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lalal-99 · 3 days

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of being true {l.f.} | track 5

©June 2023, April 2024 by lalal-99

Lee Felix x Jung Wooyoung | trope: strangers to lovers | word count: 9.2k

Synopsis: The one that's about Felix and other pretty people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: This is an interim chapter. You don't need to read this chapter to understand the rest of the main plot. But I advise you do, because it's just so beautiful. Truly one of the best things I have ever written. (Reposting, cause the first upload tanked...)

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Felix learned he was gay at the tender age of 7. That was if he were completely honest with himself.

It happened on a beautiful Sunday morning in his suburban Sydney home. He had just prepped himself a bowl of fruit loops, clad in his pyjamas with his favourite blanket in hand. That’s how he made himself a home on the sofa, turning on the TV with the volume on low so his parents wouldn’t wake. Switching through channels his parents had forbidden him to watch, he finally landed on Nickelodeon. And that’s when he saw him.

Danny.

Phantom, if that wasn’t clear already.

All the kids at school had talked about the show for weeks, raving over who they thought Danny would end up with. Sam—the sarcastic best friend—or Jazz—the cutesy love interest. Pretty, beautiful and whitty were some of the words his friends referred to them as. Felix needed to see for himself and make up his mind. If not to admire their animated beauty, at least to determine who he preferred.

Needless to say, all intentions went out the window once he saw the underdog protagonist. His hair as black as the night and his eyes as blue as the ocean minutes away from Felix’s house. And that was only the human form of one Danny Fenton. No one could have prepared Felix for the incredible looks of his super-hero alter-ego. His icy grey hair and green eyes were truly something else, and Felix was soon captivated by the fictitious character. A fabricated figure drawn with pencil, but even so the hero of his childhood.

In hindsight, Felix should have known it right then and there.

While his friends argued the show’s female characters, he fantasised protecting Amity Park alongside his idol. Telling him his deepest secrets and hugging him in glee at the end of each episode.

As he was only a child, Felix didn’t think to investigate the intensity of his affection further. He pushed it to the back of his mind. Argued that he didn’t watch the show for its romantic aspects whenever someone asked him about his prefered love interest.

Despite ignoring the nagging thought for all his childhood—oblivious to a deeper meaning behind it—it caught up with him at some point. And that point came in the form of one Cassidy Miller.

Cassidy was one of Felix’s classmates in Year 8. Upon laying eyes on him on the first day of the year, she made it her main plot point to become his girlfriend. During lunch that first day, she chose the seat next to him in the cafeteria, sharing some of her homemade snacks. As a teenage boy amid a growth spurt, he accepted with not another word of persuasion. He didn’t even consider it to be an advance of sorts. Even when his friend high-fived him after the fact, Felix understood it as an act of kindness. Cassidy was trying to make some friends after moving to town weeks prior. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It took him about three weeks of shared snacks every day and a kiss on his cheek to recognise that, yes. A girl had a crush on him. And everything would have been fine. Hadn’t it been for the slight complication that he didn’t feel the same about her. Cassidy was sweet. He would even agree that she was cute with her bunny nose and blonde locks. Conventionally attractive features for a 14-year-old girl.

Before he could break the truth to her, though, she had already introduced him to her parents. Quick, but Felix didn’t get the chance to intervene. He didn’t even know she wanted to introduce them when she asked him to follow her to the parking lot. Let alone introduce him as her boyfriend, much to her father’s dismay.

So, at the fragile age of 14, Felix found himself in a heterosexual relationship with a girl he barely knew but didn’t have the heart to break up with. As though being an unknowing closeted teenager wasn’t enough already.

That relationship, as innocent as it was, lasted 6 months. At most, it consisted of hand-holding and handwritten notes passed during class. Still, it lasted long for a first relationship Felix had no intention of having in the first place.

When Cassidy revealed that her dad had been relocated for the umpteenth time, Felix was even a little sad. She left after only 7 months, thus ending the relationship as it had begun—completely out of his control.

