, extending your hand.

Frido, trying to keep her composure, took your hand. “Thank you so much for inviting me, I am a big fan of your work and you.”

You blush ever so slightly, your gaze holding hers. “I do aim to please and I’m glad you were the one I pleased.”

The fullback could see a hint of redness spark your cheeks and decided to test her luck.

Frido leaned in, a playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “I just really want to tell you this to your face but you are such a good actress, your films leave me wanting more. And meeting you is a pleasure that I didn’t know I needed.”

You chucked, the air between you filled with welcomed tension.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying the show, both on and off-screen.”

-

As the night progressed, you and Rolfo continued to share laughs and engage in conversation. After 30 short minutes you had her heart. She was completely enamoured with you and she could sense that you felt the same. There was this youthful feeling to this love, sort of a school crush.

The atmosphere was electric and the connection between the two of you was palpable. Amid the middle chaotic glitz and glamour, there was a moment when Frido’s hand accidentally brushed against yours while while reaching for a canapé. 

Frido's eyes met yours in a brief, yet charged, moment. A subtle blush painted her cheeks as she quickly withdrew her hand, but the touch lingered in the air. Unspoken words passed between you, a silent acknowledgment of the growing attraction. 

You decided to take the initiative, letting your fingers intentionally graze against hers when you handed her a drink. Frido looked at you, a mixture of surprise and delight in her eyes. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. Later, during a particularly engaging conversation, you found yourselves standing in a more secluded area away from the bustling crowd. The soft glow of the venue's lights added a touch of intimacy to the moment. 

Frido, feeling a surge of courage, gently placed her hand on the small of your back, a subtle yet affectionate gesture. You turned to her, and your eyes met, a silent understanding passing between you. The touch lingered, conveying a connection that went beyond the superficial world of premieres and films. In that brief moment, amidst the glamour and excitement, Frido leaned in once more, gently touching the underside of your chin and bringing it up for your lips to touch.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #women's football #woso soccer #woso couples #barca femeni #barcelona femeni

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader- smut

Part 7 of this series! Again, I’ll have to wait until this weekend for the Hungarian GP to continue writing which is annoying because I’m on a roll, but this is just a quick in between to feed all you thirsty people 😈

@allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @dinodumbass @ricciardhoe-3

Daniel finds himself missing y/n a little more than he figured. His desperation boils over the night before he’s supposed to see her again, and facetime sex ensues… angst follows when Daniel is starting to understand he may be too invested than what he initially realised…

no this gif is genuinely the sexiest thing I have ever seen oh my fucking god

Daniel was insanely happy to be returning to the F1 grid again. To be driving on the track again, and most exciting, in Las Vegas, filled him with utter joy. After the year he had before this was a breath of fresh air.

Daniel remained occupied through the days, training, eating, exercising, meetings, more training. He was always busied up. However when the clock would strike 9 and he was in bed early his mind would often linger to the girl back in England. They’d texted more often, but the craving wasn’t enough for Daniel, he wanted to see her, hug her, kiss her- his feelings had intensified and he’d finally admitted it to himself how he was falling for her. Maybe it was stupid, but Daniel ignored the consequences, too caught up in the bliss of utter happiness he felt whenever he had her close.

The night before he’d be seeing her again, he felt like he was about to burst from excitement. Like a little kid knowing they would be going on holiday the next day, Daniel couldn’t sleep a wink, thinking about her. His hands clicked on his camera roll, scrolling through the few pictures he’d taken of and with her. The playful one of them in bed he’d taken just to tease her, the other on the balcony of Monaco, when the view was beautiful but Daniel was actually just looking at her- and finally the one when he was inside her.

Fuck, he stared a little more intensely at the picture of him, his cock pressed inside her tight, little cunt as she pressed her perky tits together whilst one hand reached down to hold his. Her smaller fingers curled around his on her leg, only then did he truly see the intimacy in it. The way she’d often reach out for Daniel’s hands during sex, or when he’d have his mouth and lips pushed up against her pussy. Daniel knew he was getting turned on by it, and cheekily sent her the picture. It was 10 past midnight where Daniel was, meaning she was an hour behind in England. He hoped she was awake. Her day had seemed hectic, back in the office for a job Daniel never even knew she had. Momentarily, he felt guilt for texting her, possibly waking her up, but smiled when he saw her response.

Nice, Daniel What're you doing looking through those pics at this time?

Nothing much Daniel cheeked back, smiling like an idiot to his phone as he clicked on the imagine once more. Fuck, her body looked good, if only he had a picture of her face it would be 10x better. He had the genius idea of FaceTiming her, he didn’t think a phone call would cut it, he wanted to see her face, even without any sexual intentions. He missed her face.

Suree I believe that

Can I call you? sure With that Daniel was clicking the FaceTime option, as she let it ring for a moment before answering, not wanting to seem too eager. “You said call, not FaceTime.” She propped herself up in bed slightly, pulling the covers to hide her exposed chest. Not that she minded Daniel seeing. “Sorry.” He laughed gently, her eyes softening at the sound of his voice.

“Same thing.” Daniel added. “Yeah, apart from now you have to see how much of a mess I look.”

“You don’t.” Daniel frowned. “What’re you wearing?” He asked, out of genuine curiosity. “Oh! That’s why you wanted to face time me!” She’d teased, pulling her blanket up a little higher.

“No!” Daniels eyes widened. “Well I was thinking about you- I won’t lie, but I did wanna.. just FaceTime you.”

“Hmm.” She smiled, rolling onto her side and holding the phone in front of her. A warmth spread through her chest at his admission. “You were thinking about that picture as well?” She pointed out as his lips twitched up uncontrollably.

“No…” ”You’re a naughty boy, Daniel Ricciardo.” She flirted as the worst went straight to his cock. He let out a shameful giggle, resting his arm over my forehead. “I can’t help it, it’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.” He pointed out as she bit down on her lip.

“What’re you wearing then? Show me first.” She sat up straighter, propping the phone on a pillow ahead of her. An excitement bubbled in her stomach when he angled the phone down, revealing nothing but a black pair of underwear that he toyed with, with his free hand. His abs were delicious and she could see the slight bulge forming in his shorts. Sadly, it was harder to tell on camera than in person and she let out a sigh as she swooned.

“You look good.” She gently spoke as Daniel hummed, quick to point the screen back up to him so he could see her now. “Are you hard?” She giggled, Daniel glancing down.

“Almost- your turn, what’re you wearing?” He quickly bounced over the answer as she let out a soft laugh, angling the phone up. “Just my bed sheets.”

“Fuck, nothing else?” Daniel’s member twitched at the thought and anticipation of what was to come. “I have thongs on.” ”That means something different in Australia…” “Oh, sorry, underwear.” She teased.

“Show me.” Daniel was a little too eager as she bit down on her lip. “Where’s the fun in that, I gotta tease you first, no?” Daniels hand trailed down to his cock, giving it a squeeze as his large member continued growing from all the blood rushing there.

“Fuck, no teasing, y/n/n.” He insisted, slipping a hand under his boxers. “Are you touching yourself already?” She hummed out in an angelic tone as Daniel nodded. “Maybe.”

“Good.” Her voice lowered as she nudged the white sheet slowly down her tan skin, revealing her breasts first before showing the tiny little black, string thongs she wore. Daniel loved it when she wore black, she loved it when he wore black. Her hands pressed against her breasts, pushing them together slightly with a hum before a giggle passed her lips again. A

“I’ve got another hour before anybody’s home, Daniel.” She whispered. “Yeah?” He scanned over her face. “Yeah… but, I’ve never done this before.”

At her admission, Daniel’s hand retracted from his underwear. “We don’t have to do this.” He was quick to reassure. “No, I want to. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

“Yeah?” Daniel perked up at this. “How so?” He nudged her on, knowing he’d have to take the lead so she wouldn’t feel awkward. He found it oddly exhilarating she was doing this with him for the first time. She let out a nervous giggle again, biting down on her acrylic thumbnail.

“Been watching all the videos you’ve sent me. Touching myself to them.” Daniel let out a moan at her admission as his hand found his cock again, stroking under his shorts. “Fuck, you have?” As his movements began again she could see the slight tensing of his arm as he rubbed his shaft.

“Yeah.” The sight turned her on more than anything. “Tell me what you want me to do, Daniel.” She when whispered, half for guidance, half because it turned her on.

“Fuck, okay- play with your nipples, baby, get them nice and sensitive.” He watched her follow his instructions, letting out a quick sigh at the sight of her fingers nipping at the pierced buds. She let out a gentle moan with a wince. “Lick your fingers, baby.” He uttered as she dampened her feelings before rolling them over her nipples once again the wet feeling being a whole new experience.

“Daniel.” She sighed, angling the phone down so he could see the buck of her hips. He stroked himself harder, faster at this now. “That’s it, make yourself feel really good for me.”

She hummed in response, eyes still fixated on Daniel’s heavy lids as she squeezed the swell of her breast, glancing down to see the little thongs she was wearing.

“You feeling good?” He then questioned causing her to glance back up. “Yeah… I wanna- I wanna see what you’re doing, Daniel.” She barely whispered, a shy smile forming on her face as Daniel smiled, nudging the camera down to reveal his hand stuffed under his underwear, stroking slowly.

“Does it feel good?” She sighed, sliding out of her underwear and tossing them to one side, instantly feeling more comfortable at the sensation of being completely nude. “Would feel better if it was you.” He admitted, giving his balls a quick squeeze as he watched her angling the phone to rest on some pillows at the end of the bed. She’d bent over slightly, squeezing her tits together and Daniel wished he could just shove his face all up into them. “It will be soon.” She hushed, sitting back against the head of the bed as Daniel let out a throaty moan at the sight of her naked. His cock twitched and he pointed the phone back down to where he rubbed himself. “Take them off Daniel, I wanna see you.” Listening, Daniel slipped out of them, tossing them to one side as she let out a hum, sliding her fingers over her clit. Daniel thought he could finish there and then, just at the sight of her.

“Get yourself nice and wet for me.” Daniel muttered lightly as she whined. “I already am… fuck I’ve been like this everyday.” She’d admitted, the confidence erupting from how turned on she’d become at the fact he was touching himself over her.

“So have I.” Daniel let out a shaky exhale, one that made her shudder as her eyes fell closed, before she caught a glimpse of herself in the phone and lifted it again. “I look weird like that.” She giggled, biting down on her thumb.

“No, no it was fuckin’ sexy.” Daniel responded as she blushed furiously. “I’ve got toys… my fingers aren’t cutting it.” She then perked, Daniel leaking at the thought of her using one on herself. His hand moved faster, watching her come back into the frame with a vibrator, part of it that went inside of her.

“Fuck, show me, baby.” He pleaded at the sound of her moaning. Angling it down, she showed as she slowly pushed the bigger part inside her tight little pussy, hips jolting at the instant pleasure before the other, smaller part, pressed against her clit perfectly.

“Fuck, Daniel!” She squeaked, body seizing at the pleasure. His hand worked harder as he groaned through his teeth. “Wish I was with you, fuck, I wish I was there.” The Australian cooed. “Me too.” She gasped, the phone back up briefly.

“Keep it there.” Daniel instructed as she set it up a little better, squeezing her tits together for him as she let out an uncontrollable gasp, snatching at the pillows behind her. “Fuck, fuck.” She choked out as Daniel tugged on his shaft even faster. “I won’t last long.” She then admitted with a shy giggle, the intense pleasure being completely overwhelming. “Fuck.” Her head tossed back as Daniel automatically leaned his head to be able to see her- like he was there with her. “Shit, y/n look at the camera, look at me.” He spoke more firmly now as she did as she was told, crying out in ecstasy as she gripped onto her nipples. She was doing everything right, everything so good, Daniel knew he couldn’t last long like this.

“Show me- show me, Daniel, please.” She pleaded as he instantly switched the phone camera, showing the way his fucked himself into his hand. “Spit on your hand.” She choked out as he groaned, doing as she’d said and moving back to jerk himself off.

The wet sounds his cock now made was unimaginably sexy, every time he’d slide his hand over his sensitive tip, his thighs would tense and body would rattle from the sensitivity. It was beginning to push her over the edge, the sight of him and the feeling from the vibrator deep inside of her pussy.

“Fuck, I need you.” He cursed as she moaned out louder now, back beginning to arch. “I need your cunt so fuckin’ bad.” He borderline snarled as she sobbed out loud. “Please, please, Daniel, I’m gonna cum!” He felt himself moan at her words, dropping his head back as he felt an insatiable need eating him alive.

“Cum with me.” Daniel jerked his hips up, fucking them into his hand as he fastened his pace to an overwhelming speed, letting out soft grunts and moans, unable to hold anything back. Not when she looked that sexy, that good- not when he wanted to just bury his face deep inside that tight pussy of hers. Daniel watched her intensely, the way her hand came to hold onto the vibrator that was sending her over the edge, her skin looked so smooth and soft and tits looked so full- he wanted them in his mouth, most of all he wanted his cock between them.

“You ready?” He then cursed out, holding his breath as he felt his orgasm building up deep inside his abdomen. “Yeah!” She barely exclaimed, legs trembling as she was right on edge, waiting for his permission to cum. Daniels breathing became heavy, a groan escaping his mouth, as he began shooting his cum all over his hands, thighs and abs. The sight alone, never mind the sound, overwhelmed her senses and she came undone almost painfully hard with desperate pleas and whimpers of his name. It felt like the orgasm was never ending, she rode it through with Daniel's words of encouragement and soft little gasps before the vibrations became too much for her sensitive pussy. She pulled it out, it easily sliding from how wet she was, switxhinf it off and picking up the phone to hold above her tiredly. "Fuck, Daniel." She pouted, pussy still throbbing as she kept a light touch down there, milking her orgasm, as she looked over Daniel basked in a post orgasm glow. His hand had milked his cock now, pumping the last of his cum, feeling dizzy at how good she looked. It was quiet for a moment, both of them panting and exhaling harshly, coming down from the heated moment. She found it a little funny, somehow intimate, despite him being on a screen.

"You did good." He then hushed, head resting back into the pillow, watching her smile back to him, nuzzling the side of her face into the pillow slightly, giggling at the praise. "I wish I was there with you." He'd muttered as an even wider smile grew on her flushed cheeks. God, she was so painfully beautiful and sweet, Daniel liked that his words made her smile, it made him feel oddly complete. He’d never stop talking if it meant she looked at him like that always. "I wish you were here too, but… I'll see you tomorrow." she whispered, Daniel letting his cock grow soft in his hands, he wished he was growing soft inside of her instead. His eyes were following hers on the screen, admiring her worn out expression, blue eyes a little more hidden than usual from her tired eyelids. "I missed ya." He then admitted as she looked back to his sweet face on the screen. His cheeks were flushed pink and he had a shiny sheen of sweat over his face and chest. It was a sight to see. "I missed you." Shyly, she spoke the words, feeling that strange warmth in her chest. I like you, Daniel. Isn't it obvious? Part of her wanted to openly say that to him, I mean, surely he wouldn’t say he missed her if he didn’t like her?

“I gotta clean up, bear with me.” The two of them were away from the camera for a mere two minutes. She’d half expected him to disappear after that, end the call with a tired goodbye, but he came back, chatting about all kinds of nonsense with her.

“Hey, y/n?” Daniel muttered, causing her to jump up slightly, eyes fluttering open. “Mmmh?” She was too tired to speak. Daniel, however was tormented, kept awake with the constant urge to express his feelings to her. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say it, but fuck, he was falling for her- quickly. “Never mind.” He whispered, that slight something holding him back.

“Sorry for waking you..” she let out another hum in response, thinking nothing of his words before she relaxed back into the plush of her pillow again, sinking into a well deserved slumber.

When the call had ended, Daniel laid staring at the roof. That warm fuzzy feeling was undeniable, but there was a sense of anxiety and guilt that kept his chest tight, making it hard to breathe. How could he express his feelings and get them out in the open whilst remaining a ‘secret’? How would that work? Maybe they could ease their way into soft launching one another- but Daniel questioned how he’d ever be able to take her out on a date with the threat of her dad thinking their relationship was weird as hell.

What if she wanted to be open about this? Tell her dad? Or worst of all- if she wanted to keep Daniel a secret… he felt sick at the thought of continuing the secretive relationship, with it not actually going anywhere. Because it couldn’t- he’d got himself too far invested in her- with them- “Fuck.” He rubbed his face, overwhelmed by his racing mind.

Maybe he’d fucked up sleeping with her in the first place. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed her into that changing room, or been looking at her the way he had for the past 6 months of being close to her. He felt like whatever was going to happen would hurt, bad, but knowing he’d upset her absolutely killed him. But god, she was so beautiful and so perfect, he truly believed that if they were together they’d be amazing. If there was no boundaries, then he’d be taking her out every second of the day, showing her off- but fuck! There was boundaries, Daniel was officially torn.

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x Horner daughter

[skulla-rxcks]

ok hear me out.

Chan on his weekly live (ik it's no more channies room but anyways), as he comes to the end and gives STAY his famous "big hug", he hears Y/N enter his room, he's quick to end the live, but in all the hurry he pressed the wrong button, he didn't end the live, So now STAY can see him, but he doesn't know, mabye he can like- yk have s€x w Y/N while hes in camera? No need to but the idea just popped up in my head at school today so I just had to ask u (plz tag me if u do it tho)

WRONG BUTTON !

Paring: bang chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut, channies room :(

Warnings: v*ginal, praise, Twitter goes insane, Chan accidentally doesn’t end stream 👀

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

Please dm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

For @foivestarrsketchez 🧡 !

A/n: I miss channies room man :’) (fuck Jyp, all my homies hate Jyp 😔✊) one of my friends just recently became a stay so they probs don’t know what it is. *sobs* i forgot how most of it ended too.. so I’m sorry about that, hopefully it’s okay tho !

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Annnd.. that’s it! Thank you STAYS for tuning into another episode of Channies room and I’ll see you all next time!” Chan says, looking over to the door and seeing me wanting to enter.

He brings two of his fingers up to his eye, making his signature peace sign before pressing what he thought was the end button.

“Chris..” I mumble out, moving towards him. “I know baby, come here.” He coos, pulling me onto his lap. “What do you need?” Chan asks me, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs. “You..” I cry, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I need more of an explanation than that.” He chuckles, making me scoot back a bit so he can take his shirt off. “Dick.. I want your dick in me.” I beg.

“Good girl.” He smirks at me, unclipping my bra and watching it fall off my shoulders. “Fuck.. you’re so fucking hot..You gonna ride me?” Chan asks as he motions for me to get off his lap. I watch as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. “Wait. Condom.” I pause. “Don’t worry, i have one here.” He answers, I get back on his thigh and roll the rubber over his already erect dick.

“mmgh..” I whine as he stretches me out, my eyes squinting with pleasure.

“Oh god baby.. you’re so fucking tight and warm.” His hands make their way up to my waist as he begins to rock his hips up to meet mine. “Channie..” I moan, rubbing my hands up and down his chest. “Mmm.. fuck!” I move my head down so our lips meet. I capture his lips and begin kissing him. Our lips moving together in a rhythm. While we’re making love to each other there’s a knock on the door. Ignoring it, we continue doing what we were doing. I start riding him faster, moaning into his mouth as we both take each other.

“Fucking hell your cunts so addicting..” Chan groans into the kiss, his hands gripping my hips and bringing me up and down faster on his cock. “Y-you feel so good in me..” I whimper, one of my hands moving from his chest to rub my twitching pussy.

Another knock is done on the door, making me pissed off that someone’s trying to interrupt us, Chan notices the change of emotion in me and decides to call out to the person knocking on the door. “Yes? I’m busy right now.” He sighs hoping the person will leave.

“You realise you’re still live right?” It’s Han, he sounds worried and annoyed.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” Chan replies, his eyes widening as worry fills his brain. “Nope, it’s all over the internet, people are talking and recording clips of everything. I’ll just come in and end it properly for you.”

“Shit..”

Han opens the door, keeping his eyes on the floor, acting like he wasn’t aware of what we were doing. He presses the ‘end’ button, double checking that he actually pressed it before deleting the stream off the account.

Han leaves the room, taking Chans laptop and giving the two of us some privacy to finish; since we didn’t have any earlier.

“What if you get kicked out of the group because of me..?” I whine into his neck, feeling a tear flutter out of my eye. “I’ll figure something out, yeah?” Chan replies, thrusting upwards into me. “

If nothing can make you feel better, at least sex does..” he chuckles, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck.

. . .

A few hours past it’s a little bit later, I’m laying in bed with Chan, we decide to check what STAYS are saying on social media about everything that just happened earlier today. It’s more tame than I expected luckily. Not many clips are coming out which i’m happy about people realising we deserve privacy, however it of course is going to be a trending topic all over the place. The other comments people are saying are like ‘i wish I was her’ or ‘Chan’s even hotter than I thought’. Guess that’s what happens when you fuck a kpop idol, huh.

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut

[sstardustt3]

toby rogers relationship hcs! (both sfw and nsfvv)

tags II toby rogers x reader II creepypasta II nsfw II mentions of him being a manwhore II toby being a whinny little bitch II slight angst at the beginning II toby being a wet cat of a boyfriend II just general hcs of mine II

-Okay so im just gonna say this right now that he is NOT a good boyfriend not intentionally of course but none the less, a bad boyfriend. 

-He’s the type to be overly obsessive and jealous of you, not even like the people that surround you and other men but just you as a person 

-i don’t think he’s abusive but i do think he would be an asshole for two reasons

One, he is canonically an asshole and he is an obnoxious little shit 

and two it is cannon that he is annoying to the point where he makes people full on cry

So in my opinion i think if you were to ever get into an argument with this man he’s either mocking you until you break down

-i do think he’ll feel bad about it tho after a while and apologize (eventually)

- but adding on to being overly obsessive i think he’ll also be very clingy and extremely scared of loosing you

- I think being with him would kinda be an endless cycle of good times, hating the world, and then fighting, apologies and then repeat

But moving on from that  lets talk about some happier hcs!!

I think he’d like very calm very small easy dates liike going to the aquarium or literal hanging out on the roof of a house and just eating or talking just something very simple and easy to do.

He would definitely be the type to just stare at people and not even realize that he’s doing it and he does that alot and now he does it even more with you! He just stares at you like some type of strange special thing he found

I don’t feel like he’s the type to be vocal about his love and he mostly just uses physical affection (kinda like a cat, he’ll give you affection if he wants it)

Which brings me to another point, he looks like a  wet cat and acts like one whenever he even TOUCHES water. Like he can’t stand it and he hates the way it feels on his skin, you found this out when on your second date he let you pick out where to go and out of everywhere you chose a beach..? Like okay picture this..

“...what the fuck is this?”

“It’s a beach, toby.”

“I know that much im not stupid, why are we here.”

“Because your whiter than a ghost and you can use some sun and two, the beach is fun!”

“...now what in the peanut butter fuck made you think that the beach is fun.”

“Stop whining like a little bitch and get in the water.”

“Im not getting in the goddamn water- wait- no-”

SPLASH.

-you threw him into the shallow part of the water and he started coughing and squirming and trying to claw his way onto shore like his life depended on it. 

-which brings me to another point, his hygiene is ASS. Like if you weren’t there you he would have continued to use axe bodyspray and act like that is good enough and nobody notices that he showers once every blue moon. 

-He did used to shower more often when he was with clockwork but after that he just fell out of habit

-but once he got with you he started to slowly fall back into actually taking care if himself and eating full meals and not just living off of  several week old pizza and monster energy

-but when you first met him it was unbearable, so unbearable that you literal had to get in the shower with him and take one with im just to make sure he actually cleans himself properly.

-you actually ended up helping him was his back and he ended up sobbing like a baby, so safe to say you knew then and their what his love language was..

-acts of service!! He is a huge fan of acts of service because  boy hadn’t had people really take care of him like that before at first he ends up rejecting almost all of the things you do but eventually he comes around to it and ends up letting himself enjoy being taken care of

NSFVV WARNING FOR THIS PART

- I don’t think that he’s as sex addicted as most people say he is

-like don’t get me wrong he still has a fair amount of hook ups but i personally don’t think it’s as big of deal to him

- i think when he does do it it’s to let out frustration when he’s pissed about something or he just wants to feel something

-he probably mellowed out overtime so now that he’s with you he’ll still do it when he’s really pissed about something or he’ll just do it because you asked

-he had some experience but he wasn’t very good at it but his willingness to learn made up for that

-he’s very awkward at first he has not clue on what to do, he’s used to it being a one and done type of thing.

-he was only in school until maybe 5th-7th grade (my personal hc not cannon) so he was only given a basic understanding of how the human body works in that way

-but when he gets into it oh my god he is a such a manwhore.

-he is pretty rough most of the time, not intentionally but you can not tell me that working for slender hasn’t given him strong ass arms and a sleeper bulid (but more on that at a later date) 

-he is unbelievably whinny, just praise him and he is your bitch. 

- as i said earlier, he likes acts of service, his way of returning that is aftercare (even if it’s like the bare minimum, it’s the thought that count’s really)

It appears i have ran out of shit to say so that’s the end of this post

(reposts and requests are deeply appreciated and if you want to make a request then submit it through my ask me anything!)

#headcanon #creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #toby rogers x reader #toby rogers creepypasta #toby rogers headcanons #slenderman #slenderverse #x reader #fanfics #creepypasta headcanon

[theworldofotps]

Hand Necklace (Drabble Prompt)

Pairing: Damian Priest x FemReader Word Count: 738 Prompt: "You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Here you go anon thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy it and don't mind the little spin I put on it. ______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred9​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _____

“I fucking hate him.”

Slamming your suitcase shut, you shook your head in frustration as Rhea packed up her toiletries bag. You know coming to Damian’s best friend about him probably wasn’t the best idea; but Rhea was your friend too and hopefully she’d be able to give some advice.

“You know I never did understand why you two don’t get along I mean I’ve seen people hate each other but you two are on a completely different level. What’s up with that?”

“He drives me crazy! Always with his little snide remarks, how he thinks I should be extra wrap yourself in bubble wrap careful because I’m smaller than him I may get hurt than where would I be. And it’s always remarks about how I annoy him plus the millions of other things.”

Rhea listened to you animatedly talking an amused smile crossing her face, she knew something that you and Damian probably didn’t yet. The two of you had some major sexual tension and she had even spoken with a Finn about it who readily agreed. The way you and Damian were constantly bickering and trying to one up the other with words. She truly believed deep down it was because you guys had some hidden feelings.

“I just really want to hit him, preferably over the head with a chair.”

“Maybe you both need to get laid, work off your frustration through sex not fighting each other.”

Hearing the words out of the Aussie woman’s mouth had you stopping in your tracks mouth agape as you looked at her.

“No way could I sleep with Damian are you kidding me? He’s so…well you know and just absolutely could never happen.”

“Babes, I never said sleep with Damian I just said the two of you need to get laid but it’s very interesting you automatically assume I meant sleep with him.”

She smirked causing your face to heat up as you zipped your case shut and pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t even think about spinning any narratives Ripley I mean it I will kick your ass.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Rhea winked, walking over when a knock sounded on the locker room door. Stepping back, you frowned when Damian stepped past her his eyes zeroing in on you.”

“Sorry didn’t realize you were busy with..her I can just come back.”

“No, it’s fine I just need to get something from Becks why don’t you wait here and then we can head out.”

Without giving either of you a chance to respond Rhea quickly left slamming the door behind her. Huffing, you went about collecting the rest of your things, doing your best to ignore Damian which wasn’t an easy feat.

“Are you going to just stand in the way or sit the fuck down?”

You asked, trying to slip past him to grab your phone charger Damian continued to block your way and when you looked up you were startled to see his eyes were darker than normal.

“Why don’t you try asking nicer?”

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?”

Pushing past him you picked up your charger and freeze when he spoke again.

“Bend over and I will.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening as you slowly turned to look at him, a brow raised.

“Excuse me?”

Slowly he walked over to you and watched as you backed up right into the wall a smirk crossing his face as he leaned closer to you.

“I said, bend over and I will.”

Gulping you clear your throat avoiding his gaze.

“No thanks I’d rather be hit by a car.”

“How long are we going to play this game princesa?”

“What game?”

“The one where we pretend to hate each other when deep down I think we both know we want nothing more than to fuck each other.”

His voice had dropped to a low whisper that had your thighs clenching as he leaned close. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder then pulled back tilting his head a few times.

“What?”

“Just thinking and you know what? You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Your eyes widen as his hand captured your neck and his lips crashed into yours a hot needy kiss that left you both panting for air and heated with desire.

“My hotel room, 208 soon as you get there.”

“Okay…I’ll be there.”

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest fanfic #prompt drabble #enemies to lovers

[capricornlevi]

i have a memory - kishibe x f!reader

cw: brief mention of violence and threat (not graphic), consumption of alcohol/cigarettes, explicit sexual content (oral sex f! receiving, fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex) - NSFW, MDNI

word count: 8.9k

a/n: thinking about how young cocky annoying kishibe showed up for 3 panels and changed the trajectory of my life forever ... so here's 9k words of kinda-sorta-enemies slash annoying colleagues to lovers .... with a tiny splash of angst too for good measure? i just love this man and think he's a secret softie so here's him successfully pulling for once <3

___

“You’d really say no to a smoke?” 

Kishibe’s question sounds disbelieving as he holds out the box of cigarettes in your direction. Instead of answering, you choose to wave away his offer dismissively. Still shocked, he continues, “you’re not even a little tempted?”

You roll your eyes. You’re one of few devil hunters in the Public Safety Division that rarely, if ever, smokes; a fact that makes you somewhat of an oddity to people like Kishibe, your partner, who seems to keep the tobacco industry afloat through his wages alone.

“Nope,” you reply simply. “They taste bad.”

Your replies are clipped and borderline rude but you can’t bring yourself to care - not when he’s dragged you to this place yet again, at this godforsaken hour of the morning, to “look over your case files” even though he never seems to actually care enough to read them. 

The place in question is a dingy old café on the outskirts of town, one that Kishibe insists on coming to even though there’s a fancy new artisanal coffee shop just down the road. His loyalty to this dump baffles you. 

In theory, you don’t object to meeting up this early - you usually prefer to grab a hot drink at this time anyway, just to keep your hands warm, and Kishibe always needs to take a smoke break, so better to get it out of the way before the day kicks off - but you hate how he never seems to take these meetings seriously. It feels like wasted hours you could have spent sleeping. 

Adding to your resentment is the fact that you have to sit outside in the freezing cold just so he can grab a smoke. He doesn’t like walking and smoking at the same time; it distracts him too much, apparently. 

You hate it out here. As grim as it is on the inside of the café, the exterior is far worse; grey, miserable concrete floors and walls, no decoration of any sort, and just one solitary table for outdoor dining. 

And at that lonely table, there is only one chair - the chair which you’re currently sitting on. Thankfully, Kishibe knew better than to fight you for it since it’s his smoking habit that’s keeping you outside.

He’s leaning against the wall next to you, peering down curiously as you sip your drink with a poorly-concealed grimace. 

“You really sure you don’t want one?” he asks again. 

“Shut up and smoke the damn cigarette. It’s fucking freezing.” 

Kishibe lets out a short huff of amusement, finally fishing a cigarette out of the box and bringing it to his lips. He slips the box back into his shirt pocket and then pulls out his rusty old lighter, soft strands of black hair falling into his eyes as he lights the cigarette. His lips purse around the tightly-rolled tobacco, his cheekbones stained pink from the cold. 

You don’t know why your eyes linger on the sight. To distract yourself, you open up a copy of the report sitting on the table in front of you. 

Kishibe takes a long drag before exhaling with a pleasured sigh, eyes closed with bliss. 

“Doesn’t taste too bad to me.”

“Well, that’s you,” you mutter, scanning over the paper on the table. You’ve just picked it up from the captain of your division - he left it a little late to brief you both, considering the mission starts today - and you want to have at least a passable knowledge of what you’re up against before setting out. 

You’ve worked a few jobs with Kishibe since being assigned as his partner and generally, you tolerate him fine. He doesn’t try to ruin your day (you don’t think, anyway). You even share a few laughs every now and then, once you grew to understand his strange and overconfident sense of humour. He’s manageable. 

But at times like this, times when you should be focusing on the job that’s been assigned to you instead of just fucking around, smoking cigarettes and taunting each other …

At times like this, he can really get on your nerves.

He’s far from a bad hunter, you know that. His strength and skill have given him quite the reputation even though he’s still in the early stages of his career, and he approaches every fight with the sort of stoic level-headedness you could only aspire to.

He’s good. Too good, almost, and it scares you how he manages it all without even breaking a sweat.

That’s the real reason he gets under your skin so often. It's all too easy for him, and it’s a humbling reminder of your own mortality. He may not need to do this much preparation and research in order to stay alive, but you certainly do. You can’t take any chances. 

That, coupled with the fact that you can’t even enjoy your morning cup of coffee indoors anymore … 

“You sure it’s just the taste you don’t like?” he pipes up as if on cue, prompting you to give him a withering look over the top of the report. “You’re not scared of them, are ya? Cos we’re not gonna live long enough to worry about the side effects of smoking, if that’s what’s actually bothering you.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t smoke,” you reply, unimpressed. “I’d rather spend what little time I have left doing things that I actually enjoy.” You gesture dismissively at the cigarette dangling between his lips. “And those things taste like shit, so I don’t bother wasting my time or money on them.”

He raises his eyebrows when he takes his next drag, whisps of grey smoke spilling out into the frosty air as he exhales. “I could get offended here, y’know?”

“Why would you be offended?” you say disinterestedly, your eyes lingering on the part of the report that details the previous fatalities of the devil in question. 

“Are you saying that I taste like shit, then?”

“Maybe you do,” you say, setting the paper back down in front of you with a yawn. “I don’t care.”

Kishibe’s grinning down at you now. He has that kind of smile that always reaches his eyes, and you’d almost find it charming were it not always associated with him trying to tease you. 

You’ve read enough of the report at this point - it sounds awful, but all the death and destruction and suffering starts to blur together after enough time - and so fold the paper in half and slip it into your jacket pocket, trying as best as you can to ignore the grin spreading across Kishibe’s face.

“I don’t taste like shit, y’know,” he elaborates, even though you didn’t ask him to. 

“You’re a freak.”

Your comment does nothing to halt his attempt at conversation. 

“Well, I have these breath mints, y’know - y’know those ones you can pick up at the counter in drug stores? They’re pretty good, cancels out the taste. So I make sure I don’t taste bad.” 

He finishes his sentence by stubbing his cigarette out on the ashtray and opening the little tin of mints that he keeps in the same pocket as his lighter. He pops a mint into his mouth and stays looking smug, so smug you could slap the expression right off his face.

You are in no mood to entertain him any further, so just fire off an agreement in the hope of shutting him up. 

“Fine. I’ll take your word for it.”

But you should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, because not a second later he asks, practically beaming …

“Do you wanna find out?” 

You get up from your chair abruptly, shoving him with your shoulder as you pass him on the way out of the café. He gasps in feigned indignation and is just about to speak up again before you call out a question of your own. 

“Has a line like that ever worked on anyone?”

He laughs, though it ends in a cough. You turn to leave but still hear his answer from over your shoulder. 

“Nope.”

______

The job is a tough one, even by the standards of devil hunters. 

Kishibe has your back and you have his, but it’s not enough to save the many casualties who you had hoped to keep out of harm’s way. Collateral damage is a given in your line of work, but this … this was a particularly bad day.

You and Kishibe travel home in silence. He doesn’t say anything to draw a reaction out of you, and in turn, you don’t make a comment when he pulls his box of cigarettes from his now blood-stained shirt pocket. 

It’s a mutual understanding, and you’re grateful for it. 

_____

The next day, once you’ve had the closest thing to a full night’s sleep you could hope for given your line of work, you’re awoken by the sound of Kishibe knocking on your door. 

You know the sound all too well. He gives three loud raps against the doorframe, all in quick succession; he might pretend otherwise, but he’s a creature of habit. You don’t even have to look through the peephole to know that it’s him. 

“I have a question,” he announces the moment you open the door, without so much as a greeting. “Just a quick one.”

“... go ahead.”

You’ve worked with him for long enough to know that it’s better to let him tell his piece first, and then you can ask for elaboration later. You don’t try to slow him down with a ‘good morning’. It wouldn’t be helpful for either of you. 

“A few friends in another division are going out for drinks tonight. Same place as usual. Shitty beer, but it’s cheap and the other division’s buying a few rounds, so they’ll get us drunk as hell. Wanna go?”

“You couldn’t have just called me with this question?” you ask, head still a little groggy. It’s well into the afternoon, but had Kishibe not come for this unexpected visit, you’d likely still be in bed. 

“Nope, because then it’d be easier for you to come up with an excuse to blow us off,” he replies quickly - too quickly, almost as if he’d prepared this little speech beforehand. “So if you really don’t wanna go, that’s fine, no complaints here. All I ask is that you don’t say no out of instinct. I think it’d be good, y’know, to get some space? Perspective, and shit like that? You’ll get to see a few people from other divisions, too. I know you’re probably tired of looking at my face every day, handsome as it may be.”

He’s looking at you directly, presenting his case in such a typically Kishibe way; straightforward, reasoned, calm, logical. And still just a little bit annoying.

Part of you is still a little resentful as to how he can bounce back so quickly and appear so unaffected by all of this. He’s still so unperturbed by it all.

But a bigger part of you appreciates that he gives enough of a damn to come out here and check up on you after a particularly difficult mission. You know of plenty of hunters who get stuck with partners who couldn’t care less whether they lived or died, let alone bothered to check on their mental well-being.

For all his faults, he’s a good guy. Irritating at times and a bit too sure of himself, but a good guy nonetheless. He’s trying to cheer you up and, try as you might, you can’t think of a valid reason to turn down his request. 

“Fine, I’ll go.”

His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost relieved.

“See you there at around eight o clock, so?” he inquires, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Sure thing.”

His smile turns mischievous, a transformation you see far too often. 

“Want me to wear something nice? I have a nice red lacy number you might like-” 

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before you close the door in his face. 

“See you later!” he calls out, voice muffled on the other side of the door. You hear his footsteps as they traipse down the hallway of your apartment building, and then he’s gone. 

This is fine. You can stomach a few short hours of socialising with the other divisions. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it? You know a few of them already and you have Kishibe there to back you up if any of them get too messy. Your partner is a big drinker, but he can hold it well. Better than most people, actually (yet another frustrating thing about him).

As you start to walk back to your kitchen to make the first of many coffees, you start to notice something. It’s subtle, and you can’t quite place what it is until you’ve finished preparing your drink. 

You groan out loud once you realise what you've noticed.

Even with the earthy aroma of the freshly-ground coffee beans filling your kitchen, you can still smell Kishibe’s aftershave. 

It feels like … like it’s on you, or something. It feels like it’s all over your body.

You’re not complaining about the aftershave itself, obviously. It actually smells pretty nice - you’d never say it to his face, but the man has good taste. 

You’re just annoyed because it’s yet another reminder that Kishibe is everywhere. 

Whether it’s through these impromptu visits, through his frequent texts and emails, or just in the course of your work, he’s absolutely everywhere. He’s there when you wake up, he’s there while you work, he’s even there whenever you try to get some peace and quiet at the café or in bars after work. 

And after last night, he seems to be in your dreams, too, but you won’t dwell on that any further. Not if you have any hope of catching a break from him. 

You don't let yourself panic. You reason that dreams are just the mind’s way of processing what it experiences throughout the day. It means nothing. Having a dream involving a colleague, of him taking you in his arms, holding you close, touching you where you need to be touched … 

… it’s just a sign that you spend way too much time together. 

You clutch your favourite mug in your hands, feeling the heat warm your palms. It’s a standard mug, plain white porcelain with “World’s Best Boss” printed on the side; a gift from your former partner.

You think about what happened to her, and feel a lump form in your throat. 

No. Can’t get too close. 

___

When you arrive at the bar later that night, you find it to be so packed with hunters that the place is flooded with cigarette smoke. The air is so dense it’s almost a fog, the haze of it obscuring your vision slightly. You can see where you’re going but it’s difficult to make out faces. 

You can only hope that you don’t walk up to someone, mistake them for Kishibe, and call them a fucking idiot out of instinct. He’d never let you live it down if he found out. 

You cough to clear your throat as you make your way to the booths in search of your partner, trying to dodge the people pushing past with arms full of beer glasses. 

It’s not long before you spot him - or rather, hear him. 

“Hey!” he shouts to you from over your shoulder, and you spin around to see him standing right behind you. His speech is muffled by the cigarette between his lips, his tie is loose and the top buttons of his shirt are undone, and you see the pale-pink border of scar decorating his chest that would usually be hidden by his jacket. He’s holding a beer in one hand and so places the other on your shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness, guiding you over to the booth on the furthest left-hand side of the room. “You’re an honorary smoker now!”

Any other day you’d slap his hand away, interpreting the gesture as being just typical Kishibe trying to irritate you with overfamiliarity. However, after the mission the two of you just had, you choose to let it slide. 

It might be time to start giving him the benefit of the doubt. 

Maybe, if you tried, you could even grow to like him. 

… but that thought doesn’t seem right. No, not right at all; because you didn’t have to try. Maybe you already do like him, and it happened without you even realising. 

You take a sip from the glass of whiskey that someone’s just shoved into your hand and you feel the warmth spread down your throat and through your chest. 

God, need to be careful. 

The realisation hits you like a brick wall; you absolutely and unequivocally must not get too attached to Kishibe. You can’t. You won’t. 

Getting personally involved with someone in your line of work is one of the most reckless things a person can do. If luck is on his side and he isn’t killed or seriously injured at some point in the near future, then you definitely will be the one to die instead. Your chances of passing away from natural causes are slim to none.

There’s no real hope for a nice, happy, white-picket-fence future; you gave that up long ago. To indulge in the new and silly feelings you’re experiencing for the man whose hand is still clasped on your shoulder … it would be foolish. 

Your best hope at happiness is to be fond of Kishibe from a distance. To tolerate him as a partner and respect him as a colleague, and leave it at that. No more, no less.

Once you’ve arrived at the booth - his touch still so noticeable on the exposed skin near your neck - he introduces you to three devil hunters. You greet the two men who you recognise as being from another division, along with a woman with an eye patch and striking white hair. From word of mouth, you’d assume this is Quanxi, the famous former partner Kishibe had worked with for a couple of years before being reassigned. 

You take a seat next to her while your partner sits across from you next to the two men, and even as you settle into conversation with the rest of the group, it takes a surprising amount of effort to try and ignore that you miss having him within touching distance.