One should think: A closeted gay teen who just came out of a heterosexual relationship he hadn’t intended having? Definitely won’t do that again in the near future.

And that thought was fair. But wrong.

It took around 2 months after Cassidy left when Emily Wilson came into Felix’s life.

Emily was different from Cassidy in many ways. She was one year Felix’s senior, held back a year for grade-related reasons. She had black hair and a sidecut. Eyelids always painted in a thick layer of dark eyeliner which made her look at least two years older than she was. She had a nose ring her parents hadn’t allowed her to get and wore combat boots like part of a religion. Every word leaving her lips was drenched in sarcasm, which drew Felix to her right from the beginning.

It didn’t take Felix more than a few weeks to accept it. If he were to ever have a relationship with another girl, it would be a girl like Emily.

Fortunately for him, she and Cassidy had one thing in common. They were both pretty much obsessed with him from the moment they first laid eyes on him.

Whatever was drawing them to him, Felix decided that what anyone in his position would do, was make a move on Emily. Everyone in his class was obsessing over who was with whom. All his friends went from relationship to relationship in weekly rhythms. So, getting a girlfriend himself was the logical thing to do.

The 1.5 years he spent with Emily were the most fun but excruciating months of his life. Being with someone that long was hard, as much as he loved getting to know every part of her life.

He liked Emily’s parents, and they thought he had a positive influence on their daughter. But they were uber controlling and burst into her room every few minutes to check on them and what they were doing.

He adored Emily’s love for music and art. Every picture she drew for him and every mixtape she made proudly displayed in his room. But, she didn’t allow any opinions on the topics that didn’t correlate with her own. Felix’s love for Pop music? A slap in the face of a proud anti-capitalist. Felix’s one-year-anniversary plans to visit a special exhibition in the museum? Another penny in the pocket of the rich, making them even wealthier.

He fell apart at the touch of Emily’s hands and mouth. Losing his virginity to her left him breathless and in a sweaty sheen for hours. But, as much as he didn’t mind sleeping with her, he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling. She always made the first move. And he was not only lying to himself but to her.

Their relationship was a constant back-and-forth. Liking her while not liking her enough to want a serious future. No matter how hard Felix tried, keeping up the facade became more agonising with every I love you. Eventually, Emily could tell something was eating at her boyfriend. And after 18 unforgettable months together, she finally had enough. She left him with usual harsh words and exhausted tears of relief in his eyes.

Even then, as the doubt and exhaustion finally reached the front lobe of his brain, it took him a couple more years and 3 more relationships to come to terms with reality.

Felix was gay and wouldn’t continue lying to everyone around him.

Well, except for his parents, who, despite living in a modern country, had different values. They weren’t particularly homophobic, though they approached the movement with ignorance. That’s other people. That would never happen to us.

Thankfully, by the time Felix realised he would never be content in a heterosexual relationship, he had already set his eyes on further education abroad. And once he finished High School, he was already packed and ready to head overseas to live as his true self.

Never in a million years had Felix expected to live that true self so early in this new chapter of his life. He had barely set foot onto campus when he bumped into a guy on his way out of the physiology building. Felix almost lost balance but the man grabbed his biceps, delicate fingers steadying him against himself. That’s when he met the guy’s gaze. Beautiful mahogany, surrounded by a sheen of gold eyeliner. Which only made them sparkle even further than Felix was sure they already did. His hair died in layers of blonde and black, ears adorned by so many earrings he couldn’t have counted them. And that cheeky smile on his lips made Felix want to taste him right then and there.

Instead, Felix pulled away, smoothing his t-shirt out as he hugged his bag closer to himself. It gave his hands something to do while hiding the semi he sported. From a short-lived, innocent physical contact, but nonetheless.

“You good?” the guy asked, and Felix nodded, eyes wide as though he had seen a ghost. The man swiped his thumb over his plumb bottom lip with a smirk and a wink as he brushed past Felix. “Next time, keep your eyes on what’s important. Alright, Pretty?”

Pretty. Felix subconsciously nodded at the words as the man rounded the corner with another look back. He remained still for approximately minutes before he shook himself to snap out of it.

And that could have been it. A short, embarrassing moment like he had had so many times before. But that wasn’t Felix’s luck.

God screamed You should see your face at Felix when he entered his Psychology 101 class days later. The same boy stood by the entrance, talking to another guy who looked a little too good in his pink hair.

Felix skimmed past him, feeling the man’s gaze trained on his back as he wordlessly sat between two girls. Anything so he wasn’t exposed to the man’s enticing presence. Making his heart race like that of an untouched virgin.

That’s when Felix diagnosed: He might not be as ready to live his true self as he had thought.

The decision to take his time exploring his identity was easily made. Yet, the pledge lasted only 4 days.

“Hi, man! How’s it going?”

The first thing Felix noticed about the man in front of Jisung was the age difference.

Jisung might have been Felix’s age phsyically, but he usually carried himself with a heightened sense of maturity. His long-term girlfriend definitely was the cause for that, so much the countless dirty jokes had told Felix.

Jackson, on the contrary, had a sense of wiseness to him. He must have made many a experience that still awaited Felix and Jisung. What exactly made Felix feel like that, he couldn’t pinpoint. Although it likely wasn’t the baggy clothing or the Gucci snapback. Jackson must have come from money, was all Felix took away from them. And if it weren’t for Jackson’s clothing, the golden earrings and chain around his neck would have said as much.

“I’m alright. The workload already has me in a chokehold. But I’ll manage,” Jisung joked with his old friend before turning to Felix. “Jackson, this is my roommate, Felix. Felix, Jackson.”

“Nice to meet you!” Jackson greeted him as he pulled him into a bro-hug. The first of many, Felix was sure.

“Likewise.”

“So, already swimming in the workload? If it’s too much already, I wouldn’t advise picking Medicine as a Major. I was studying until the second the first guests arrived. And I will continue the moment the house is empty.”

A future doctor? Jackson? Definitely not what Felix had expected, but he didn’t know the guy. All he could go from was the first impression. He knew better than to judge from that alone.

“I’ll keep that in mind. You should tell Y/N before she suggests I also become a doctor.”

“She’s still not giving up on you picking a Major, huh?”

“I swear it’s everything she talked about the past two months.” Felix looked around the place, trying his hardest to ignore the words coming from his friend. It wasn’t like he knew everything about their relationship, nor was he picking sides in this debate. But hearing Jisung talk behind her back like that? It filled him with slight unease. “I love her, but it’s annoying.”

“You probably don’t want to hear it, but she has a point.”

Again, not what Felix had expected from Jackson. Taking Y/N’s side like that.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a semester to figure things out, but you’ll have to pick one eventually.” Jackson could tell from Jisung’s expression that this wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But...” Jackson opened three beer bottles from the sink before handing two of them over to Felix and Jisung. “That’s a conversation for tomorrow. Or next week. Right now, we party.”

“Hell, yeah!” Jisung agreed with a cheer before toasting the other two and downing half his bottle.

Felix took a sip, face scrunching at the bitter aftertaste of the liquid. He had never quite grown accustomed to the flavour of beer, his tastebuds preferring vodka or rum. Anything that mixed well with soft drinks.

While Jackson and Jisung chatted away like two estranged friends (which, for as much as Felix had understood, they were), Felix’s gaze wandered through the doorway into the living room. The house gradually filled with young students—some yet sober, some already intoxicated. Felix started appreciating Jisung by his side, so he didn’t have to approach this situation alone. Even if Jisung, right now, was ignoring his presence for his old friend.

Distracted by the loud music, Felix took a few steps out of the kitchen, when suddenly, he got knocked off his feet. Or at least almost.

He would have planted his face straight into the tiled flooring hadn’t it been for a set of delicate fingers coming to his biceps and steadying him. And if it weren’t already a complete recap of his encounter on the first day, Felix met the same mahogany eyes yet again.