You need a distraction and, thankfully, you grow to like Quanxi very quickly. She’s blunt and straightforward but makes good conversation. She tells you enough embarrassing stories about Kishibe to last you a lifetime and has a similar outlook on life as you do; she’s practical but not emotionless, reserved but still dedicated to her work. 

Unfortunately for you, she’s also very observant.

“You don’t drink much?” she asks out of the blue as Kishibe gets up to fetch another round. “Kishibe told me you don’t smoke, but from the look of your glass … you’re still on your first beer, whereas those two,” she adds, pointing dismissively at the other two hunters, “are nearly finished with their fourth.”

“ ... I had a whiskey before I sat down.”

“Even still,” Quanxi counters, holding up her empty whiskey glass for emphasis - she must have finished the bottle by now. 

You shrug, unsure as to what your answer would even be. “Tonight’s just an off night for me, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I just have a lot on my mind,” you admit. It’s uncharacteristically candid of you considering you’ve only just met, but Quanxi seems trustworthy. “I’m scared that drinking will make it … a bit harder to deal with.”

Luckily, Quanxi doesn’t seem too eager to push the topic. “Fair enough. As long as it’s not because you think it  … tastes bad, or something.”

You see her glance over to Kishibe for a split second, so quick it’s almost not noticeable. She grins, then, and you know for sure that he’s been talking about you. 

Kishibe, you swear to yourself. If the devils don’t kill him then you will. 

___

A couple of hours pass before you excuse yourself to step outside for some fresh air. It’s not an excuse - you really do need some air, as even the heaviest smokers in the bar have started to complain about how stuffy it’s become. You don’t feel too guilty about needing a break.

The night air is cold but fresh and crisp and so you welcome it, inhaling deeply into your lungs as you round the corner to the quiet alley next to the bar. Once there, you rest your back against the cool stone of the wall. You’re wearing only a skirt and a silk blouse, your jacket hanging up inside the bar, but you don’t shiver. 

You look up to the sky to try and see some stars, only to find them shielded by a thick covering of dark clouds. 

It could rain at any moment, you think to yourself. You really hope it doesn’t. 

“Quanxi scare you off?” a familiar voice calls out from the corner, attracting your attention. “Anything she told you about me is a lie, promise. Unless it’s good, then it’s extremely true.”

You chuckle softly. “No, just needed some air.”

“Same here,” Kishibe says cordially, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. “Too warm in there.”

You watch him approach you with a soft smile and see that his walk is steady. He’s either not drunk at all or he’s very good at hiding it. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you and so you point it out.

“Kishibe, you’re not drinking as much as usual.” 

He chuckles. He’s reached where you’re standing and decides to follow your lead, resting his back against the wall and tilting his head upwards to see what you were looking at before. The two of you stay there, looking at the blank night sky. 

He clears his throat, voice still conversational and relaxed when he starts speaking. 

“Between the drinking and the smoking … you’re awful concerned about my health recently, aren’t ya?”

“Just being nosy, I guess,” you say, writing it off as plain old curiosity. You can’t think of any other reason for noticing it. 

“But you’re right, I’m taking it easy tonight,” he continues. “Not in the mood.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to come here to get shitfaced?” 

He shrugs. “No fun getting shitfaced by yourself, though, is it?”

“Ouch,” you chuckle, clutching your chest for dramatic effect. “I know I’m kinda quiet tonight, but-“

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” he grins with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t know the guys in there all that well, and the ones that I do know are fucking idiots when they’re wasted. Quanxi holds her liquor too well to even get tipsy, and you’re barely drinking, so I’m following your lead.”

Now it’s your turn to feel surprised. You thought you were the more observant of the two of you, but it turns out Kishibe notices the same things.

“I’m a good influence, then.”

Kishibe snorts at that, but somehow the sound is endearing. “Don’t go that far. We’re both still in this shitty job, so you can’t be all that sensible.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you agree, laughing too. “I’m good enough at wasting our pitiful little paycheck.”

“On what?”

He’s still grinning but looks genuinely curious, and huh, you have to stop and think on that one. You don’t really have any major vices (that you can think of), and you’re not a compulsive shopper, but you still manage to spend your money every month.

It’s not worth feeling guilty over, though; you just like surrounding yourself with little pleasures to distract from the grim nature of your work. 

You like getting nice furniture for your apartment, and this certain fancy brand of coffee. You like going to a local gallery and being able to buy any painting you want … 

… and, as you said earlier, you like things that taste good.

“I spend a lot of money on coffee,” you start. “Too much money. More than you spend on cigarettes, probably.”

“That’s-”

“A lot, I know,” you roll your eyes before continuing. “I also buy paint, canvases, brushes … things like that.”

“You paint?”

“A little. When I get the chance.”

He raises his eyebrows thoughtfully. Seems you’ve genuinely surprised him for once.

You keep going - now that you’ve remembered your little shopping list, it’s hard to stop the thoughts from flowing out. 

“And I got this green couch for my apartment. Ridiculously expensive, but I’ve wanted it for ages. I sometimes buy old books, too, and I always get this overpriced lip balm that tastes like apples.”

You pause then, to show you’re finished recalling your expenses. You have to laugh at the bemused expression on Kishibe’s face. 

“That it?” he asks, but he sounds suitably impressed. Like you’ve finally opened up to him in a way he can appreciate.

“That’s it, I think.”

He’s so close to you now that you’re practically shoulder-to-shoulder. You’re both just resting against the wall having a friendly chat, but the closeness feels … it feels both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. You’re used to having him always there, but never within touching distance. Never so casual and easy and enjoyable.

He clears his throat.

“So all that … that’s what you’re wasting all your money on? I’ll remember that next time I foot the bill for lunch.”

”I forgot my wallet one time,” you answer, shoving his shoulder with yours, “one time ever. Surely you’ve financially recovered by now.”

You’re not sure what possesses you, but as you’re still standing side-by-side, you lean your head down to rest it against his shoulder. It feels natural, like something you don't even have to think about. Kishibe was close, he was right there, and you wanted him closer.

His voice doesn’t betray any surprise at your actions, but the way the muscles in his arm tense as you nestle against him shows that he wasn’t expecting it.

But the fact that he doesn’t give you any shit for it or shrug you off means that he doesn’t object.

“I guess we can go to yours for coffee from now on,” he points out. “Since you’re apparently a coffee snob, and I’m clearly torturing you with the shit excuse for a beverage they serve at the café.”

“True,” you agree, “though maybe we can try to have a cup indoors for once. Just for the novelty of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like to see if it tastes any better when I’m not freezing my ass off while you have a smoke.”

“We could go now, if you want?” he asks then, and you feel everything slow down around you. 

You’re grateful to be resting against his shoulder because it means he misses your perplexed expression, your eyes widening as he finishes his question.

What does he mean by ‘go now’? Go where? The café closes just after lunch. You never go there unless you’re on a case. It’s the middle of the night, there are no other cafes even open nearby … 

As if reading your mind, he elaborates. 

“No, not go to the café,” he says, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. It’s deep now, almost gravelly, instead of that usual ‘so smug it’s almost chirpy’ tone he utilises when he’s trying to annoy you on missions. His voice sounds nice - so nice that an inconvenient tingle spreads in your chest as you hear it. “I meant we could go back to yours. For some of that ridiculously expensive coffee, I mean.”

Is he trying to mess with you? It almost feels like a game, like he’s trying to trick you into saying something that will only make life more inconvenient for the both of you.

“You want coffee at midnight?” you ask, slowly.

“Sure do,” he answers without hesitation. “If you’ll be so kind as to host.”

You draw your head back and look at him quizzically. You know exactly how he acts when he’s messing with you and this isn’t it. He’s not smirking when he speaks; instead, he’s looking at you with an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. It throws you off in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant, and so you say,

“Sure, let’s head back to mine.”

___

You grab your jacket from inside the bar as Kishibe hails a cab, and before you know it, the two of you are standing at your doorstep, just as you were earlier today when he invited you out. You feel different now, though; adrenaline coursing through your veins for no discernable reason. 

This all feels surreal. You and Kishibe here, alone, after hours, without the convenience of a mission to keep you distracted. And yet, you don’t dwell on it.

You’re moving as if possessed, desperately avoiding any overthinking of your actions as you take him by the hand and guide him through the door to your hallway, through to the kitchen then. Neither of you says anything as you walk. You only let go of his hand when you arrive at the countertop where you keep the coffee, resting a hand against the surface to ground yourself.

The kitchen is dark since you didn't bother the turn on the lights. Only the glow of the streetlamps illuminates the room, casting a glow over the two of you.

You blink up at him. He stays looking at you pensively. 

You’re still not sure how literally he was speaking when he mentioned wanting coffee. Would he laugh at you if you started to brew some? You want to touch him again, want to feel him ever closer than he was before, but … have you misinterpreted the situation entirely?

Kishibe clears things up for you. He steps in your direction, shoulders set and expression difficult to place. He’s not touching you yet but he’s so gotten so close now …  closer than colleagues or partners or even friends tend to go, only inches away from your body.

He’s so close you can feel whisps of his hair tickling your forehead, you can see the crinkles in his shirt and the outline of the lighter in his jacket pocket.

He stop then, hesitating, eyes scanning your face. 

“You okay?” he asks, smiling at you - a kind smile, not brass or cocky. 

You nod, the movement shallow and jerky and perhaps a bit too quick. 

“Yeah, just … my head’s all over the place.”

“Nothing has to happen,” he replies quietly. “We can just have coffee, if you’d prefer.”

“So you really want coffee?” you ask, eyebrow raised. “We’re sticking with that story?”

“Doesn’t have to be coffee,” he counters. “Tea, water, I don’t care. I just … I like spending time with you.”

You return his smile just as genuinely. “You’re being so … nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I am,” you say emphatically. “Did I accidentally bring someone else’s partner home?”

He laughs, a nice sound, and your heart hammers against your ribcage. 

“Nope. Stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

His answer is conversational and friendly, but the look in his eyes betrays him. You know he means it. 

You know it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s your partner, and you’re supposed to be objective, and it goes against every rational thought in your brain. 

But the idea of being stuck with him sounds so appealing ... you can’t pay much attention to your rational side.

It’s not Kishibe who closes the distance between the two of you; instead, you step closer, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt, and then press your lips to his. 

It’s not a slow kiss. It starts intense and it only builds from there, teeth almost clacking together as you tangle your hands in his hair. It’s clumsy, almost; he’s pawing your thighs, lower back, waist, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch first. You take a gentle grip on his hair, marvelling at how soft it feels in your hands, the silky tresses just so tuggable.

You’ll park that thought for later.

Kishibe deepens the kiss, running his tongue against your lips and then pushing into your mouth, not letting go of your body the whole time. 

It’s funny; a part of you thought that he would be as confident and dominant in these circumstances as he is in his professional life -

(Yes, you’ve thought about it before … it’s not as though the thought of sleeping with him has never crossed your mind. You’re stubborn, but not blind.)

- but he’s taking as much as he’s giving, getting as much satisfaction from your reaction as he does from anything else. He moves with you, noting what you like as the moments pass, gauging your reaction from your whimpers and moans and the way you’re not-so-subtly rubbing against his thigh.

He kisses your neck, lingering on your pulse point, leaving a mark that you’re sure will be visible tomorrow. The thought is strangely thrilling; the idea of you and Kishibe working a case together, with marks all over your skin just begging to be noticed. Marks that show he wanted you all to himself and needed everyone to know it. 

When you push your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his suit pants pressing against you, you tighten your grip on his hair. He notices and responds eagerly, grabbing your ass over the thin fabric of your skirt and pressing you flush against him. The heat of his body makes your mind go numb. 

You can smell his aftershave again, all over your body as he kisses and rubs and touches, but you have no complaints this time. 

He leans in as if to kiss you again but stops just short, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. 

“You have no idea how badly I want this,” he murmurs. “How badly I’ve wanted it. But … it might make things just a little bit complicated.”

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you whisper, looking into his eyes to show your confidence in your answer. You’re too far gone to back out now. You haven’t felt touch like this in so long, having kept yourself so guarded and withdrawn for years. Kishibe understands; he knows the risks of this job, and he knows how lonely it gets. He knows you so well. Knows what you need. 

“I’m okay with it,” he says, lips quirked upwards. He’s still pressed against you, his thigh spreading your legs open slightly. “Want me to show you how much?”

His eyes flicker down your body past your chest, and you know exactly what he’s thinking about doing. Every inch of your skin feels hot. Your clit pulses at the very idea of what he’s suggesting - it seems like his confidence might pay off. 

“I want you,” you reply. You think about finishing the sentence with something a bit more articulate, but Kishibe’s eyes darken at your earnest response, pupils blown out and expression ravenous. 

He places a large hand on your thigh, the exposed skin tingling under his touch. He slides it up slowly, so slowly, grazing up to the seam of your underwear. He runs a finger over your clothed core and you gasp, hips almost bucking into his touch. His thumb circles your clit then returns to stroking the damp fabric between your legs, so impossibly close to where you need him. 

He’s so close to it. So close - if he just angled his fingers a little more, he could plunge two inside you, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you as you melt underneath him. 

“Please-“ you choke, the pleasure almost becoming an ache. “I … I need-“

“What do you need, baby?” he whispers into the shell of your ear, teeth giving a gentle tug on your lobe when he finishes his question. “What do you need from me?”

“More, please. More.“

He doesn’t ask you to elaborate any further. Instead, he guides you to the countertop, pressing you against it at first, unable to keep from connecting his mouth to some part of you for too long (this time, it’s the swell of your breasts over the neckline of your blouse). 

Once he pulls back, lips leaving your cleavage with a wet ‘pop’,  he helps you up onto the countertop. Once you’re sitting comfortably on the edge, he slides his hands up your thighs again. You feel the cool marble on the underside of your legs, pleasantly contrasting the heat of his hands. 

He tugs at the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips to allow him to pull them down, feeling the cold air against your exposed skin as he does so. You’re so wet and he notices immediately. His tongue swipes over his lower lip, a pink flush having settled across his cheekbones. 

He’s annoyingly pretty like this, looking up at you from between your legs. 

You want to make him feel good with your mouth too. The thought of it makes your head swim; between the tenting in his pants and the look on his face … 

He cuts off your thoughts with a brush of his lips over your inner thigh. He kisses you again, leaving no inch of skin untouched as he gets closer and closer to your core. 

When he reaches the divot at the very top of your thighs, he loses his control just a bit, pressing wet and sloppy kisses, the obscene sound of which would make you embarrassed in any other circumstances.

You let out a desperate, uncharacteristic mewl, but you don’t feel any embarrassment. This side of Kishibe - whose only aim is to make you come undone - you know that he won’t make fun of you. The only reaction he’s trying to get from you now is one of pure and mindless pleasure. 

You gasp out loud as you finally get the contact you have been seeking; Kishibe presses a gentle closed-mouth kiss to your clit that makes your entire body shudder. With barely any contact he already has you quivering, goosebumps forming all over. The press of his mouth against your pussy is careful, explorative; lips and tongue tracing all over your slick flesh. 

The first proper lick stokes a fire in your core, burning hot and desperate as you tighten your thighs around his face. His hands grip your legs and pull them apart further, allowing better access for what he wants to do. 

Long, slow strokes up your folds and circles around your clit, all combining to make you feel pliant and boneless. 

“Please … please … please …” you beg over and over, though you don’t want him to change anything, you just don’t want him to stop. You feel like crying at the thought of it being taken away for even a second, for him to stop the perfect movement of his tongue against your aching cunt. “Please keep going.”

He hums his approval and moves to start suckling your clit with just enough pressure to make your vision go white behind your now-shut eyes. You feel the slightest pressure against your entrance as he presses a finger hesitantly - you throw your head back with a desperate cry of “yes!”, and he pushes it in in one fluid motion.  

You feel a bit conflicted about closing your eyes because the image in front of you is so enticing; a few strands of his dark hair are stuck to his forehead with the faint sheen of sweat that’s building as he fucks you with his fingers, his eyes looking up at you beseechingly through dark lashes with a particularly firm flick of his tongue … 

You want to keep looking at him, you do, but you can’t. It’s too much. The sensation is building quicker than you can react to it, and so you lay back on the counter, your back arching as he keeps up his perfect pace. 

The pleasure is low and warm and unending, deep inside you, and for a brief moment, it scares you that Kishibe is the one doing this to you. 

Kishibe, your annoying coworker who you’re supposed to be keeping at arm’s length - he's the one making you scream and cry out his name as if it’s the only word you can remember.

Kishibe is the one who’s making your eyes roll back into your head, the one who’s taking you apart with just his mouth and fingers (now, two of them). 

You’re surrendering yourself to him, and yet, you don’t have the slightest urge to halt any of it. 

Heat starts collecting in your core, a ball of warm pleasure starting to grow and grow until you couldn’t contain it even if you wanted to. He can feel you tighten around his fingers and speeds up without altering the pressure, just giving you more of what you need. Your incoherent babbling only spurs him on. 

When you tip over the edge and quiver desperately underneath him, coming apart entirely, it takes you by surprise; there was no build-up because it was all too overwhelming, too blinding, to be able to determine at what point exactly your pleasure started to crest.

It just takes over.

When you come down from it, you decide to take just a minute to collect yourself as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You close your eyes again, blinking back the tears that collected against your waterline. 

It’s a little strange. You haven’t had a sexual experience like that since … well, ever. 

Thinking about things rationally, you come up with a few reasons for your very enthusiastic response. First and foremost, you haven’t had sex in a long time, not since joining the agency, not since dating became too messy. You’ve been a bit stressed, too, a bit pent up. You needed some relief. You haven’t had any … alone time in a while, either. 

But as you noted earlier, you’re not listening to the rational part of your brain tonight. Not one of those reasons explains the effect Kishibe just had on you.

And the most confusing part is that even after making you come harder than you have in years, you want him even more intensely now. 

Sitting up on the counter, you drag him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. You run your hands up his chest, fingers grazing off the tell-tale outline of the cigarette box in his pocket. You move to rest your hands against his nape, feeling the prickliness of his undercut against your fingertips. 

His pants are still on but you can feel he’s painfully hard, straining against his zipper as he clings to you. 

He starts unbuttoning your shirt and you do the same to his, taking in the view of his sharply-cut torso as he sheds his clothes. 

It’s all lean muscle, thin white-lined scars covering his chest, a few freckles here and there. A painful-looking blue-black bruise sits above his hip and you frown upon noticing it. He pries your hand away from his shirt buttons, bringing your index finger to his lips and kissing it softly. 

“I’m fine,” he reassures you. “Don’t worry about it.”

You want to press further but relent at the last moment, going back to finish your task of unbuttoning his shirt. You can be concerned later; now, he needs you as much as you need him. 

“Where do you want to -?” he asks, trailing off at the end. 

You widen your eyes suggestively, glancing down at the countertop beneath you. 

He scoffs. “... here?” 

You shrug, smirking coyly. “Why not? Curtains are shut. And even if they weren't, it's not like we haven't disgraced ourselves enough already.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he says with a grin, eyes flicking down to catch a glimpse of your chest. 

You hop down from the counter and kiss him again, hastily unzipping his pants and taking him out of his underwear. Thick and heavy in your hand - the overconfidence comes from somewhere, obviously - you feel him throb against your touch. 

A few gentle strokes and he’s groaning, eyes shut and head tilted back, beads of precum gathering at the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight; Kishibe, having just opened his eyes, snaps when he sees the effect this is having on you. He spins you around and bends you over the counter, tugging your skirt up above your hips. You’re standing here so exposed - no shirt, no underwear, only the thin fabric of your skirt shielding your naked form - but you trust him now, just as much as you do when your life is in his hands. 

He drags the tip of his cock against your pussy and you gasp. 

You’re not sure how, but you feel empty without him inside, even though you haven’t even felt it yet.

You spread your legs for him, wet and stretched enough to take whatever he has to give you. 

As the head of his cock pushes inside you, Kishibe is the one to moan then, deep and low. 

“Oh baby,” he breathes. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel so good already, my love. You’re squeezing right around me, fuck,” he stills against you, hands on your hips preventing you from sliding back against him. “I … I need a second.”

“Done already?” you tease, looking back at him over your shoulder, your shaking legs barely supporting you. You grip the countertop more firmly to steady yourself. “Surely not?”

“Can you wait a few minutes to give me shit?” he retorts, and you feel his smile as he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Usually I’d say you’d have every right, but I don’t think you want to get into that right now.” He pushes in further then, inch by inch. “Or do you?”

“You’re right,” you laugh airily, “you’re right, just … keep doing that, please.”

He slides in further, almost to the hilt now. He grips your hips with both hands as he seats himself fully inside you. 

You knew it would be a stretch, but this - the feeling of being so impossibly and blissfully full - takes you by surprise nonetheless. He stays there for just another moment as you adjust to him and you feel his thumb stroke slow, soothing circles along your lower back as you inhale slow and deep. 

You push back against him when you’re ready for him to start moving, and he doesn’t hesitate. Pulling his hips back, he thrusts back inside you with a groan, the slap of skin against skin echoing around the kitchen. He sets a strong, steady pace; hips snapping against yours as you rest your forehead on the counter, chest bouncing as he fucks into you as though he’s thought about doing this for years.