Sweet, sweet irony.

The guy recognised him soon enough, a smirk appearing on his beautiful face. How he could be so enticing and cheeky without saying a word was beyond Felix.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

Invisible strings drew Felix’s eyes to the man’s face, hanging on the way his lips moved whenever he spoke. He was in total awe of how someone could sound so sweet while having the fucking confidence of a... Well, if Felix had to name it, he would have called it fuckboy. Although, he didn’t want to judge a book by its cover. Even if this particular book was extremely easy on the eyes.

“You good?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you if you were alright.”

“Oh, of course. Yes, I’m good.”

“Good.” And there it was again. That stupid smirk made Felix feel things he didn’t know he had the mental capacity to feel. Emotions he had prayed to feel for Cassidy, Emily, Tina and all the others, he instead felt for some stranger the second he laid eyes on him. Like a complete loser. “You’re Felix, right?”

Eyebrows raising at the sound of his name from the stranger’s mouth, Felix swallowed thickly. “Yes. How do you know?”

“We have Psychology 101 together.” The first non-flirtatious words coming from the man, though that didn’t last long. “And I always remember the pretty faces.”

Pretty. That word, again, made Felix’s stomach churn and his pants tighten. Internally, he scolded himself for being so new to this that the simple compliment could affect him like this.

“I’m—You—Erm—” Felix stumbled over his thoughts pathetically. The stranger’s eyes kept running over all Felix’s features and he was very aware of it. He must have thought Felix was an utter basket-case. If he wanted to keep the last bit of pride, he had to get it together. Quick. “What’s your name?”

“Ouch,” the guy said as he placed his hand over a heart in mock hurt. “And here I hoped you had paid as much attention to me as I did you.”

What now? He had paid attention to Felix? When? How long? And why? Was this all part of a play, or was he kidding? Felix didn’t know what to think.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“No worries. I’m messing with you.” A breath of relief escaped Felix’s lips as he hoped the guy didn’t notice. “I’m Wooyoung. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“You, too,” Felix replied with the first smile in approximately hours.

“So, Felix. Now that I saved your life twice, what do you say we have a drink? It’s on me.”

Felix laughed at the joke as he pushed a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear.

“I already have one,” Felix explained, holding up the beer towards Wooyoung.

“Beer? You’re one of those guys?” Wooyoung asked with a sarcastic undertone, making Felix blush as he eyed the brown bottle.

“Actually, no. I never liked beer.” Placing the almost full bottle on the counter, he let Wooyoung guide him around the counter. A display of countless different liquors met them in a broad array.

“What’s your poison? Vodka? Gin?” Wooyoung questioned as he grabbed two red cups from the stack.

“Rum, actually.” The slight smile on Wooyoung flustered Felix as he hoped he hadn’t somehow made a fool of himself. Again. “What?”

“Nothing,” Wooyoung shrugged as he filled the two cups with a quarter rum before topping them off with coke. “I just know how to pick ‘em.” Felix didn’t know what he was hinting at, so he only smiled once Wooyoung handed him his drink. “To new acquaintances.”

“Yes. Acquaintances.”

With that, they toasted and took a sip each. The mixture of Captain Morgan and Coke gave Felix a sweet aftertaste. Much more comfortable than the beer had done, and he returned the smile Wooyoung sent him.

This whole situation was rather new to Felix. He had never been to a party like this. Single, that was. He never had the chance to meet someone on the go in a similar situation, and that reality filled him with unease. Despite having only met the guy, Felix wanted Wooyoung to like him. Whether that was a like in the we’ll become good friends sense or the give me all of you kinda way.

For a moment, Felix felt he was getting ahead of himself. He had met Wooyoung a few minutes ago. For all he knew, being flirtatious could have been engraved in his personality. Felix had arrived at campus mere days ago and even pledged to ease himself into this new, true identity. He definitely shouldn’t rush it.