Kishibe reaches over and grabs your hands from the counter, crossing them behind your back and holding them in place with his own. This position means you arch further, allowing him to thrust deeper inside you, reaching spots you never thought anyone could hit. 

His grip on your wrists is tight but it never hurts; he’s handling you with such care, far more thoughtfully than you would have expected. That being said, he’s not treating you like you’re fragile or breakable - you wouldn’t like it if he did - rather, he’s touching you like your enjoyment is by far the most important aspect of this. He’s treating you like a partner. 

You turn your head so your cheek is resting on the surface. You just want to angle yourself so you can look back and see him. You need to see him, you need to know if he’s as fucked out as you are, reduced to utter desperation, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that you’re so tight and drenched and messy around him. 

When you see him, your breath hitches. Your guess wasn’t too far off.

Kishibe’s flushed now, pink tinting his face and neck, and his chest rises with short, shallow, primal pants. He’s biting down hard on his lower lip, so much so you think it might bleed, and he’s looking right at you, meeting your gaze head-on. His brows are knit tightly together, jaw pulled tight as he keeps his focus on you. He looks to be as close as you are.

When neither of you look away, unable to tear your eyes off eachother, he speeds up his thrusts. He’s chasing his end now; his pace is frenetic, and he lets out a throaty groan when his cock slips out at one point, the speed of his movements and the wetness between your legs making everything a messy, perfect blur. 

“You’re so beautiful, I can’t fucking stand it,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a disbelieving chuckle, “I should have said it sooner. Fuck, you’re so, so beautiful, it drives me insane.”

He lets go of one of your hands, keeping the other pinned behind your back, and you quickly bring it between your legs and trace circles around your clit with your fingers. You’re so wet - both from his mouth and from the way he’s fucking into you now - that you can hear your fingers moving, which means Kishibe can too. 

He leans down and moves his free hand to join yours, collecting some of the wetness between your legs and rubbing your clit in tandem with your movements. You shift your position to allow him to touch you as he wants to, the weight of him against your back and the warmth of his breaths hitting your damp skin wringing a carnal moan from you. 

“So pretty for me, aren’t you?” he says, almost reverent. “So pretty like this. I could do this for hours - could hear you make those noises for the rest of my life, fuck, you’re doing so, so well, my love.”

 You feel it build so quickly that you gasp his name in surprise, the word almost sounding like a question. He understands, keeping the pace of both his thrusts and the circling of his fingers consistent. 

It washes over you like a tidal wave; pulses of explosive pleasure rippling through your muscles, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your chest, only a shaky, weak-sounding moan escaping your lips - you can’t even think of any words right now, let alone speak them. 

“Baby, baby, baby,” Kishibe mutters repeatedly, “oh, fuck, that’s it.”

You feel his cock pulse inside you, his hand releasing the arm that’s still behind your back as he grips your hips instead, grinding into you as deeply as he can. A few more shallow thrusts follow, aftershocks making your cunt flutter around him, and then he stills again, the sound of both your heavy breathing filling the room. 

He doesn’t pull out right away. He straightens you up a little, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck and rubbing up and down your arm. It feels nice; you feel so serenely calm at that point, you could almost fall asleep resting against him.

He straightens up fully once both of your heart-rates return to normal and the sweat on your skin starts to cool, and then he pulls out, grabbing a tissue from the counter to clean for you. 

You fumble with your skirt to pull it further down your thighs - not to hide anything from him, but to provide the tiniest bit of warmth now that Kishibe’s body heat is no longer distracting from the cold.

He picks up his jacket from the floor and walks behind you to rest it on your shoulders. You smile gratefully, letting silence settle between you. He stays there, wrapping an arm around you from behind.

“Do you want me to head away?” he asks, and you can tell from his tone that he wouldn’t be upset if you did. 

You shake your head.

You don’t want him to go yet. Not just yet, not when you’re still processing all that’s just happened. 

“I know it could get complicated,” you begin, trying to reason with him and yourself. “But ... no. I don't want you to go. I ... you can stay over. If that's something you'd like to do.”

“I would."

You let out a short chuckle, half-relief and half-bemusement. “Then I think we shouldn’t talk about complications anymore. For a while, anyway."

“I agree completely,” he mumbles against the crook of your neck.

“First time for everything.”

“You wound me,” he whispers, feigning offence but kissing your hairline anyway. “So does this mean I get a tour of your apartment now?”

Taking the hand that’s wrapped out you, you tug him in the direction of your bedroom. He makes a few characteristic comments on your furniture choices and you elbow him without any malice, pointing out some of your favourite pieces as you make your way through your apartment. 

It feels strangely normal; you crossed this boundary together, but the world hasn’t fallen down around you. 

He’s still the same, you’re still the same … mostly.

You know there’ll be a conversation tomorrow. It can’t go unaddressed considering you spend your working day together, but there’s no use spoiling the serene temporary escape the two of you have carved out for yourselves. 

You reach your bedroom and he follows you into bed wordlessly, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. You interlock his fingers with yours.

Nestled in the sheets with him, you fall asleep more quickly that you have done in recent memory. 

After your entire adult life spent on death’s door, you allow yourself to feel an emotion you barely even recognise anymore.

You feel safe.

#kishibe x reader #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #kishibe #may tries to write

[koorminii]

COLLEGESLUTS.COM — IDEA 686 | HHJ

Part one of the CSC series. You can find this series’ masterpost here. This can be read as a stand-alone, but you may have questions that will be answered in future installations. Keep in mind this is the intro.

There are three things you hate more than anything: 1. Your english Lit. professor, 2. Frat parties, and last but most definitely not least, 3. CollegeSluts.com and their founders. There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything: 1. College, 2. Back alley blowjobs, and 3. The frustrating desire to fuck you silly.

PAIRING: hyunjin x f!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers; smut; crack; angst; college au

WC: 17k…. fear me! (also broke my record!!)

WARNINGS: reader is going through it and will continue to go through it. there’s no development for them at all in this installment i apologize (😭) reader calls skz sex-crazed demons, she’s very confused but not irrational, there’s not many warnings besides for the smut— profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, annoying characters, insanely inexperienced reader, bet making, one-sided hatred, hyunjin wants to figure you out & thank god for that otherwise this series wouldn’t exist, sexual tension bottled up as hate bc yn is stupid. virgin/corruption kink, loss of virginity, overstimulation, dirty talking, unprotected sex…, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, teasing, breast play, and i think that’s it…

A/N: hi angels, i finished this in three days somehow and even though i didn’t plan on this being my post for 400, we hit it recently so this is it! and it’s fitting since a lot of people are waiting for this series <3 I hope you enjoy the first installment, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, my ask box, or in a reblog! & lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent one which is linked below! i hate writing the introduction to a fic and if you feel like this entire one-shot is pointless i promise it’s not 😭 there’s a lot of drama to come soon but i had to establish some things first!

i managed to make a playlist for this series! please enjoy 👩🏾‍💻

mlist; taglist; navi; | ⇦ previous | next ⇨

There are three things you hate more than anything.

Your english lit. professor

Frat parties

last, but most definitely not least, collegesluts. com and it’s founders.

It’s the literal bane of your existence, the reason why it’s so hard for you to sleep at night, and the one thing that makes your skin itch even more than the fuzzy sweaters your grandma knits every winter season.

Maybe if the creator of the site wasn’t such a douchebag, and maybe if the site users weren’t even worse, you wouldn’t abhor it as much as you did. But that’s a lot of maybes— ones that create a reality much different than your own and don’t make you feel much better.

You were first introduced to the hellsite in your second year of college— only made a year before. After you found out, age twenty hanging high over your head and no longer a fresh face in the school system, you’d tried and failed to get it shut down. Multiple times.

Happy, carefree people, would just ignore its existence— get on with their life, allow people to be college sluts in peace, but you couldn’t do that. Only you saw it for what it was, right? A sex site for college-goers to ruin their lives before it even started. Everyone else was too blissed out, a hand shoved in their pants every night as they watched their classmates fuck each other without fail. Only you could really see—

“Hello, can you hear!?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the voice behind you and your shoulders tighten when a finger pokes harshly at your skin.

“What?” You groan, rubbing the section of your arm that was unjustly abused. “Can you just be nice like a normal person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole so why would I be nice to you?”

“Fuck off Seungmin. What do you want?”

The only thing that betrays the fact that he heard you at all is the laugh that echoes behind you. Your chest tightens in response, and you fold your arms over your chest.

Kim Seungmin. A close fourth on your list of things you hate more than anything else. He was one of the users on the-site-that-must-not-be-named. A platinum member actually, a fact that always made your skin burn even in the coldest of weather. He was even friends with the site creators, and you wouldn’t doubt he had a hand in making it completely. He’d never been shy in supporting his use of the site, because nowadays regular cam sites were somehow uncool. He even had shirts with the college sluts logo in big, bold, letters. He was a part of one of the things you couldn’t stand. A big part of it even, but you ignored all that so you could call him your best— and one of your only— friends.

Kim Seungmin is first on the things you love, and that automatically removes him from the list of things you hate. When an arm slings itself across your shoulders you barely react, simply steering you both in the direction of your first class. It’s too early to deal with your best friend, and especially his toothy remarks and sarcasm, but you don’t say so and simply allow him to talk your ear off while you concern yourself with more important things.

Things like Hwang Hyunjin and Christopher Bang. The admins of College Sluts and the cause of the twitch in your brow. Sometimes the amount of hatred you felt for the two amazed you. To others, they were college boys— hotter than most, smart, talented, promiscuous. They had a good personality, a future, and were people a lot of other people got along with (and their other friends but you won’t get into that lest you pop a vessel).

To you, it’s agree to disagree. In short, they’ve got everyone totally fooled. Only sex-crazed low lifes actually managed to create a porn site. It’s one thing to think of it, sprawled around their dorm rooms knocked off their ass and barely sober, but it’s another thing to actually do it— work hard on it, execute such ideas— it’s completely baffling to you. How can no one see how perverted that is? You don’t even know what to call it, but the fire that erupts in your gut is enough to tell you that it’s bad.

There’s a bunch of girls and guys crowding around them, laughing and hugging and touching. Touching as if they were in the privacy of their home and not outside where others could see. It makes your chest heat up, and makes weird maggots swallow up your stomach, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake. You hate it. They’re demons. Sex-crazed demons.

“God, I’m starting to think you’re like anti-sex or something.”

You grunt.

“Literally we’re just walking by and you look like you’re contemplating murder.”

You hum.

“Jesus,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head before waving over at his friends. More like his sinner acquaintances. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not overly religious or particularly shameful— despite how you might seem— but it’s something about that entire group (Seungmin sometimes included) that makes you feel like breaking something. Choking something? Crying? Screaming? You’re not sure anymore.

When you catch Hyunjin’s eye he smirks and you frown. Just the sight of him is enough to make your head hurt and your knees weak. At least, that makes sense to you. The rest of the student body? Not so much.

You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and tear your gaze away from him. Your building isn’t much farther and if you squint really hard you can pretend you don’t see Hyunjin approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s a hot day and when he sidles up to you, shoulders almost touching, it gets much hotter.

“Hey,” he greets, slapping palms with Seungmin and holding one down low for you. Your hand hesitates, almost greeting him in return before you slap his arm and send a glare his way.

“Bye,” you grit, turning your head away from him and grabbing at Seungmin’s arm. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Loosen up!” He calls, his long legs easily catching up to your fast pace. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl.”

Your breath stutters the tiniest bit but you ignore it, not bothering to grant that remark an answer. Hyunjin is flirty. Too flirty. Stupid flirty. The kind of flirty that gets girls like you all riled up even when you’re supposed to be hating him, even when you’re supposed to curse the very ground he walks on, and it just makes the dreadful maggots in your system start up their annoying fluttering.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, even when your grip on his arm tightens at a painful rate. You will your heart to stop beating so damn hard and for your entire body to stop reacting so easily to him. You don’t even know him so why does he hold so much influence over you? Someone like him? Someone who spends their time and their intelligence on a haphazard college porn site? No. No way.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?”

The devil with the long brown hair, and soft cheeks, and cute dimples takes the chance to lean close to your ear, making sure you hear whatever it is he has to say.

“Don’t be too mad at me, bug. I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous today.” Hyunjin pats your cheek, smiling before he leans away, turning back the way he came.

“See you later.”

And that’s that. The sex demon comes to set your cheeks ablaze and leaves once he’s done, letting you deal with your muddled feelings on your own. Once you start walking again, ignoring the stare boring into your cheeks and the confusing pounding of your heart, there’s only three words on your mind.

Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.

There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything:

1. College

2. Back alley blowjobs

3. The frustratingly clear desire he has to fuck you silly.

Hyunjin isn’t sure when he realized it exactly. He doesn’t even know why he reacts to you so strongly. If you were anyone else he probably wouldn’t give you a second glance. He’s sure of it. Maybe it’s the desire to want something you can’t have, or the fact that you aren’t groveling at his feet.

It’s not like Hyunjin has any idea of why exactly you’re so hellbent on hating his guts, nor does he really care all that much. So you don’t like College Sluts, that’s your right as is anyone else’s, but it’s not like he’s shoving the damn shit in your face. He minds his business, manages his porn site, and does it all with a smile on his face. You, though? It’s a miracle he’s seen you smile once. And that was when he wasn’t paying attention and knocked into someone carrying a full tray of food.

Chan laughs at him all the time and so does Minho, wondering if he has some weird kink for wanting people who clearly don’t want him back, but more and more he’s thinking that isn’t the case. He’s always been bold, always been a bit flirty even when he wasn’t trying, and he knows he’s easy on the eyes. It’s not a secret, but your reaction to him isn’t one of disdain or clear attraction, but rather confusion, and that confuses him.

He flips the mic in his hands, switching between cradling it and flinging it every which way. The speakers of the karaoke system effectively drag him from his thoughts as the music gets louder and Jisung spins Felix around on their makeshift stage. Whoops and hollers echo from around them, the rest of their friends cheering at the performance in front of them. Hyunjin can’t bring himself to laugh even as a smile threatens to take hold of his features.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Jisung plops down beside him, slinging an arm around Hyunjin's shoulders as puffs of breath leave his lips. “You’ve been sitting here brooding. What’s going on?”

“I don’t brood,” Hyunjin argues, though he maneuvers his body so he can tell Jisung exactly what has him brooding. “It’s just— I’m still thinking about Y/n.”

“Bro.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to you?”

“Weird that she’s just not interested? This is a new low, Hyunjin. Not everyone is gonna be attracted to you—”

“I know, but that’s not what I’m saying. Doesn’t her whole attitude towards us seem a bit excessive? All over a website.”

“It’s not your typical website.”

“Sung, it’s probably one of the safest porn sites out there because of how exclusive it is. No one but students here can get on it.”

“Does she know that?”

“That’s my point,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair before starting again. “If she doesn’t even know the full details of the site, how can she possibly hate it? Hate us?”

Jisung pauses, looking back towards the stage. It’s true that all eight of them have thought about this at least once. They know there’s people who hate the website, who steer clear of it in all instances, but none who have made petitions and gone to the superintendent requesting an audience about it. No one who’s actively been so hateful to them specifically, refusing to look in their direction unless it’s to send a glare their way.

“Maybe there's another reason?” Jisung offers, sending Hyunjin a sideways glance. “I mean, maybe she just hates porn.”

Hyunjin snorts at that. How can anyone hate porn?

“You’re laughing but I’m dead serious. Has she ever even had a partner?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“You think about her 24/7. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew what she ate for breakfast.”

“Not fucking funny.”

Jisung barks out a laugh, falling over into Hyunjin’s space. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it soon.”

Hyunjin isn’t so sure but he nods anyway, allowing Jisung to go back to the stage for the next song. Hyunjin knocks back his drink, throat constricting barely at the bitter taste. He doesn’t care. He really doesn’t, but there’s something weird about your behavior and he’s more than determined to figure it out. Maybe he needs to just mind his business but fuck that, he thinks, no one is gonna hate him for no reason. Maybe he’s a little too riled up at that, maybe Jisung is right and this is a new low. Maybe he just really can’t deal with rejection well. Maybe.

Minho’s screeching into the mic does it’s hardest to ruin Hyunjin’s night, but the way the rest of his friends tackle him and attempt to steal the mic just makes him laugh, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. This is all he needs— his friends and a good drink to put a smile on his face. And the college porn site he worked very hard on, of course.

The group only gets through a few more songs before they decide to leave, deciding to ignore the fact that some of them have classes in six hours or that they’ll be nursing a bad headache for the entirety of it. Hyunjin is one of them. He laughs along with his friends as they walk, and he watches them from where he stands in the back.

Jisung has his phone out and is making a concerned face, typing furiously on the device. Either they’re having technical issues or his girlfriend is getting on his ass once again. Minho has an arm slung around his shoulders, laughing at whatever it is he’s typing and whoever it is that’s typing back. Next to them Felix and Jeongin have joined hands and Felix swings them back and forth, giggling as he does. Jeongin pretends he doesn’t like it, like usual, but Hyunjin notices the hint of a smile on his face. He always notices.

Chan and Changbin are quiet on either side of him, walking in the tranquil quiet that’s always rare for their group. It feels incomplete— Hyunjin wishes Seungmin could’ve come. He doesn’t know how the boy manages to be friends with the creators of the CSC and also be friends with its #1 hater. Maybe he’s selling secrets, telling you everything about the site, all its loopholes and glitches. Maybe he’s working against them now, coming up with a plan to shut them down once and for all, though Hyunjin doesn’t know if that’s possible.

Right after those thoughts trickle into his mind, he thinks about Seungmin wearing the handmade “merch” for the site, and doesn’t entertain them any longer. It would be ridiculous— even for him— to think that someone who repped college sluts like it was their brand would ever work even harder to tear it away.

The knot in his throat that’s been squeezing at his airways since earlier that night relaxes just a little. He’s never actually said this to anyone, but just as much as he thinks about why you hate him, he thinks about whether Seungmin will hate him too; about if he’ll lose a friend due to reasons he’s not even sure of. As much as he thinks about why you hate him so badly, he thinks about why he doesn’t hate you right back. He wonders why he— instead of wanting nothing to do with you— wants to know everything about you. Why he wants to understand you when you’ve made no effort to understand him, or worse, made up your own mind about who he is without even attempting to entertain the idea that maybe you’re wrong.

Hyunjin has lived his whole life suffering from other people's ideas of him, from their expectations that they held with no prior consultation with him, from the perfect picture of him in their minds that didn’t correlate with the real Hyunjin. He’s had his fair share of wondering, thinking, wanting. And it’s disappointing to see how even after all this time, since childhood, nothing has changed. He’s always wanted what he’s not allowed to have, but it’s not for lack of trying.

They don’t arrive at their frat house quick enough. As soon as the door opens into the building Hyunjin feels like falling asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’s also not sure what last happened on that couch. Between spilled drinks and sex that was too rushed to even make it to a bedroom he’d rather take his chances on an actual bed. Chan doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he comes in, and the seven of them shuffle around each other, spilling into the living room or into the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks as if they didn’t just come back from eating.

Hyunjin knows he’s been distant all night but he can’t be bothered to care as he sends a quick good night his friends’ way and makes his way upstairs. The house holds eight other boys besides them and he’s surprised none of them are downstairs or hanging around even at the late hour. Though, Hyunjin reasons, most of them have girlfriends and the few others that don’t are seniors and probably pull all-nighters in the library or some shit.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to think about that. The year only started back up again a few months ago, he doesn’t need to be thinking about work anymore than he already does. He makes a good living even without a real job, so he’s taking shit day by day. It’s not like anyone else is much different. Most of his seniors are cramming because they were so carefree. Hyunjin doesn’t think about the implications of that either.

The softness of his bed is long overdue and his body sinks into the plush bedding. He strips off his shirt and pants, not bothering to make his way to a shower or put pajamas on or do anything really. He has five hours before he needs to wake back up and this is nothing if not a power nap that won’t help him get through any lectures the next day. Or, later that day rather.

Hyunjin doesn’t concern himself with that though, because there’s only one thing that’s on his mind when he falls asleep and when he wakes up, and that’s what he’s going to say to you tomorrow morning in the first class of the day.

The first thing you manage to think of when you wake up is how best you’re going to ignore Hyunjin today. You’ve been brainstorming, wondering which response will humble him the best, maybe make him speechless for long enough that you can get away. If only those getaways could last forever, you sigh, pulling a fitted tee over your head. It’s low-cut, makes your cleavage pop just a little bit more, and you add a necklace for that exact reason.

You’re not the sex-crazed demon that the CSC most definitely are, but you do like a little attention every now and again even if you don’t get that much action. Or any, really, and you’re just fine with that. It’s one of the reasons why you don’t like the CSC. There’s no reason to sexify everything, and that’s exactly what they do. People can get by just fine without it.

Just fine? Seungmin would probably jab, but he’s not here right now and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are just fine, but the mention of the-site-that-must-not-be-named just fills your stomach with stones and ignites your nerves like nothing else does. To you, that’s more than enough proof that it’s the CSC’s fault— not yours.

Anyway, today is the day you have to see Hyunjin bright and early, which always manages to set your day off to a bad start. No one should have to deal with him at this time of day, or any time of day, and you pity the ones that do. Seeing Chan isn’t rare, but he doesn’t talk to you like Hyunjin does. He stares every now and again, gives you a lazy smirk, and is generally sexy as much as it pains you to admit it, but he doesn’t bother you. Though you know he probably talks about you. His stares are too knowing, way too insightful even when you don’t really know each other.

The rest of the boys you’ve talked to on a few occasions. They aren’t as insufferable, but they are associated with Hyunjin and Chan and are, in fact, involved in the upkeep of the-site-that-must-not-be-named. To you, that’s more than enough reason to at the least dislike them. You don’t hold soft spots for any of them, except maybe Felix who seems way too sweet to be a sex demon, but then again, it’s always the nice ones.

Besides, it doesn’t matter what they say to you or don’t say, or if they look at you or not, or if they even know you exist. It really doesn’t matter. You shake the thoughts from your head vigorously, ashamed at the fact that you spent the first hour of your morning on them. It’s unbecoming of you. It’s good to remind yourself not to actively concern yourself with any of them, and simply fight for the site’s demolition like you’ve been doing.

Seungmin says you have no life, but Seungmin also wears T-shirts with cartoonish, glittery pink boobs and the site’s name in glittery cursive letters. You don’t think Seungmin should have an opinion.

The last time you attempted to do anything about the site was roughly two months ago, a month after school started back. You took your time to settle in, fall into a routine, and get your work and classes in order before resuming your mission. It was arduous, brainstorming and juggling school work, but it was your responsibility since no one else would work hard enough.

A quick shuffle through any of your things would tell people you were a perfectionist— articulate in your placement of items and the way you did things. Even taking the time to plan certain outings to a T, determined to make sure everything goes well. It’s not a secret how obsessive you get over things and how uncomfortable or incomplete you feel when things don’t go your way, when you have to follow someone else’s idea of how things should work. It’s the reason why most people don’t get along with you because to them you’re too controlling, too compulsive and dominating.

When you were a child that fact had bothered you. It was confusing— that was just your nature, and you wouldn’t have survived your childhood without it based on the way your parents lived. When kids would shun you, treat you like something sticky at the bottom of their shoe, it hurt your young heart. You felt apologetic simply for acting the way you always felt like you should act, for doing the things that left you satisfied after. Now, in college, no one demands classmates to get along, no one can shun you in the cafeteria and force you to eat in the library. If they don’t like you it’s fine with you, frankly it doesn’t matter. You have one goal and one goal only, and once that’s over with you can move on.

When you step out of your dorm the sun is blinding, shining down with unforgiving rays of light. All you can do is squint, tilt your head down a little and wish you had a hat. The walk to the Art’s building is long, but feels longer with how warm it is. The heat shimmies its way under your clothes and into your skin, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

The scenery on the walk there is always breathtaking though, the pavement that makes up the pathway to the building is closed in by blades of grass that have been cut and trimmed to perfection. Rocks make up the border between them— large smooth stones that vary in size but are more or less the same oval shape. There’s an entire garden full of all types of flowers, Gardenias, Lilies, Irises, Tulips, and even some you can’t name. At the entrance of the building there are bright lights that illuminate at least 25 feet in front of it at night, and wide hedges that have been designed to look like swans, their necks curved in a way that if they were moved next to each other they’d be forming a heart. White flowers grow inside the hedges serving to make the entire scene look more beautiful, and as much as you hate walking there, the view is unmatched.

The Art building has always been your safe haven, Art in general being your home away from home. It took a long time for you to feel comfortable studying it— always caught up in the what if. What if you can’t make a living from it? What if you end up not liking it as you grow older? What if it’s not a sustainable career? Questions that still plague you often, and stop you from putting as much of your heart in it as you’d wish. These classes are somewhat self-indulgent. A way for you to escape from the hectic mess that is your life, away from the stress of work, from the anxiety of what comes next, and from the infuriating instances that continue without your control— away from the things you can’t control so you can run to things you can. So imagine your horror when you found out Hwang Hyunjin was in the same class as you. At the same time. Doing the same thing.

It felt like your escape wasn’t yours anymore, and that the stress from your day followed you everywhere you went. It wasn’t enough for Hyunjin to pester you often— he had to be everywhere you were too.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, setting your shoulders and regain the poise you take pride in– carrying yourself with the confidence you wish you had. It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the entrance of the building, as you walk, having been kissed by the scorching light of the sun and brushed against by dewy blades of grass. It feels surreal and staggering to be outside alone so early in the morning, yet peaceful, for you know that it will be long before you get this chance again.

“Bug!”

Oh no. no no no. You walk faster, hoping to make it inside before Hyunjin can catch up to you. Hyunjin is never this early. He either comes right on time or late to the frustration of your teachers and peers although no one would ever say it to his face. You can hear his feet against the pavement louder and louder as he comes closer to you, catching up just when you take the first step up the stairs to the entrance.

“You didn’t hear me, bug?”

“Stop calling me bug.”

“Sorry, bug,” Hyunjin laughs, putting a heavy arm over your shoulders and bringing you closer.

You roll your eyes so hard it feels like they’re gonna stick. Maybe they should so you don’t ever have to see Hyunjin again. Maybe he’d think you look scary like that, your eyes rolled up forever. Maybe then he’d leave you alone.

Hyunjin is annoying. He always acts like you’re his friend, but you know it’s fake because why would he want to be friends with you, someone who hates everything he works hard on and hates him as well to an extent. It seems overly fake and forced to you, so you don’t ever entertain it. The last thing you need is to fall for it and then be made out to look like an idiot when he eventually embarrasses you.

“It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early, pretty.”

“It’s always too early to be dealing with you,” You groan, wrenching his arm away from where it laid over your shoulders. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asks, seemingly unaffected by your attitude towards him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised up to his chin in a shrug. “I like talking to you.”

You snort, looking up at him with eyebrows raised, “You like talking to me, the one person— possibly in this world— who absolutely hates you, and barely spares you the time of day?” You ask, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’m sure this is the longest we’ve ever had a conversation, but nice try.” You squeeze his cheeks, hard, and when he swats your hand away you can’t help the giggle that you let out. If his cheeks felt like dough under your fingers you’re choosing to ignore that, wiping a hand on your jeans with way more intensity than needed.

“But see,” Hyunjin starts again, “We’re having a conversation right now and neither of us wanna choke each other.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m barely resisting the urge to punt your head like a baseball.”

It’s silent for a moment before you both burst out into a fit of giggles. Hyunjin braces himself against his knees as he laughs, his hair falling over his face as he does, and you’re not much better— staggering where you stand to laugh with him. It only takes a few seconds for you both to calm down, and slowly the reality of what happened catches up to you.

“Do you even punt baseballs?” Hyunjin snorts, and you just laugh harder.

“I don’t know, Hyunjin, if you haven’t noticed I’m at the arts building not sports.” You wheeze, fighting through another laugh. “Now I’m just imagining your head flying over the gardens.”

Hyunjin lets out another chuckle but shivers a bit at the thought. He waits for you to calm down, your giggles turning into small huffs. A hint of a smile still remains on your cheeks, and the sun shines down so strongly on your features it feels like he’s seeing an angel— like divinity right in front of his eyes. When you straighten up, he can see every movement. The way you position your bag upright, the way a bit of your gums poke out from your lips. Your lips, soft, glossy, and look the most perfect in a smile. He can see the way your eyebrows lose the tension from your laughing fit, the way the crinkle of your eyes lessen as your face relaxes. He can see everything, so he can also see when your lips fall back into a firm line, when your eyebrows go back to that angry stance they always hold when you’re around him. The way your shoulders stiffen, and the grip on your bag tightens. He can see everything, and he reminds himself the only time you laugh is when he’s the butt of the joke.

“I’m going to class,” You murmur, walking the rest of the way up the stairs and into the building without looking back or waiting for him to respond. Though Hyunjin wonders what he would’ve even said.

I’ll come with you.

We can sit together.

No, you both can’t do anything together, and more and more Hyunjin wonders why he even wants to.

“You were laughing with Hwang Hyunjin? The sex demon??” Your friend hisses from next to you, stringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You?”

“Yes, me, Jieun.” You huff. “I can barely believe it either. What did he do to me? I hate him, I can’t show weakness by laughing around him.”

“Honey,” Jieun laughs, leaning towards you, “You can laugh. Honestly the fact that you ran away after is hilarious.”

“I didn’t run away.”

“You ran away.”

“I didn’t run.”

Jieun settles on you with a heavy stare, face slack, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, I walked away.”

“I don’t know how either of you take each other seriously.”

“I don’t take him seriously.”

“Yeah you do, babe. You refuse to laugh around him. That’s very serious.”

You snort.

“And the fact that he gives you the time of day when this is the dumbest feud possible… I just don’t understand it.”

“It’s not dumb.” You sputter, smoothing your hand over the glossy wooden desk of the classroom. “It’s…” You trail off, staring into the large windows at the side of the room. You cock your head and lean forward, jaw slack when the sex demon himself waves outside. “Oh what a stalker.” You growl, throwing up the middle finger in his direction. “He’s got his little posse following him too.”

When Jieun makes to wave back you smack the back of her head and groan when she gives you an affronted look.

“What was that for?” Jieun exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of her head.

“Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” You hiss, folding your arms over your chest and staring back at your professor.

“Are you gonna explain the feud—”

“No.”

In your opinion, class doesn’t end quickly enough. You split with Jieun at the entrance, the both of you going in opposite directions, and attempt to reorder your frazzled mind. So you laughed. A lot of people laugh at people they hate. Plus, he laughed too— so why should you be overthinking it? You’ve laughed before, in situations you weren’t supposed to, and this is no different. Now you just need to make sure it never happens again. You nod to yourself as you walk, pulling out your phone to make sure Seungmin is already at the meeting spot.

The sun is still just as ruthless as it was earlier, but a light breeze grazes your skin and rustles the trees along the sidewalk and in the field in front of you. There’s a bunch of picnic tables, some occupied and some of them not. There’s groups of friends sitting under trees, some couples, some of them alone; reading or completing assignments in the nice weather. You spot Seungmin a few tables down, a brown sweater over a collared shirt and cute glasses perched upon his nose.

You take your time walking to the table, letting your skin soak in the warmth and tranquil peace of nature. When Seungmin spots you he shuffles over, giving you some space to sit next to him and you do, mumbling a small hey before knocking your head against the table.

“You’re going to a party with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Seungmin… Hi, how are you? How was your day? No, I’m not.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Well, unless you’re going to drag me, no I’m not.”

“I just might,” Seungmin sighs, “Why are you so difficult?”

“Difficult? You’re the one being difficult. I don’t want to go and you’re telling me it’s not a choice.”

“Because it’s not.”

You let out a groan, a long torturous one that has people turning their head to a straight faced Seungmin and you who’s head is still knocked against the table. When people think it’s stopped it starts all over again, a guttural groan filled with displeasure and frustration that loosens your chest when it’s done.

“Are you done?”

“Leave me alone.”

“It’s on Saturday. I can pick you up.” Seungmin says instead of arguing.

“Today’s Thursday.” You whine, just stopping yourself from letting out another groan— one that wouldn’t ever stop for as long as you have to deal with Kim Seungmin and his annoying, snarky, bossy self.

“…. I’m aware.” Seungmin says, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s making a face like and so what?

“I can’t stand you, I hope you know that. No type of warning, no preparation… I don’t party. I need at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself and another two weeks to get an outfit.”

“Damn.” Seungmin says, but he rubs a hand against your back, lightly pushing you to lift your head from the table. “Listen, I’ll help you. And it’s being thrown by people I know so you don’t have to worry. I don’t think many people throw college parties a month in advance but I’ll keep that in mind.”

All you can do is nod, waiting patiently as Seungmin finishes whatever assignment he’s working on. You’ve already completed the ones you have, the pro of not having much else to do and being on top of things always. Everyday you both meet up here, either at a table or under one of the trees and talk. Read, finish assignments, or even eat snacks. There have been some times where you meet there and then go somewhere else together, rarely off campus but it happens, and you get something to eat or go on a mini adventure. It’s the highlight of your day and you’re sure it is for Seungmin too, but you’d never admit that to each other. You don’t have to, though, because you’re both always on the same wavelength especially when it counts the most.

Though now he’s given you something else to worry about, that being this sudden party. It’s no doubt being held by a frat house, and you have an inkling which house it is. You haven’t asked, trying not to pop the bubble of secureness that surrounds you. You can go to a party being held by the CSC. You can, and you will, and if it isn’t being held by them then that’s even better. You try to convince yourself you really don’t care at all, but the thought remains. Can you really enjoy yourself at a party being held by them? You don’t know why it bothers you so much or why you feel so uncomfortable having a good time around them, but you just keep repeating the same thing to yourself over and over. It doesn’t matter.

“Jieun told me what happened this morning.”

“Of course she did.” You sigh, staring ahead at the group of squirrels running up a tree. The people under it startle when leaves start to fall over their heads. “We just left each other, how did she find the time to text you all that?”

“She called me,” Seungmin cackles, braces on full display as he scribbles furiously into his notebook. “Every story I hear about you and Hyunjin is against my will.”

“Every interaction between me and Hyunjin is against my will,” You counter, shifting so that you face him. “What did she say?”

“That you laughed with him and it embarrassed you. That you’re confused about your feelings towards him.”

“So are you two my therapists now? I’m not confused. I don’t like the things he does— I don’t like his carefree attitude, how he has no problem talking to me like we’re friends. I don’t like- No, I hate the fact that so many people fucking praise him because he created some crude porn site.”

Your heart rate picks up, your hand gripping at your jeans as a poor attempt to conceal your growing frustration. “I don’t like the fact that no one else sees what’s wrong with it. We shouldn’t have a fucking porn site for college students? I don’t think we should know what we all look like under our clothes and I’m tired of everyone acting like I'm the crazy one. He’s the perverted one, the weird one. Who the fuck thinks of something like that? It’s not just him, it’s all of them.”

Seungmin ponders your words, the grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly. “Hyunjin is a good guy. All of them are, and if that’s how you feel then why do you talk to me? I use the site, I'm their friend, I’ve helped them out when making it. Aren’t I weird and perverted too?”

You sigh, “Seungmin…”

“Help me understand. Because if you can stand to be around me, then why can’t you be around them? Or try.”

“It isn’t the same and you know it. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s you. That’s them. They are the CSC to me. A reminder of everything I hate, what I want to get rid of.”

“But why the hell does it matter? People want to use the site and that’s why they do. No one is fucking forcing it.”

“You guys just don’t understand it. None of you do. It’s like you’re blinded by it or something.”

“We’re grown adults, Y/N,” Seungmin growls, “We don’t need you to be a guardian fucking angel.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, just because all you fucking care about is sex or some college sluts, like can you actually be that shallow?”

“Why is it so hard for you to see reason? Do you see how angry you’re getting at me for asking a simple question? You asked me what Jieun said and I told you.” Seungmin spits, shutting his book with a slam.

“Stop asking me about that site. Stop making me seem like some confused hateful person just because you’re too dense to understand where I’m coming from. I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel. I try not to bring it up because you like the damn thing so much, and you can’t seem to hold the same courtesy for me.” You stand from the seat, settling a dark glare at Seungmin’s angered form.

“Fuck your friends, fuck that site. Stop talking about me like I need guidance.”

You’re not irrational. You’re not. You have every right to be angry. Seungmin is your friend. Jieun is your friend. They’re supposed to be there for you, not gang up on you. You feel alone, so alone in everything you fight for, in everything you aim to conquer— as if the things you stand for don’t matter. It reminds you of middle school all over again, of high school— having people look at you like you were something from another planet. Someone people had always failed to understand. It’s lonely. You’re not irrational.

You didn’t blow up. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated, yes, but you don’t blow up. You don’t get mad. You aren’t irrational. Anyone else in your position would feel the same, right? Anyone else would be upset because it feels like your friends always take the side of the people you despise more than anyone else. Why aren’t they on your side? Why don’t they believe you? Why don’t they understand? It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel like you have no right to feel the way you do. It’s lonely.

You’ve never been irrational. You’ve always had a good grip on your feelings. Always. And when it feels like the grip loosens it’s always the cause of something relating to the CSC. It’s proof that it’s what the root of your problems is. It’s proof that the CSC needs to be gone so you can finally go back to normal. So you don’t feel like the odd one out. So you don’t have to feel so upset. Because you’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way. You don’t get mad. You’re not angry. You don’t blow up.

You control everything, you control your actions, your emotions, and you make sure to hold control over your environment— of how things play out for every second of your life. This feels like it’s running out of control. That the CSC brings havoc in your life no matter what— even when you try to ignore it, it comes running back to fuck you over even further. You’re not irrational. You’re not confused. You don’t get mad. You don’t. You don’t blow up. You control everything.

The sun hides right when you need it. You pretend tears don’t blur your vision, you pretend that the suddenly gloomy environment doesn’t affect you the way it does. You pretend that the once comforting breeze doesn’t feel sharp against your exposed skin. You pretend because when things run out of control that’s all you can do. Pretend you’ve got it handled, pretend that you still have a grip on things, pretend that you understand. You’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way.

You never argue with Seungmin. Playful bickering from time to time or you two being rude to each other but always playfully. You’ve never cursed at him so maliciously, spoken to him like he was someone random, as if he wasn’t your best friend. You’ve never done those things— but you do when the CSC is involved. You never get pissed at Jieun, even when she’s annoying, even when she acts like the only thing important in life is the new boy she’s talking to— You don’t get mad. You’re not mad now, but you’re something. Something fiery, and everything always goes back to the CSC. You’re not irrational. You’re just the only one who understands.

Right when you see the blurry form of your dorm building it gets blocked by a large body and you slam right into its chest. You can barely see in front of you and you know your face is screwed up into the worst form imaginable, tears falling with no control. Without your control.

“Sorry, excuse me,” You laugh wetly, sidestepping whoever is blocking your way and running up the steps to your dorm. The sooner you fall into your bed and cry this out, the sooner you can forget about it. The sooner you can apologize and move past this weird limbo of feelings. It feels like purgatory, stuck in the in between, not sure which direction you’ll end up going in. It’s full of unsureness, of frustration. It feels like a loss of control. It angers you, makes you feel like nothing is going right.

But you don’t get angry. You’re not irrational. You don’t get mad. You pretend, because that’s all you can do.

Hyunjin is confused.

The last thing he expected to see this morning was you laughing, but now, he realizes the last thing he ever expected to see was you crying. Eyes glossy with tears, a nose rubbed raw, face screwed up into something pitiful.

Hyunjin doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t expect a lot of things, but most of all he doesn’t know how to continue after seeing it. He doesn’t expect to care so much, not after the way you’ve regarded him. After the way you’ve both regarded each other. He doesn’t know why he can’t walk away and say nothing when he knows he should. If he brings it up you’ll get defensive, be embarrassed, be angry. He shouldn’t say anything.

He keeps walking, frowning slightly at the gloomy clouds. It was so sunny less than an hour ago. Things change so quickly, it doesn’t make any sense. He thinks back to earlier that morning, the light that shone on your face with every laugh you let out. He thinks back to just a few seconds ago. How dark shadows fell over your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

The walk is more automatic than anything else. He doesn’t take the time to stare at the scenery, he doesn’t look at the people around him. He barely sees the ground in front of him as he walks, his mind not registering what’s right in front of his face. He’s too caught up in you. Like usual, wondering why you do the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, wanting to understand. What did he do? What can he do to make you feel better? How can he make you hate him any less? He wants to understand, he wants to listen, to talk to you, to be near you. It confuses him.

His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s chan, texting about the party on Saturday, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s so tired, tired of running around for parties, tired of attending to the site, tired of waking up early for classes. He just wants a second to sit down and relax, to not worry about you ruining the one thing he’s worked hard for, to not worry about what class he’s flunking, about what party he’s expected to attend, to not worry about why you were crying in the middle of the afternoon. He just wants a moment to collect his thoughts and free his mind.

HJ: I got it

BC: alr cool, put it in the cabinet with the lock, you know how Hyunjoon gets

HJ: Fuck, is it that bad?

BC: he’s an alcoholic bud, it’s that bad.

Hyunjin laughs a little, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He wonders if Seungmin told you about the party yet and grimaces, wondering if that’s the reason why you were crying. If it is, he’s not sure who needs to get a grip. You, for hating him so bad, or him for continuing to try and get you not to. It takes a lot of effort for him to continue the power walk back to the frat, but he arrives sooner than later, stuffing the bag of drinks inside the cabinet and locking it shut. He thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that they have to lock the alcohol up as if they have small kids running around, and also wonders the effectiveness when Hyunjoon lives in a frat house and is an adult who can buy his own alcohol.

It’s Thursday afternoon but he finds that he’s not as excited for a party as he should be. Usually, he’d be bouncing on his heels, counting down the hours for it to start, and realizing he’s so caught up in everything else going around he doesn’t feel that normal excitement that he so often does. He makes sure to fix that, shaking the unnecessary thoughts from his head, pushing responsibilities to later. He has a party to prepare for and he's gonna act like it.

The rest of the boys don’t get back till later— they’d given Hyunjin the responsibility of buying cups and drinks and shitty snacks while they went off somewhere else. Hyunjin can’t keep track of what they do especially if he’s not joining, so he focuses on doing what he’s supposed to in order to make this the best party of the year so far. His frat has always held the record of best parties— has always held their winnings in high regard as well, and he’ll be damned if he gets the cold shoulder if he’s the reason the party isn’t as good as it should be. Most of all, he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do during it.