As fast as he remembered that pledge he had taken, the memory evaporated. Wooyoung’s hand touched his hip, pulling him slightly closer, in front of everyone. Including his roommate and Jackson—two people he had no idea how they’d react to finding out his deepest secret. A secret he had never told anyone, on top of that.

“So, Felix—” Looking around the room, Felix soon realised that Jisung had left, and so had Jackson. A bunch of random people were running around, albeit ignoring the two guys in the corner, throwing googly eyes at each other. That realisation relaxed him almost entirely. “What’s your deal?”

Felix’s eyes met Wooyoung’s lips as he licked his own, a little nervous in the presence of someone so beautiful still. “What do you mean?”

“Are you, like, single? Hetero? Better tell me now before I fall for another straight guy.”

For someone so—unfamiliar, Felix felt himself drawn to anything Wooyoung did. Much more than he ever had with any of his ex-girlfriends. Sure, Felix was nervous around him, his hands shaking so heavily, he feared he’d spill his drink on the guy. At least some blame laid on his inexperience, blood rushing through his system like it was racing against itself. How was Wooyoung so self-assured and head-on anyways?

“I don’t know what to say.”

That was the truth. Felix had no idea how to answer such a straightforward question. Especially since he hadn’t said the words I am gay out loud, ever. Not even to himself. Expressing his personality to a stranger, out of all people, felt so out of place for him. Although he couldn’t deny the unmistakable magnetism pulling him towards Wooyoung.

“That’s okay. Because I know.”

The fingers at Felix’s hips dug into his flesh a little fiercer as Wooyoung closed in, breath hitting Felix’s cheek. Everything around him slowed in motion as his gaze switched from Wooyoung’s eyes to his lips, unsure of what to do or how to act. Would this be his first kiss with a man? With a stranger? In front of all these people? Tipsy from two unfinished drinks and Wooyoung’s presence alone?

“You do?” It took him a few seconds to finally reply, the tension becoming too much, too fast. “Maybe you can tell me. Because I have no fucking idea.”

Wooyoung laughed out loud at his words; a hearty laugh which sounded much like heaven to Felix. Some of the tension vanished as he took another deep breath and a long sip from his drink.

“And he’s funny, too. Damn, I really do know how to pick ‘em.”

The words made Felix blush as he averted his gaze towards the floor.

“I tell you what,” Wooyoung retracted his hands as his softening gaze met Felix’s anxious one. He must have noticed Felix’s unsure aura, torn between wanting to experience whatever Wooyoung had in mind and taking it slow. Felix had never been this happy about his expressional features. “How about you figure out what your deal is first? And when you do, come find me.”

As much as those words took the pressure off, Felix couldn’t deny the hint of disappointment pulling at his mood. He wanted to try and get him to close the proximity again, feeling cold after Wooyoung had pulled away. Sneakers screeching against the tiles soon captured their attention, rendering the moment gone. Felix recognised the owner as the same guy Wooyoung had been sitting next to in class. How could he have forgotten the bright pink hair and features as sharp as a fox’s?

“Dude, you gotta come watch this,” the guy exclaimed as he came over, dragging Wooyoung away by his hand. “Mingi is trying to do a keg-stand. It’s fucking hilarious. Like a giraffe trying to… well, do a kegstand.”

“No way!” With one last wink that made Felix’s knees weak, Wooyoung ran after his friend and out of Felix’s vision. It took him a few desperate moments to steady himself, hands still trembling from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Felix turned around, one, to tighten his grip around the counter and regain his balance, and two, conceal the boner which his pants did nothing to hide. His mind kept racing back to the proximity, the touches. The flirtatious words of a guy he barely knew but, at the same time, felt like he wanted to know everything about. The distance allowed him to realised how fast everything had played out. And while he feared it had happened all too fast, he couldn’t help but want to skip forward even further.

Perhaps, it was that he was desperate to finally get a taste of what he had denied himself for years. Crushes, love, passion. Everything his girlfriends had felt, but he never quite managed to. Making mistakes and gaining experience. Anything eventually leading him to alwaysness. With whomever that might be.