Hyunjin is not shy on having sex— never has been, never will be, and more often than not he’s having it. Sure, that may be expected since he made a literal porn site, but Jisung also had a hand in it and he has a girlfriend. Felix doesn’t have one-night stands often, nor does Seungmin. It’s different for all of them.

He knows there’s a few girls that have been actively trying to get in his pants, knows that he’s been trying to get into theirs, but he can only hope he can focus on them for long enough to do so without thinking about you. If you come, he knows that there’s no chance he’ll think of anything else, and he’ll probably spend the entire night just getting you to laugh again. To get you to explain to him why. why why why. It’s confusing, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.

Thursday comes and goes too quickly, and Friday does as well. The day isn’t over yet, it’s only the afternoon, but the implications of that make you anxious. Make your nerves ignite far more than they should.

Seungmin didn’t answer your calls for the rest of that Thursday. Didn’t read or respond to a single text until you decided to leave him alone. Jieun called, but you didn’t answer. You think the way you felt towards her is the way Seungmin felt towards you. Maybe something worse, so you gave him space and took some for yourself, a moment to really think about what made you react the way you did. You don’t think you’re in the wrong, you still don’t think you could’ve reacted any other way and you’re not sure what that says about you.

You take another bite of your sandwich as you walk down the street from the Art store, your phone cradled in your other hand and a drink poking out from the opening in your bag. It’s hard to mentally prepare for things that you don’t know anything about. You don’t know where the party is, who’s hosting it, how long you’re expected to stay. Thought that’s if you’re even still going. You want to take Seungmin’s silence as an answer that no, you aren’t, but you also don’t want to assume that and then he shows up at your door and you’re not ready.

You don’t want to go, not at all, but if it made Seungmin happy then you would. If he didn’t come to pick you up you briefly entertained finding your own way to the party and cornering him, forcing him to hear your apology before leaving and soaking your pillow with tears. But you don’t know where the party is. You also briefly entertained the idea of calling Jieun and asking her, but you’re not interested in the lecture that would come from that. You still don’t appreciate her words about you to Seungmin and the implication of them. Seungmin is your friend, you can tell him what happened all by yourself. You don't need Jieun to play messenger.

You swallow the last of your lunch and throw the wrapper in the nearest trash can. You want to start a new painting, one that can unleash the frustrations of your life as it is right now, and you can only do that by getting some new supplies. You save up constantly for this exact reason— for the ability to buy whatever your heart desires whenever it desires it. You dip your toes into whatever interests you, and all concepts of Art satisfies you more than anything. Writing whatever you desire, taking pictures of the things you find beautiful, painting whatever you want— it gives you the control that fuels you more than anything else.

The art shop by your university is quaint, always quiet and never very full, yet always filled with high quality supplies and fully stocked. You’ve made friends with the old lady who owns it and her daughter, constantly going there just to buy something in order to catch up with them on whatever has happened since your last visit. They’re like the mother and sister you never had, people who feel more like family than your own. It’s partly for that reason that you’ve made the trek there, hoping to get some advice for the things you’ve been feeling before going to the party that’s undoubtedly being held by the one group of people you despise.

The bells above the door jingle when you step in, and you let the smell of paint, chalk, crayons, pens, and faint air freshener soothe you. It’s just as cluttered as it’s always been— stacks upon stacks of sketchbooks and canvases on one side situated next to the easels and small desks. The paints have a section of their own, oil, watercolor, acrylic, matte, and more— on the opposite side there’s pens and crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, and sharpeners of all shapes and sizes.

The walls are covered in paint as if before bringing in all the items they’d had fun splattering the walls in color. It’s messy, unruly, cluttered, and barely organized— so it doesn’t make sense to you why it comforts you so much. When you see a small form hobble out from behind a stack of books a smile forms unbiddenly on your face, and the small old lady smiles back.

“I missed you, dear,” She scolds, wrapping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit.”

“I know, I’ve just been busy Ms. Yang. I missed you.” You sigh, rubbing your nose in the soft fabric of her sweater. She smells like paint and flowers— she smells like home.

“Sam will be here soon, she’d love to see you.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I need to talk to her too.”

“I can tell, child. You look stressed.” She sighs, shuffling behind the counter and sitting on one of the other seats behind it. “Get what you’re looking for,” She says waving a hand dismissively towards you.” I won’t make you explain it twice.”

You huff lightheartedly, making your way over to the canvases and picking one of medium proportions. You’re still not sure what it is you want to paint, but you know whatever you’re feeling is strong enough that you grab Oil paint, needing something rich and vibrant and something sharper to contrast the muddled and cloudy image of your mind.

It’s before long that you settle on a brand you normally buy, and the set of bells signal someone’s arrival into the shop. You turn your head, expecting to see Sam and her long curly hair, beautiful in its volume and her tawny brown skin, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of straight brown hair, swept behind the ears of a tall man, a mole under his eye and the reason for all your problems. You don’t know why you react the way you do, but with your items cradled in your hand you sprint behind a large stack of sketchbooks and hold your breath, staring with wide eyes at the cans of paint at your feet.

What the fuck is Hwang Hyunjin doing at your shop? This is your safe place— your safe haven. A part of you curses the ground he walks on, hopes that the store is too messy and cluttered for his liking, prays that he proves he’s as shallow as the company he keeps and that he leaves and doesn’t come back. Another part of you hates yourself for being so ridiculous. For letting your personal feelings about him delve so far that you’d think something like that. Sam and Mrs.Yang deserve the business, deserve the money, deserve the customers. You shouldn’t hope for anything different— but it still amazes you how he never fails to intrude on the things you hold dear. To intrude on the things you want to keep to yourself.

You don’t move from the spot you’re in. It could’ve been ten minutes, an hour, even, or maybe it was only thirty seconds, but you only peek out when you hear Sam’s voice ring through the shop. You survey the room, stepping out from your hiding spot when you confirm that Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. Though, you don’t think you could’ve hid regardless by the way Sam calls your name.

“Hi, Sammy,” You smile, coming up to pull her into a hug. She grips you tightly, her kinky hair tickling your cheek and her clothes smelling faintly of vanilla and roses. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hun,” Sam smiles, albeit a little sadly as she looks over your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, don’t leave a poor old lady out,” Mrs. Yang huffs, “Come over here and tell us both about it.”

Without even saying anything they’ve already cheered you up, your steps feeling lighter as you make your way behind the counter and sit on one of the three seats. You sit between them both, their eyes set patiently but concerningly on you.

“I don’t know, really,” You start, and then, you tell them. About your argument with Seungmin, about how lonely it is feeling like you’re the only one feeling this way, about how much the site angers you— how it makes you feel. You tell them about Hyunjin, about how he doesn’t stop bothering you no matter how much you make it obvious you don’t want his company. How much that frustrates you, as well, and about how the lack of control over the entire situation, and over the CSC’s place in your life makes you uncomfortable, and about how the CSC itself makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and how much that scares you. You can barely describe the way it does, and who else can you blame besides its creators.

When you’re done it feels like you’ve vented a lifelong event, it makes a heavy weight lift itself off your shoulders and the heavy silence that remains doesn’t feel like judging, but rather them trying to understand— soaking up the meaning of every word you said in an attempt to place themselves in your shoes.

“I think,” Sam starts, “That your cluelessness about your feelings towards the site in general turns into anger, and the fact that the boy,”

“Hyunjin”, You offer.

“Yes, I think his attempts at speaking to you only worsen it somehow, like you’re being cornered by this weird feeling that you don’t understand and it makes you even angrier.”

“You said your friend is a part of it?” Mrs.Yang interjects, a wrinkly hand kneading your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s good friends with the group and he loves the website.”

“That probably doesn’t help then,” She continues, “If you’re surrounded by people who know what they like or enjoy something you don’t like or don’t understand, of course you’re going to feel angry. You feel like the odd one out.”

“I think more than anything you need to figure out if it’s really anger you’re feeling, and if the only reason why you hate this website is not because of its purpose but because of your lack of control over it.” Sam finishes.

“I can’t say I agree with it either,” Mrs.Yang grunts, “It’s not something I think college students need to be worrying about. Things like that stick with you, but it’s their choice to indulge in it, Y/n, you can’t control that.”

You sigh. You guess so, but you still feel like you need to get rid of it. You’ve been slacking, not paying attention to it as much as you should because of all the chaos it’s creating. It’s been a while since you’ve done a petition or made a list of ideas as an attempt to shut it down, but for now it seems like enough to just hate it. They can’t change your mind. Not Seungmin, not Sam, not Jieun, not Mrs.Yang, not Chan or Changbin or Minho— not any of them, and especially not Hyunjin. You just want to be hateful in peace and you don’t know why you don’t seem to be allowed to do that.

You leave the shop feeling lighter, but also like you didn’t actually get any good advice. Sure they validated your feelings, but that’s it. You’ve been trying to figure out your feelings. You know why you’re frustrated, and even though it felt good to be validated it also felt like a waste. You hold the bag of art supplies closer to you as you walk. The sun is setting, painting the sky reds, and oranges, and purples— and you think maybe you’ll paint that. To represent the end of the turmoil that surrounds you, as something hopeful.

You relish in the soft slope of your shoulders, in the relaxation you so rarely feel nowadays, and walk briskly to your dorm so you can fall into your bed and try to forget about the fact that there’s a party you’re supposed to be at tomorrow.

And as if the thought brought it on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out quicker than you’d ever admit and a relieved smile pulls on your lips when you see it’s from Seungmin.

pup: be ready by 9

you: ok!!!!!

you: i miss you

There’s no more responses but you don’t let that dampen your mood. He still wants you to go with him and that says enough. You do feel terrible about the way you acted— the way you’ve been acting— but you know it’s justified. You’re not irrational. Not at all.

If you collapse at the foot of your bed, art supplies sitting on the floor by your feet, and a paper by your head titled #686, no one has to know.

This Saturday has not been a day of relaxation for you. You didn’t have any plans, though instead of enjoying the peace you so rarely received, the day consisted of you running around your room with a frazzled energy following behind like a ghost. At first you contemplated showing up in a sweater and jeans; no makeup, no jewelry, just you and a lazy fit— but realized that would only bring you even more stares than if you dressed as slutily as possible.

It’s with a black leather mini skirt and a black, lacy, low cut long sleeve tucked inside that you finally allow yourself to relax. You’re probably dressed way too flashily for a college party, but you can’t entertain any thoughts like that or you’ll spend the next three hours obsessing over it— and that’s three hours that you don’t have. Knee length boots stare at you from the door and it’s with a sigh that you walk to the door and put them on.

There’s more reasons to be nervous than just the party, between the inevitable walk with Seungmin to the encounter you’re most definitely going to have with the CSC and all of its users, you’re out of your element. There’s not enough deep breaths to make you calm down, there’s no method available to help clear your mind. Your heart races much more than should be healthy. It feels like hell, even, and all you can do is let this plethora of nerves run its course.

When your phone buzzes with Seungmin’s ‘I’m outside’ text, it almost feels like your heart stops. Fuck, Seungmin’s gonna ask who you’re all dressed up for, gonna ask why you’re so nervous. Why are you all dressed up? Why are you even going? It’s too much, too much of not knowing, not understanding, not feeling right. What will it take to get you to feel right? Like in freshman year when your biggest worry was whether or not you were passing your classes, now it feels like that's a lifetime ago. Like you’ve encountered way too much to even consider anything like that— not that you need to worry about it anyway. It was supposed to be a carefree year for you. You’re always on top of your responsibilities, always prepared, and nothing ever changed that until you went on that site for the first and last time.

You stop, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath that’s otherwise pointless, and step out the door. You curse the day you ever went on that website. It’s why everything is all messed up now, but you rid those thoughts from your mind. You’re determined to have fun tonight no matter what, and no matter who’s there.

Seungmin waits at the door, A button-down hanging off his shoulders and jeans. His hair is combed back and he’s ditched the glasses.

“Hey.” It comes out meeker than you’d like, a little too timid for what your relationship with Seungmin is.

“Hey,” he smiles, the braces you love so much on full display. Your best friend is beautiful, and it’s with a pang to your chest, it’s with seeing him now— so welcoming and so normal with you— that a small part of you realizes maybe you have been being irrational. Maybe you have been acting too strongly, but then you remind yourself that you’ve never been irrational. Never.

“So I’m guessing we’re going to the CSC’s dorm?”

“You’ll fit right in,” Seungmin laughs, starting to walk. You struggle to catch up to him; it’s been so long since you last wore heels that it’s hard to get used to. You don’t grace his comment with an answer, simply relishing in the soft nightly breeze and the shine of the moon. The stars glitter from above you, light years away yet so visible. So sure of their stance in life. You don’t think stars blow up at their best friends, or feel confused, or feel lonely.

You arrive at the party all too soon. From a block away you could see people drunk, staggering in the same direction, and from down the street you could hear the bass of the music, but the warning signs weren’t nearly enough to prepare you for the actual sight of it. It’s like the typical house parties you’d see on TV, but louder and more nerve-wracking. People hang out in front, the music loud enough for them to enjoy even from outside the building. Lights flash from behind the window, an array of purples, greens, reds, and blues. You can see people's shadows from behind the curtains over the front windows, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

“Oh god,” You mumble, taking a few shaky steps inside. You can't do this. You’re gonna freak out and embarrass yourself. You can almost feel the anxiety seeping from your pores, and the word no repeats over and over in your head like a mantra.

No no no no no.

You can’t do this, but you do it anyway. Stepping inside the party is a feat in itself, and you can’t tell if your hands are shaking from the strong bass of the music or because of pure anxiety. The music knocks into your body so strongly that your knees buckle, barely able to hold you upright. At any moment you feel like you might collapse.

You can’t do it but you do it anyway, taking one step and then another, and when the door closes behind you, you resist the urge to turn back and run away. The party is full of people— so full that it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone, and despite your best efforts you do get stares. Whether it’s because of what you’re wearing or if it’s because it’s you at a party being held by the CSC… you’re not entirely sure. You don’t think it makes a difference. You try to ignore it, act unbothered, and it must work because after a while they look away, murmuring something or the other about what you’re doing there.

Seungmin drags you away from the door and to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets like it’s his home. You take in the somewhat chill vibe of the kitchen compared to everywhere else. It’s not nearly as full, but there are couples at opposite ends acting as if it isn’t a place where food is kept.

You take a few deep breaths, reassure yourself that you can do this, and even if you can’t you’ll do it anyway. Seungmin doesn’t say anything, just pours you something sweet and fruity in a red cup and hands it over with a raise of his eyebrows. You drink it way too quickly and you know you’re gonna regret it later, but you need the effect it’ll bring. The faux calmness that’ll help you get through the night. Though with how full the party is you think that you won’t be able to see the hosts anytime soon if at all, and that’s enough to bring your heart to a stuttering stop before it resumes its beating in a much more slow paced manner. You’re still not calm, but you’re doing your best.

“Try to relax,” Seungmin chides, his gaze heavy where it bores into you. “Everything will be just fine.”

You nod, taking a more calculated sip of your drink this time. You let the music relax you instead of startle you— focusing on the beats and the melody— on the lyrics, instead of the volume and how it makes your body tremble. You can do this.

When you finally feel like you’re able to relax, Seungmin parts from you, saying there’s some people he has to see. You’re an adult, so you can handle being alone for a few minutes. Eventually, though, the few minutes turn into something longer. You wonder if maybe Seungmin is still upset with you— you didn’t speak much about it on the walk like you thought you would. Honestly, it was mostly silence, and you didn’t think much of it before but you are now. You hold your drink close to your chest, dubbing it your life line for the night.

You last all of thirty minutes before you feel like you’re getting too hot— the building only gets even more stuffy as more people arrive, all of you packaged like a can of sardines. You take the fleeting burst of confidence to leave the kitchen and go to the backyard, hoping that it’ll be a bit more peaceful (as peaceful as possible considering the music blasting), and allow the fresh air to graze your skin like a soft blanket. You sit down on one of the benches in the backyard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. What will it take to feel at peace? Maybe there’s nothing you can do. And it’s with these thoughts that you do exactly what you shouldn’t do at a party, wallowing in self pity and confusion. You’re so caught up in these thoughts that you don’t notice when someone else joins you.

“Hey, bug.”

Your head whips up faster than what’s comfortable, and you barely hide the wince that struggles to leave your lips. Hyunjin speaks again before you can respond.

“Don’t leave, alright. Please?” He asks, sitting down beside you and smoothing his hands over his pants. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“About us? About you? I’m tired of running in circles and I want to know why you hate me— the CSC so much.”

You’re silent for a moment, contemplating, thinking. You should get up, leave the backyard and this party altogether. You should ignore whatever it is Hyunjin has to say because he’s the reason for all this, right? Why is he always pretending he doesn’t know; acting like he wants to get to know you? Acting like it really matters how you feel. Everyone wants to understand, everyone wants to know why, but you don’t even know— but you’ll never admit it outright. You’ll never say the one thing that’s been your driven principle for the past year is something you’re unsure about. All you know is that it’s bad, that it’s made you feel ways that were foreign to you, and in order to regain control you need to get rid of it. No matter how anyone else feels about it, no matter who gets upset with you along the way. You need to do it.

Your voice is soft, but not meek. For once, you’re gonna get this entire experience off your chest. “When I first went on the site in the beginning of freshman year I was curious,” You start, glancing at Hyunjin and feeling the tightness in your chest return when you realize he’s already looking at you. “At first, I was curious, and then I was confused. I clicked on a few videos— I scrolled for a while— and I started to get this weird feeling. The more I watched the videos, the more I scrolled through pictures and posts, the feeling got stronger.”

You feel so stupid, but you continue. If Hyunjin makes fun of you he’s just proving your assumptions correct. “I’d never felt that way before and honestly, it kinda scared me, and it was annoying that I didn’t understand it. I didn’t do anything after that. I ignored how fast my heart was beating, how my body was reacting, and never went on that site again. Slowly, that confusion turned into anger— it’s not normal. The way I felt wasn’t normal, and that’s why I think that site needs to get shut down.”

“Bug…” Hyunjin laughs a little and you want to be offended, but you can tell it’s more shock than amusement. “Bug have you ever had sex? Or.. touched yourself at all?”

Your mouth opens and closes comically, but Hyunjin is patient, waiting and watching carefully for you to speak. “Is that what’s important?” You finally say, your eyebrows furrowed and you’re ready to defend yourself if need be. “No, I haven’t.”

“God, bug this is…” Hyunjin squints at you, “I think you were aroused.”

You splutter, feeling your heart rate spike in embarrassment. “What!? No. No.”

“That weird feeling? That heat in your gut,” Hyunjin says, and to punctuate he lays a large, warm, hand over your stomach. “You were horny.” This time, Hyunjin’s laugh is one of amusement, but you're too distracted by how big his hand is, splayed over your stomach and so warm it feels like it’s burning through your clothes.

“Hyunjin, the feeling— no, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Bug, if you’ve never ever been aroused before somehow, of course it felt weird. Holy shit.”

You don’t say anything, but Hyunjin continues before you can get a grip on your thoughts.

“I can’t believe this is the reason why you’ve hated us for so long, I honestly can’t believe it.”

“Hyunjin… that feeling wasn’t pleasurable. Control is pleasurable. I didn’t have a grip on anything that day and barely regained it on the days following. You can’t convince me that getting rid of the CSC won’t bring back a sense of normalcy. You can’t, and even if you’re right, I think that morally, the site is still wrong, and I’m not going to stop trying to shut it down.”

“There’s so much about the CSC you don’t know about, and there’s so much more to pleasure than control.” Hyunjin sighs, clearly more at ease now that he realizes you’re just confused. You don’t know, really, why you hate them. That’s clear. You’re stubborn though, he can tell, and even if this idea he has works— he’s not sure you’ll stop until you get what you want.

Earlier that day the CSC received an email from the dean, threatening that they’ll start looking into all that their site entails because of how often you keep badgering them about it. It’s starting to create a murmur between staff, and they’re growing increasingly frustrated. All that means to Hyunjin is you’re finally breaking through their resolve, running them down enough for them to consider shutting it down or supervising more intensely. Hyunjin can’t have that. None of them can. When Hyunjin approached you tonight he expected to have to beg— to have to plead with you to stop meddling. The site is bigger than you know, more important than some college stupidity. It rakes in a lot of cash, and he can’t have such petty reasoning stop that flow.

Hyunjin’s voice is husky as he continues and his words send an undeniable shiver down your spine “I can show you that the site, and sex by association aren’t bad at all. Mentally, you’re confused and physically, you’re pent up. We can’t have that can we, pretty girl?”

“No, we can’t.”

Wait. What? Yes, we can. Yes you can. You’ve been doing just fine right? You don’t need Hyunjin’s help. He’s not gonna change your mind because your mind doesn’t need changing.

“You can try to shut us down, but at the same time let us help you.”

“Us?” You murmur, attempting to understand what exactly is happening.

“All of us, the CSC can help you figure out what you’re feeling, right? We can help you decide what to do.”

“…You can help me?”

Hyunjin hums, removing his hand from your waist and trailing his finger along the skin just above the hem of your shirt. His fingers dip over your cleavage, tug at your necklace, up and up until your chin is in his hand, and he turns you to face him as his lips brush your cheek. “I want to see who will succeed first, so let me show you that there’s more to pleasure than control.”

He can help you. Out of all the people who ask you why, who say they want to understand but don’t try, he’s the one who’s offering a solution. As annoying as he’s always been to you, as much as he’s always embodied something you hate— the person who’s embedded such foreign feelings in your mind— he wants to help you. He wants to try, and he’s not telling you to stop your goal either. He’s not telling you it’s stupid, he’s not getting angry. He doesn’t make you feel irrational. You’re not irrational. You have a goal and it’s one you’re gonna complete, but… it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And if you succeed, if you shut them down and Hyunjin fails— if the CSC fails you’ll win. You’ll win and prove that you were right all along.

“Go easy on me.”

“Of course, bug.”

You keep your eyes downcast in embarrassment as Hyunjin whispers against your skin, his fingers gently turning your chin up and over to the point of focus. His lips. Pouty, sinfully crimson, curving upwards so surely, like they themselves know their effect on people. They look so soft, so wet. You want to feel them, and it’s as if Hyunjin’s read your mind because his lips are on yours before you can even blink.

“You just kissed me,” Your voice is airy, breathless, and usually you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I do it again?”

There’s a simmering, boiling tension both of you have been ignoring but you’ve lost the will to care about hating Hyunjin or Chan or the CSC. Momentarily, you’ve lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion you feel. You’re sick of it, sick of feeling confused. Last night you’d dealt with it by crying your eyes out, before that you’d dealt with it by having a screaming match with your best friend, and now you’re ready to look for something to fix it. This just might be the best way to start.

“Not outside.” You whisper, your hands clutching the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt with such an intensity you’re afraid it’ll rip off then and there.

The trip inside and upstairs is a blur. You’re sure if anyone saw you they stared, wondering what you two were doing together, wondering what you were going upstairs for. It’s a blur, nothing is clear but what you’re going to do at this moment, and with Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Of what you’re going to do in the future, with the CSC of all people, what you’re gonna do to them— what you’re gonna allow them to do to you— that’s the only thing on the forefront of your mind. Not about who’s watching, not about who wants to know. It’s about you. You’re the one in control, you’re the one who gets to decide. You’re the one who needs to know.

Warm. You feel warm all over, pressed against Hyunjin with his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands are clutching at his clothes, at his arms— It’s so hot, yet somehow the constant cool air of the room makes you shiver.

“W-what do I do?”

Hyunjin chuckles, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to do anything, pretty. Let me handle it.”

Letting Hyunjin handle anything doesn’t sound like a very good idea to you in any instance, but in this case you let him. You’re otherwise clueless in this area and frankly, if you want his help you’re going to have to accept it when it’s given. His mouth lands back on yours, a certain kind of desire running through the kiss. His hands are all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he can, and you try your best to kiss him back with equal intensity— to move your lips against his with the same fervor.

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when Hyunjin slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold. And if Hyunjin had imagined this during late nights, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he dreamt of you pushing your panties to the side for him to enter your tight hole, no one has to know.

“Look at me, pretty,” Hyunjin growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with a foreign intensity. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a small burst of confidence, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for another kiss. It’s a little awkward with your inexperience, all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. His lips feel like heaven and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. You want to sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of him on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," Hyunjin teases, pressing your thighs farther apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again. "I don’t think you really hate me, bug.”

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your skirt, slipping under the hem and holding the fabric tightly. God, you feel so bare. Like Hyunjin is looking at you from the inside out. When he pulls your skirt down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, his warmth. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Hyunjin lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold. You’re so sensitive. So, so sensitive.

His hands grip your waist tightly and his lips trail upwards, the bridge of his nose pushing your shirt up until it’s so high your breasts threaten to fall, smothering Hyunjin’s face underneath them. You shiver at the thought, those sinful lips pressing kisses against the skin of your breasts; what would it feel like? Would it feel like this? This feeling that you’re still so unfamiliar with?

"Pretty girls deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Hyunjin starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. You didn’t know you could make sounds like that. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Did you come to impress someone tonight?” Hyunjin murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Hyunjin’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

“You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

“Yes.”

It’s breathless. It’s not you. It’s not the person who wanted nothing to do with Hyunjin only a day ago, but you want answers. You want clarity. And right now, you want this.

Hyunjin wastes no time after your confirmation, his fingers slipping under your panties and ghosting over your skin. He lets out a harsh breath at the feeling where you’re otherwise silent, trusting that he knows what to do. When a rush of cool air blows over you though, your legs close instinctively, and Hyunjin hums, “Stay with me, bug.”

“I’m here,” You respond, slowly spreading your legs back wide and allowing him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off ur ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to cradle your cheek you lean into the warmth. It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you for the first time.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect Hyunjin— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to help you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

The man before you reaches his other hand towards the hem of your top to pinch the edge of it between an index finger and thumb, and pulls the cloth away from your skin.

His eyes bore into yours: “This okay?”

“Fuck, the more you ask me the more nervous I get.”

“Okay, okay. I don’t wanna make you nervous.”

“Just… be nice to me, Hyunjin. Okay?”

Hyunjin smiles, and you exhale, relaxing into Hyunjin’s sheets and letting his musky cologne consume your senses as his touch roams everywhere else.

And then finally— yet all too quickly— the shirt is tugged away from your breasts and they fall freely as Hyunjin eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch his pupils dilate quicker than you thought was possible. He’s barely holding back the urge to fuck you dumb, and the finger that still thrusts slowly into your cunt stutters in its movements.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, god, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Hyunjin’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, holding your breast in his large hand and rubbing over your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moan, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groans, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He wanted to do this right— show you all that pleasure could be. He moved his mouth from your nipple to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Oh- oh Hyunjin help me, please,” You pleaded, his shoulders too far to grip onto; your hands instead finding his hair, running your fingers through and pulling when he nosed at your clit, groaning heartily when your wetness clinged to his skin.

It’s with a lick to your clit that you wail, your thighs threatening to close, and they would have if Hyunjin’s hands hadn’t reached out to force them down, pushing further and sticking his face into your arousal with more fervor, licking and sucking with such vigor that it felt as if he was trying to devour you. Your thighs trembled with every movement of his tongue, poking and prodding at every inch of your cunt, his nose dug against your clit and for a moment it felt like you were seeing stars. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.

You didn’t think it’d feel this good. But, you remind yourself, control feels better. You can’t let him change that— he won’t change that.

The obscene sounds that came from his actions should’ve embarrassed you, but nothing like that came to mind. Hyunjin was relentless, and you couldn’t even think of anything more than the feeling of his hair between your fingers and his tongue slurping at your cunt.

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

Besides control, of course. And you assume, the eradication of the CSC would, also.

Suddenly, your stomach tenses, your body locking up, and you quickly cream all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty lips. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from this feeling. Afterwards, Hyunjin’s actions felt too harsh. He didn’t change pace at all, but it felt like your body was going to arch its way into oblivion. Unable to ignore the sensitivity of your body any longer, you pushed against his head until he stopped, attempting to catch your breath.

“You okay?”

You hum, begging the beating of your heart to soften, though as soon as it finally did you looked back at Hyunjin and saw his pants sliding down his legs. His toned, muscular legs, and it started its harsh beating once again. That wasn’t it? Of course, that’s wasn’t it, but fuck. You don’t know if you can handle anything more.

The headboard of his bed knocks against the wall as he climbs back up on the bed, moving his body closer this time and instead of only his chest hovering over you, this time his legs cage you in, one on either side, as your heart pounds itself into oblivion.

One hand supported his weight on the pillow by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever Hyunjin would come bother you. It intensifies when Hyunjin wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging the bedding from under you and you yelp.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your twitching folds, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you.

“Relax,” Hyunjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Stay with me.”

You do your best, forcing your body to relax, as he sinks deeper and deeper still. Hyunjin grunts softly when you clench down on him, and he sighs as you blink dazedly up at him.

Pretty eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Hyunjin watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his sweat slicken forehead, and he sinks back into your slick walls with another languid roll of his hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight, baby.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Hyunjin’s chest expands with a shaky breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your virgin cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper than his playful one. Tonight you’re seeing a whole new side of him— a new persona. This isn’t the annoying Hwang Hyunjin who bothers you and calls you ‘bug’, this is the Hwang Hyunjin everyone else knows. The one you hadn’t met yet.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the sheets.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Hyunjin moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, baby,” He pleads, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and Hyunjin’s groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all Hyunjin. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And again, you feel that strange feeling before tensing up, your body convulsing and arching up as Hyunjin’s thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the mattress and Hyunjin’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when Hyunjin gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwater back on. You hear it when he sighs, something light and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. You can’t do much more than sigh, but it seems like enough for him— like that was the exact answer he was looking for. You succumb to blissful sleep right before the door shuts behind Hyunjin.

“Hear me out,” Hyunjin sighs, a lazy smile on his features even still. You’re no joke even if you might not know it yet. “I think it could really work.”

“You want us to convince Y/n to what? Leave us alone or..?” Jeongin says, leaning against the table in the kitchen.

The party has long been over, there’s a mess everywhere but it’s empty except for the eight boys and you knocked out in Hyunjin’s bed. Jisung sits sprawled on the couch, head twisted ever so slightly to betray that he’s listening to the conversation, Jeongin leans against the table and Chan has his arms folded where he leans against the wall serving as the entrance between the kitchen and the living room.

Minho downs a bottle of water by the sink, and Changbin leans against the fridge, leveling Hyunjin with an intense look. Felix and Seungmin sit on the couch opposite Jisung where they have a full view of everything and everyone.

“She barely even knows what porn is, so I said I could convince her the site isn’t that bad— and is something she could grow to like, if not love.” Hyunjin explains, his eyebrows raising in wait for the retaliation that’s sure to come.

“Why should we?” Minho asks, with a swallow, “If she doesn’t like it, honestly what does it matter.” Heads nod in agreement.

“Listen, they’re starting to consider whatever the fuck she’s selling them at those little meetings, and I got an email about investigation if this keeps up. If we fail to change her mind, we can at least distract her enough for the heat to lessen a little.”

Chan nods, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He shrugs, looking over at everyone in the kitchen. “We change her mind, then we got one less problem to deal with.”

“And if we don't?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at both Hyunjin and Chan. “And if this is just a waste of time?”

“It isn’t,” Hyunjin assures, “Trust me.”

The rest of them don’t argue, but Hyunjin feels Seungmin’s gaze boring into him from the couch, feels his questions burning at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, so he leaves before they can succeed.

“We can talk about it more later, but I think it’ll work. It’s a good deed, and I know how much you guys love those.” Some scoffs and laughs fill the room, but Hyunjin is already halfway up the stairs, a plan forming in his mind and a pleasant smile growing on his face.

a note from iris: this chapter was late because of that long ass smut scene so i hope it was enjoyable and that this wasn’t 17k worth of a snoozefest 😭 i’m sorry it’s late!! so sorry but it’s still friday even if it’s 11 pm <3<3 not beta read not nothin so pls.. spare me.. and i hope you liked it !!!

not-so-mini taglist (there’s so many of y’all !!???): @chrisbahng @seonghwatoothless @bubblelixie @199719932000 @imsuchasimp00 @hyu-hl @oddinaryfelix @raspbinniecreme @fa3body @kittykatkrissa @andreaswrld @hattorihaechan @lachinitaaaaa @j-0ne25 @bangchanbabygirlx @ni-sh @green-orangeade @sincerely-skz @exclusivej3ss @elizalabs3 @lili-kims-blog @curiousgworge @midsoulz @sawadabegum @reighlee-greaves @lotus-dly @blcar @impossiblewritingrebel @yourhwngness @idek-at-this-point-lol @multihoe-net @hyun-bun @hwan-g @ughbehavior @rindomo @awesomelycoolworld @springdeity @todolyn @meowminhosblog @hyunelixies @emotionalwreckkk-blog @seungschacco @avyskai @cvfechan @jeyelleohe @vvsmydiamonds127 @chriscentric @simpforpunzngl @be-a-spacequeen @svintsandghosts @myjisung @hanjiesgf

*** if your tag didn’t work make sure your blog is visible! if i somehow missed you when tagging i offer a sincere apology <3

#hyunjin scenarios #skz smut #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x female reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #skz x reader

[kiwicopia]

🔞 MDNI | Kinktober: Handjob 🔞

🎃 Gojo x Fem!Reader 🎃

TW: Use of spit, cum tasting, reader being a tease, sneaky exhibitionism, pent up Gojo, risqué scene in a restaurant, use of a pet name (baby).

tags: @sweetchildcloud @stygianoir @shes-so-insane @uzxotic

Azure eyes glared at you from across the table, but all you did was smile oh so sweetly in response. Your boyfriend was displeased, to say the least, at your behavior tonight. He was usually the one doing the teasing, the one flirting so shamelessly with you in front of other people and making you aroused, but it seemed as though the roles were reversed tonight. He didn’t like it at all, especially since it left him with an annoying tent in his pants.

“It’s not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it Satoru?” Your lips curled into a teasing smirk as you stared at the pout on his face. Your leg purposely moved against him underneath the table, your ankle brushing against his, and it only added more fuel to the fire that grew within him. 

Satoru felt the way his cock twitched in his pants, his arousal having increased further from your little teasing action. He shifted in his seat and crossed his left leg over his right to stave off the feeling of how uncomfortable his erection was. “Shut up,” he grumbled. You chuckled at him, which only made him pout even more. “At least when I do it, I still help you out.” 

“Oh? You want me to help you?” You asked. The man angled his head down slightly, allowing his sunglasses to slide down just enough to give you a knowing stare. “If you want me to help you, then beg for it. You have me beg all the time, so now it’s your turn.” 

The man’s face scrunched up at your words. He was almost appalled that you would turn it around on him like this, but he couldn’t deny that it was hot. “Fine. Can I please have some help?” 

“I don’t know,” you snickered, “can you?” 

Satoru muttered under his breath before glancing around. The other patrons were far too engrossed at their own tables with their own conversations to spare the two of you a look. He then looked back at you before asking in a whisper, “May I please have some help?” 

The sorcerer watched as you got out of your seat and slid in the one beside him. He was grateful for the hostess seating you both at a booth in the dimly lit part of the little restaurant, because he didn’t want anyone to witness what you were about to do. Normally he wouldn’t care if it was him doing the teasing, but he wasn’t and therefore didn’t want an audience. Satoru let out a soft and quiet groan when your hand brushed against his bulge as you palmed him. It wasn’t enough, though. 

“I need you to touch me,” he said, “please.” His hands fumbled to unfasten his belt before he unzipped his pants, and you watched as his cock sprang up. The tip was an angry red with his precum leaking out in anticipation. You glanced around the restaurant before hearing your boyfriend speak. “No one’s watching.” 

Your eyes met his as your hand stroked up his length, causing him to let out a quiet moan before leaning his head back. Your thumb moved over his cockhead, smearing his precum as you continued to slowly pump him. His hips shifted, lifting slightly to try and buck himself into your hand. You moved too slowly for his tastes, and he wanted sweet relief now. 

“Faster,” he mumbled, keeping his voice low enough to not be heard by other patrons and employees that walked by. You complied, your hand moving at a faster pace for a moment before you suddenly stopped. Satoru was ready to whine at the sudden disappearance of pleasure when he saw you spit in your hand before you went back to stroking his dick again. Your spit was the perfect lubricant, allowing your hand to pump him faster and faster, causing him to let out a few shaky breaths. If it weren’t for you both being here at a restaurant, he would have already made noise. A lot of noise. 

Satoru struggled to stay quiet, and you knew that with the way he bit his bottom lip and how his body clenched every time your hand slid itself down his length. Being a little brat, you decided to give him a soft squeeze as you stroked him. His hips sputtered slightly, ceasing their gentle bucking motion as pleasure shot up his body. He gripped the edge of the table, lips parted as he breathed out in soft huffs. 

It wasn’t often that Satoru would unravel in such submission, least of all in a public space, but you had to admit that it felt nice to have just a little bit of power over him in such a way. Even if it was just for this moment. Your hand squeezed him yet again, earning a muffled groan from the man. “Fuck,” he breathed out, “keep squeezin’ me like that, baby.” 

Your hand tightened around his cock the more you pumped, and you could already feel the way he started twitching in your grasp. “Already?” You teased, earning a small huff from your boyfriend. That little smile of yours—ever so teasing—remained on your lips as you leaned close and whispered, “Cum already, Satoru.” Your hot breath hit his ear, sending a shiver down his spine as his jaw clenched. He would get you back for this. 

“Shit,” he growled, keeping his voice low so as not to attract anyone’s attention. His thighs clenched as he finally came undone, his hot seed quickly spilling out onto your hand and his pants. Your boyfriend’s body remained clenched, and you could tell he was trying to hold back on how much he released. Satoru’s cheeks were flushed, and his shades hung low on his nose as his chest rose and fell with quiet breaths. 

His pretty blues glanced at you from the side, widening slightly as he watched the way you brought your hand to your mouth and licked up his cum. You kept your eyes on him the entire time, and it was unfair with how quickly the blood rushed back to his cock. Oh yeah, he was going to get you back. Once finished, you grabbed a napkin from the table and did your best to clean up the rest of the evidence on his pants while he zipped himself back up. 

“Feel better?” You asked. He only hummed a small reply. “Why did you hold back, Toru?” 

A small grin spread across his face at your question. “Public place, too many people,” he answered, soon leaning closer to whisper, “and I’m saving some for later.” Your eyes lit up as a chuckle fell from your lips. “Don’t think for a second that you’re safe when we get home, because I’m going to tear you apart.” 

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mdni #kiwicopia writes

[d4yl1ghts]

allure

damon salvatore x shy, fem!reader

summary: amidst a bustling atmosphere, the one thing that catches damon’s eye is the silent girl

-

Damon sat down beside Alaric as he ordered bourbon. “Hello, Ric.”, he said with his signature smirk. “What do you want now?”, Alaric asked with an annoyed expression. “Can I not spend some time with my friend?”, Damon questioned as he pouted like a baby. Alaric fake laughed. “Whatever.”

Gazing around the grill, Damon’s eyes strayed over to a veer corner where he noticed you with Elena and Bonnie. He watched as you laughed along with them but you remained quiet. He couldn’t move his eyes away from you. He was captivated by you. He was curious about you. Alaric moved his hand in front of his vision to distract him. “Hello?”, he asked dramatically.

“Hello. Move your hand.”, Damon muttered with venom laced in his tone. Ric followed his eye-line and saw you. “Damon, she is far too innocent to have to suffer with the presence of Damon Salvatore.”

“Hmm, we’ll find out.”, he mumbled as he smirked to himself. He gulped down his bourbon and elegantly made his way over to your table. “Hello, ladies.”, he said as he sat in the empty seat which was fortunately next to you.

“What do you want?”, Bonnie asked protectively. “Relax. I was just wondering why I haven’t seen her around before.”, he pointed to you. Your cheeks flushed. “Umm, Damon she’s been here for like her whole life.”, Elena rolled her eyes. “You’re just too arrogant to notice her.”, she added. “What’s your name?”, he turned to look at you. You were stunned by his eyes that were the perfect shade of ocean blue and the way his eyes crinkled as he smirked at you. No man had ever looked at you in such a way. “Y/N.”, you simply answered.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”, Damon replied charmingly. “Damon, can you leave us alone now?”, Elena mumbled angrily. Bonnie nodded in agreement. You didn’t understand why they disliked Damon so much like obviously he could be very irritating but he was tolerable and he was nice to talk to.

“Well, I’d better get a move on since some people don’t want me here.”, he glared at Bonnie and Elena. He smiled at you. “Can I give you a call later?”, he asked softly. “Yeah, sure.”, you answered automatically.

It was currently six in the afternoon and your phone started buzzing. You looked at the screen and saw Damon’s contact flashing across it. You decided to pick up. “Hey, Y/N.”, he said. “Hi.”

“Would you like to go to the grill with me? I’m bored and I know you already went today but…”, he continued. “It’s fine, I’ll be on my way.”, you ended the call as you freshened yourself up before leaving a note on the fridge telling your parents where you were.

You cautiously walked into the grill and you saw Damon waving you over. “How are you?”, he asked. “Fine, what about you?”, you reciprocated after ordering a Diet Coke. “Great.”, he answered. “Do you know what I like about you?”, he questioned as he gazed into your eyes. “I love how quiet you are. It’s so alluring.”, he added with a genuine expression. You smiled at him. “Really?”, you asked. “Yes, why would I make that up?”

“I don’t know, I’m just used to being picked on for how quiet I am, to be honest.”, you stated as you played with your fingers, avoiding his intense eyes. “Don’t feel like that. That’s what makes you… you.”, he said. “I never thought someone like you could be so wise.”, you responded. “Well… I am over a hundred years old so you could say I’ve gained some experience.”, he smirked at you. “Fair enough.”, you simply stated as you proceeded to talk with him for another hour.

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x y/n #damon salvatore x female reader #damon salvatore imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares imagine #tvdu #tvdu x reader #tvdu fanfiction #tvdu imagines #tvd x reader #tvd x you #tvd fanfiction #fem!reader

[oven-thermometer]

Don’t Ask.

Summary: Damian needs a place to spend the night, somewhere he won’t be riddled with questions – somewhere he’d feel safe. Jason’s place just seems to materialise. 

(NOT A SHIP)

a/n: my bff and I made a sims world for dc and cod characters. that’s how this started. enjoy. This is a hurt/comfort if you were wondering. 

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, past trauma, swearing, the author has never written for dc before, spelling mistakes problably.

w/c: 4.7k

It was raining when Jason pushed the doors open. He had been sitting in that stuffy room in a sharing circle for what felt like hours. He hadn’t spoken much in today’s session, not that he minded. He preferred the days were he could sit back and silently make his own judgements about the other people sitting in shitty plastic chairs, pouring their hearts out for six strangers and one mildly qualified doctor.

A soft hand touched his arm as he stared listlessly at the wet parking lot. Turning his head, he found the comforting smile of Meemaw Vicky staring at him. The elderly woman had insisted he call her Vicky, it made her feel young apparently – he added the ‘Meemaw’ part himself to tease her.

“You didn’t talk in there today.” She remarked, letting her hand fall from his arm in preference of standing next to him.

“Didn’t feel like any of the topics applied to me much.” He lied.

She just hummed in reply, letting him stew in the fact that she knew exactly what he actually wanted to say. ‘Today just felt like one of those days where if I talk too much I’ll drop dead.’ 

She knew because she had those days too, he knew that as well. She was in the same therapy group as him, and he’d heard some of her stories. Her husband being murdered in front of her from a home invasion wasn’t what he was expecting to come out of what seemed to be the kindest old lady, although he didn’t think anyone was prepared to hear his truth either. He left out the raised by batman and dying part, but being kidnapped by the Joker was all too well known by some of the people in this godforsaken community center. 

Breaking out of his trance, Jason inhaled sharply, “You still coming over tomorrow?”

“Yes, and I’ll be bringing a surprise, I think you’ll like it.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, just kept watching the soft rain pattering onto the ground. 

“I’m sure I will, Meemaw.”

Jason helped her to the bus stop, leaving with a kiss on his cheek and a dish of leftover mac and cheese he wasn’t sure where she was keeping. 

Something was wrong. When he had arrived home, the rain still making itself known, something had been off. None of his lights were on, so he couldn’t see in – but the welcome mat Barbra had gotten him was scuffed with mud he knew he hadn’t tracked in last night after his patrol. Checking the front door confirmed it was still locked. 

Opening the door slowly, he surveyed the room. His bottom floor was completely open plan, save for a cupboard acting as a divider between the kitchen and the living room. Nothing was amiss from what he could see, except for his missing dog. She always woke up before he actually got in, waiting to greet him at the door. But she was missing and he couldn’t even hear her soft snores. 

Then he heard it. A soft mumble. Something he couldn’t make out. But he had heard it. It had come from his living room area. When he made his way over, he couldn’t do anything except let out a deep, annoyed sigh. 

“I thought dogs were meant to deter unwanted guests.”

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne sat on Jason’s beaten up couch with a neutral expression as he ran his hand behind Dog’s ear. She looked up at Jason, her tongue flopping out. Damian seemed to either be in a deep comatose state, or he was completely ignoring Jason’s presence. 

“What? No snarky comment or backhanded compliment?” Jason asked as he moved to turn the lights on. When he turned back to the teenager, the bruises littering his neck catches his attention immediately. From what he could see they continued all the way round and disappeared under his shirt too. He would’ve been alarmed if it weren’t for the fact that Damian was a crime-fighting vigilante, had a kill count in the triple digits and oh yeah, was the son of Batman. So Jason just shook his head and walked to the kitchen. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” Jason called out, busying himself with shoving some of the mac and cheese in the microwave.

Dog had finally let up on her pure betrayal. She trotted over to Jason, purely unaware as she scratched at her food bowl. 

With no response coming from the couch’s occupant, Jason just rolled his eyes and bent down to pet Dog and fill her food bowl. Her slightly crossed eyes closed as she licked at his face before she started on her dinner. She was a certified therapy dog, another gift from that group therapy. She worked, though. She gave him something to get out of bed for. Whatever happened, he knew he had to get home and feed Dog. And she calmed him down during the occasional panic attack, so he didn’t mind the downside of walks and feeding too much. 

Later, after Jason and Damian had sat at the kitchen island in silence and each had eaten their own dinner, Damian got up without a word and began washing the few dishes left in the sink. Jason knew not to argue with him when he started doing something. He settled for watching him as he washed and rinsed, offering the occasional help when he noticed the boy would stop for a few seconds as he didn’t know where something was. At this point Jason was getting slightly concerned. Damian was never this quiet. He would show up without explanation sometimes, but he’d always offer some insult or sassy statement throughout the visit. This wasn’t normal. 

Checking his phone, no out of the ordinary messages peaked his interest, no one asking where Damian was or who had him. Then, the time caught his eye. If Damian went to sleep any later, he’d be a disaster to deal with in the morning and there weren’t enough therapy dogs in the world for that patience test. 

“C’mon, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.” 

Just before Jason left his bedroom to let Damian get some sleep, he stopped. Damian was standing next to his bed, awkwardly wringing his hands together and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 

His voice was small when he spoke, and it sounded too broken for it’s own good, “I presume Alfred has been told of my whereabouts.”

“Nope.” His reply was quick and matter-of-fact. 

“He would want to know where I am – and so would… so would father.” The last part was softer, almost like he didn’t want to say it in the first place. 

“Between you and me, I can tell when someone doesn’t wanna be found just yet.” 

The door made a soft click as Jason closed it behind him. Dog was all too happy when she got to smother him completely as he lay down on the couch.

The next morning, as the last part of yesterday’s rain still prattled on stubbornly against his windows, Jason stood in the kitchen with his favourite mug. His neighbour had gotten it for him, a house-warming gift. He hated the stupid camo decals but it was the first genuine gift he had gotten in years. So he kept it. Not hearing the sound of careful footsteps coming down the stairs, Jason blinked his thoughts away when Damian’s unkempt set of dark curls entered his peripheral vision. 

“Rough night?” Jason joked.

“What? I stayed in the room if that’s what-“

“It’s an expression dumbass, your hair looks like it’s going in five different directions.”

“…Oh.” That small glimpse of innocence and the look of a tiny epiphany in Damian made Jason smile, but it was wiped away quickly when Damian started listing off his breakfast needs like he was at a restaurant.

“-and with that you’ll pour the cream over. Oh and don’t forget the eggs. Not too crispy and not too soft.”

“You order Alfred around like that in the mornings?” Jason turned to his cabinets, pulling out a box of cereal that was probably two months too old. 

“I usually accept my breakfast in bed, and he already knows how I like everything.” He sat on one of the high-chairs, looking impossibly childish as his legs hung off too far from the ground.

“Oh, sorry your highness, but you’ll have to deal with cereal today.” They did this dance everytime he came over to visit.

As Damian ate, Jason started with washing the mug and spoon in his sink. This felt better. The younger boy was finally offering up full sentences one after the other and wouldn’t immediately look away when he tried to meet his eyes – even though he could tell he was still struggling.

But those bruises caught his eye again. Bile started to rise in his throat.

“Your neck-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stopped eating for a moment before returning with more fervor. 

“So they aren’t ones from fighting?”

“Would that make them better? Acceptable?” Damian looked straight at his brother, piercing through him with his accusing stare. A challenge. 

“No, but I just wanna know if you’re safe, idiot.”

His gaze fell. He pushed his almost finished bowl of probably unsafe cereal away and stood.

“I want to leave now. The walk to my school from your house is longer than from the manor.”

After a long moment of Jason scrutinizing his every move, he sighed. “You can leave, but you’re not going to school today.”

His mouth snarled and his brow raised as he registered his words, “Excuse me?”

“If you think my questions about those marks are too personal, you’ll hate what the teachers are gonna ask.” He shrugged. 

He pondered for a moment before replying, “Maybe missing school is for the best, just today though.”

Jason put the mug and spoon onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on a dishcloth while he made his way to the front door. 

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to leave? Might as well take dog with us, she needs a walk anyways.” He held out a leash, offering it to Damian as Dog made her presence known with excited barks.

The skeptical look on Damian’s face as he walked over could have been framed. He questioned the idea of ‘us’ out-loud as he clipped the leash onto Dog’s collar.

Jason didn’t bother replying, opting to walk out the door, expecting the others to follow. The morning was still exceptionally dreary. The rain was even more misty than yesterday, but still annoying enough to warrant Jason bringing his umbrella from inside. 

The trio walked down the street without a word, with Dog being none the wiser as she sniffed at every passer-by. Jason waved to his neighbour as they passed his house, although the man just gave a blank expression and a nod in reply.

“What is wrong with him?” Damian asked as the blonde man quickly disappeared back into his house. 

“I know him from therapy, he’s ex-military or some shit. Got traumatized enough to be discharged early I guess.” He decided to leave out the part where his husband died in his arms from a gunshot to the head.

After a short while, both of them had fallen silent. Neither felt the need to fill the space between them with pointless chit-chat. That was until Damian piped up, “Your… therapy, does it actually work?”

“Most the time. Thinking of finally talking to someone?” Jason taunted him with a raised brow and smirk, wanting to get him back for this morning. 

“Definitely not. I can’t imagine anything worse than some stranger who only cares about their paycheck asking me about my life.”

“You know, it’s not always like that. Some therapists actually care. Sure, a lot of them only want the session over with so they can diagnose you and ask for the bill,” Jason sat on a park bench, expecting for the other to follow his lead, “but there are therapists that genuinely want to help people. And, you don’t have to be alone when you do it, by the way.”

Instead of replying immediately, Damian bent down to unclip Dog’s leash. She set off instantly in search of a nearby flock of pigeons with her tail pointed high and her nose to the ground. Damian chose to stay standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. It made Jason smile to himself.

“I don’t think the being alone is the issue to me.” He said it quietly, his gaze darting from one person to the next as they went about their business in the park. Even though most Gothamites were used to the near-constant downpour many still chose to stay indoors when the weather got like this. Autumn was Damian’s favourite season just for this – he could go just about anywhere and not be bothered by huge crowds or people willing to linger too long.  

“It helps, when you’re in a group. It hurts like hell and it gets embarrassing when you start crying in front of like, eight civilians and a doctor who just smiles the whole time-“

“That sounds awful.”

“But,” he says forcefully, immediately regretting it when Damian recoiled ever so slightly, “forcing yourself to be vulnerable around strangers actually gets you used to being human again. And when you realize those strangers are actually going through the same thing as you, they become way less scary.”

Gently, Jason placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Damian stiffened a little, but his expression remained blank as he kept staring off into the distance. 

The words sat on his tongue like acid, burning his throat from the inside out. He wanted to shake the boy and scream at him that it didn’t have to be like this. That he didn’t have to pretend to hide where those bruises came from. That he didn’t have to miss school like this. That he didn’t have to come running to his older brother’s house anymore. He wanted to scream the softest words he knew he’d never heard before. But he settled for letting his hand fall from his shoulder and placing it next to Damian’s clenched fist. Not an invitation, or a threat, just a reminder. 

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence. When they finally arrived back home, Jason noted that Damian seemed less dejected, but as if he was now just floating above his body. 

Jason took his place in the rocking chair Meemaw Vicky got him for knitting in. The whole thing had been her idea, she said knitting helps keep your hands and your mind off of other things – and god knew he needed that. The old, stolen, clock that sat on Jason’s, also stolen, shelf reminded him of something he had very much conveniently forgotten. 

Meemaw Vicky would be arriving in exactly ten minutes, maybe longer if she was late – Jason knew she wouldn’t be. His gaze turned to Damian who was sitting quietly on his couch, reading through one of the random books Jason kept on his shelves, next to that clock. Dog slept at his feet, her muffled snores indicating her tiredness after their walk. Damian’s glazed over eyes flew across the words, leaning back into the plush cushions as he flipped the pages. His nose crinkled every few sentences, trying to decipher whatever hidden message the author was trying to make him read between the lines for. He had two options, shove Damian out the house before Meemaw Vicky can get her hands on his chubby cheeks and then end up with a knife in her ribs, or lock him upstairs till she leaves. He decided on neither. 

“I have someone coming over soon.”

“Pennyworth?” he didn’t even look up as he answered him.

“For the last time, he probably knows where you are already and no I have not called him. A friend of mine is visiting.”

“You have friends?” that got an amused look from Damian. Friendly eye contact, progress.

That comment snapped his invisible patience though.

“Speak for yourself,” stop, “you’ve been at that school for what? Eight months?” what are you doing, “How many friends have you managed to make?” why am I saying this, “And how many of those kids actually know you past the fact that you’re a billionaires kid who can’t talk about his feelings?” God please just shut up.

Jason bit the inside of his cheek before he could continue fucking up. He tasted copper while he saw the emotions flit through Damian’s eyes. They were too short to recognize but he felt each one like a gut punch all the same. Damian just blinked and looked back down to his book, obviously not actually reading it. Progress erased. 

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

That feeling came back, the urge to grip him so tight and engrain what he was feeling into his bones. The feelings he couldn’t hope to find the words for. The apologies, the forgiveness, the reassurance, the anger. 

The ringing of the doorbell announcing Meemaw Vicky's arrival interrupted Jason thoughts.

Damian didn’t even pretend to be interested in getting up. He just kept looking at the book.

Dog got up and happily trotted over to greet her through the door. Jason sighed as he walked over to open the door, giving her cheeks a kiss each as to say hello.

“Oh Jason, I finally managed to grow those orchids we talked about! They were tough but they bloomed just this morning! I brought a few cuttings for you to keep around the house.” Her smile                     seemed to cleanse the soul, letting you know just how good her intentions always where. Not a bad bone resided in this woman’s body – maybe that’s why Jason loved having her over. He felt as if the goodness overflowing from her every word would stain him and his house so that nothing of his past would remain. And he also just enjoyed the company every once in a while.

Jason failed to notice just how quickly the elderly woman could still move. She had already gotten all the way to his living room while he was thinking, leaving the plastic bags surely filled with flower cuttings on his kitchen counter. He had to move.

But when he walked the distance and talked himself out of revisiting the locking Damian upstairs idea, all he found was Meemaw Vicky leaning dangerously close over Damian’s shoulder, asking him a list of questions about himself. 

She stood up and looked to Jason, shoving an accusatory finger in his space. “You never told me you had a little brother! I expected better from you, Jason Todd.”

Damian scoffed at that. Jason just rolled his eyes and mumbled an apology.

Meemaw Vicky sat a respectable distance on the couch from the boy, giving him ample space. She had calmed down considerably, but still asked Damian questions he answered through gritted teeth. 

“How old are you?”

“13.”

“Oh, same age as my granddaughter! You’d love her. I think I should bring her over one day to meet you.”

“Please don’t.”

“So what are you learning about in school? Ooh, what book have you got there? I need to catch up on my reading.”

“I- I am on a normal curriculum and I’m reading, uh, Pride and Prejudice.”

“I see,” she sat back for a moment, studying him, “you know that’s your brother’s favourite book.”

“…Really?”

Meanwhile, content that he wasn’t going to stab her, Jason had left the two alone to make some tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil, he decided to actually check his phone for the first time since last night. The usual app notifications were quickly deleted, with a few kept – if he doesn’t keep the instagram notifications he will never remember to watch all the reels Dick sends him, and then he’ll never hear the end of it. His finger stopped in it’s motion across the phone when it lit up with a call screen. The caller ID seemed to seep into Jason’s psyche and grip his lungs. 

‘Bruce Wayne’ in plain, black text in front of the white background laughed at him. It was taunting him. 

He declined the call. And the next one. And the next three. 

He only picked up the last call because this time it came from Alfred, and he was too scared to decline a call from that man.

“What’s up?”

“Master Jason, I assume Master Damian is with you?”

“Why?”

“He didn’t come home from school yesterday. He’d only ever stay the night at your or Master Dick’s house.”

“And how do you not know he’s not at Dick’s place?”

“Because he at least answers Bruce’s phone calls the first time. Master Dick has not seen Master Damian.”

Damn that man and his phone addiction, and his undying loyalty to their adoptive father.

“Listen, he’s here but I can tell he doesn’t wanna go home. Not yet.”

“That is not what I’m concerned with, what I don’t like is him getting to skip school. You know how important an education is to give that boy some semblance of a normal life.” Although Alfred’s words were curt and pinched, Jason felt the genuine care that lay beneath them. Alfred loved Damian just as much as any of them. 

“I… I know. But Alfred, did you see his neck? People would ask questions. And you know he hates that.” He spoke in a hushed voice, careful to not let Damian hear.

The silence that came from the other end of the call was filled with the kettles high-pitched whine. Quickly turning the stove off, Jason wracked his brain for what to say to Alfred about any of this. 

But, it was Alfred that spoke as Jason poured the cups of tea while holding the phone to his ear.

“I was not made aware of any injuries. How bad are they?”

“God, Alfred I- shit,” he winced as he spilled some boiling water on his hand, “I don’t know. He won’t even let me see but there are nasty bruises all over his neck. And I can tell they go further. He must’ve had a pretty bad fight, did something happen?”

“Master Damian has not been on patrol for a few days though, he has been on a strict sleeping schedule due to an upcoming school project.”

“… what?” Suddenly, those calls from Bruce started making sense.

It was hours later, Meemaw had left long ago and Jason disappeared into his room. When he descended the stairs, clad in his vigilante costume, he found Damian still sitting cross-legged in the living room. He was actually properly reading the book and Jason almost didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. 

“Did you bring your suit?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Get dressed. Meet me on the roof.” He knew he didn’t have to explain how to get up there, he'd find his way fine. 

By the time Damian finally joined Jason on the roof, Jason stood with his hands on his hips looking like an impatient mother. “Follow.” Was all the instruction Jason gave before he darted off in the direction of the next rooftop. 

When they stopped a few minutes later, Jason looked over to Damian, “Tired yet, kid?”

Damian shook his head, a neutral expression staining his face.

This continued for city block after city block. Mile after mile, they ran. Every few stops, Jason would look to Damian with a grin– a challenge of his own. And Damian would accept it every time.

Only when both of them were drenched in sweat and panting for breath did Jason finally speak again. 

“Tired?”

Damian stood hunched over, with his hands on his knees. Oxygen flooded his lungs as he breathed and sweat dripped off of his face. He didn’t even try and respond.

Jason just chuckled, huffing before setting off in a run again.

Only about five rooftops later did he think to look back. He didn’t think he would find Damian right behind him – on all-fours, his chest heaving. 

Jason silently came towards him, sitting on his haunches and placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was gentler this time, “Tired?”

Damian’s eyes were screwed shut. Tears of exhaustion burned him. The stench of sweat invaded his nostrils. Every part of his suit clung to him in all the wrong ways. He wanted to tear every offending piece off of him. He wanted to scream but the exertion had stolen too much out of him.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Damian’s shoulder as he spoke, “Hey, it’s gonna be ok. You did good.”

No. No he didn’t. He had failed. He’d lost the challenge. He couldn’t have hoped to keep up if they had continued. He-

“Hey. Look at me.”

Slowly, Damian’s eyes opened. His ribs burned with embarrassment as his gaze lifted. 

“I’m sor-“ Damian tried.

“Stop.” His voice wasn’t too rough this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d been trained better than that. And yet Damian still winced. 

“Look at how far we came. How far you came.” He nodded his head to the horizon behind them, and Damian followed his guide to glance back.

He couldn’t even see Jason’s house anymore. He could only see an unfamiliar landscape dotted with buildings and rooftops. They had gone so far he couldn’t even recognize where in Gotham they were. 

“Where are we?”

“One of the newer suburbs, Bruce hasn’t mapped this part of the city yet. That’s why I love coming here.” He stood, moving to the edge of the roof.

“Why did you bring me here, Jason?” the way he said his name made his heart hurt.

“Because,” he grunted as he swung his legs over the edge and took a seat, “I wanted to remind you that you’re human. You can’t do everything. You can fall over because you’re exhausted. You can fail.”

Tears pricked at his eyes for a different reason now. His limbs screeched at him as he stood.

“I am aware that I am only human. I am reminded of that every single day.”

“Yeah, but did anyone ever teach you that that’s a good thing? That it is allowed?”

Damian reluctantly sat next his brother. It was late by now, the final streaks of dusk laying in the sky.

“I can hardly see how constantly being told that you are human is a good thing.”

“Told?”

Damian’s breath hitched.

Jason smirked, “There it is.”

The younger boy’s shoulders dropped. 

“So, who is it? Who do I need bury?”

He refused to answer.

“Damian if someone is hurting you, you are allowed to defend yourself. You don’t need to keep up this civilian charade when it comes to-“

“I know that. My civilian persona doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Jason quirked his brow at this. A deep orange glow disappeared over the buildings and the final stars began to show. The theory Jason feared the most was rearing it’s ugly head.

“It was Bruce wasn’t it.” It was less of a question, but he was getting tired of beating around the bush. 

As the navy sky blanketed the city and snuffed out any of the golden sunset, Damian finally allowed himself to let go. Jason didn’t need to look over to see the tears flowing down his brother’s face, he knew. How ever silent Damian thought he was being or had been last night in Jason’s room, he knew. He also knew the pain. The pain of acceptance that came with acknowledging what had happened, and who did it to you. 

“I wasn’t fast enough. I deserved it.” Jason just let him talk, “We were training, and I- I failed. I could’ve been faster, stronger – I could have…”

It took a few more moments before he continued, “I got too tired. He caught me too many times. I-“

His voice broke when Jason pulled him towards his chest. He wrapped his arms around the too-young boy. Damian let his heart sink. He let his exhausted mind melt. He let himself be human for a second. 

#batfam #batfamily #jason todd #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman #batfam fic #batfam angst #batman mentioned!! #Simon riley cameo