Although, right now, he wanted to have a sense of it with one particular person.

Two excruciating hours later, Felix found himself in the living area of the frat house. He had thought back to the moment in the kitchen so many times he could hardly count them. Not to mention how often he had gotten semi-hard thinking about Wooyoung’s breath against his cheek. His hands on his hips. And his words in his ear.

How about you figure out what your deal is first? And when you do, come find me.

But what if there was nothing to figure out? What if Felix already knew what he wanted and what his deal was? What if the only thing keeping him from acting on it was his inexperience?

All those what if’s jogging through Felix’s brain didn’t change anything. All he wanted—truly wanted at the moment—was to drag Wooyoung into the nearest closet and make him feel good. Have Wooyoung make him feel good. Whatever the guy was up for, honestly. Felix had spent the better part of two decades pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Now that he had a fresh start, he desired to finally be his true self.

It took him not 20 minutes longer until he decided that enough was enough.

Y/N, Yuqi and Changbin had left a while ago to play Truth or Drink in the kitchen, leaving Felix with a group of random boys. Sure, it was a group of boys he considered his closest friends on campus, but right now, they appeared so boring. Especially with a much more intriguing person, throwing him suggestive winks from the other end of the room.

How he had even noticed Wooyoung in the sea of drunk students was beyond him. Though Felix had no brain capacity left for the whys and hows. Wooyoung was sipping on his drink, playing with the straw about as suggestively as Felix had seen anyone do. Biting at the short fingernail of his pinky, Felix already felt the excitement nagging at his gut. The combination of clothes, alcohol and arousal ran him so very hot.

Wooyoung’s pink-haired friend didn’t notice he wasn’t paying him the slightest hint of attention. How ever important their conversation was, Felix couldn’t bring himself to care. This whole back and forth went on for a few minutes when Felix finally couldn’t take it anymore.

Without a word to his friends he got up from his seat, eyes drawn to the beautiful tempter at the other side of the room. Once Wooyoung recognised the intention behind Felix’s approach, he left his friend for the stairs.

The sway in his hips had Felix’s whole attention as he followed him upstairs, always a few steps behind to not alert the surrounding couples. As though they weren’t completely immersed in their make-outs and other grindings.

Once at the upper end of the staircase, Felix looked around to find the hallway empty. Someone must have ensured the private rooms remained private, and usually, this would have been the end of his path. Though the confidence in Wooyoung’s step encouraged Felix to push that to the deepest part of his brain.

His movements stayed cautious until he reached the end of the hall, entering the last room on the left. Felix took a deep breath as he closed the door and turned around. Not a second went by until he noticed the man on one of the two beds, drink long forgotten on one of the desks.

“Hi.” With no hint of pressure in his voice, Wooyoung watched Felix fidgeting by the door.

“Hi.”

Silence took over the room as Felix realised why Wooyoung wasn’t being his usual flirty self. Understanding how he had some reservations still, he left every decision up to Felix. It gave him a sense of security, understanding that if he didn’t want anything to happen, nothing would. Even if they were on their own in a small room, veiled in tension thick enough to cut with a spoon.

With that sense of total security in mind, Felix took a shaky step forward.

“So—” His voice broke as he regretted not bringing his drink. He felt the deep desire for something to cool his system, easing the lump in his throat. “I figured out what my deal is. And I’m coming to you, like you said.”

“Good.” The smile on Wooyoung’s face was as non-suggestive as he had ever seen, further soothing his tense body. “Do you mind sharing with me?”

“No. I will.” Taking another deep breath, Felix looked to the ceiling as he brought his hand to his stiff shoulders.

This was the moment. Felix would say the words out loud for the first time. Reality would hit, and there would be no escaping it anymore.

Fortunately, Felix didn’t want to run from it any longer.

“I’m single. And, I’m—”

Say it! He won’t judge. Just spit it out!

“I’m gay.”

“Okay.”

Okay. Okay? Despite the simplicity of the word, pure relief overcame Felix, body slumping as exhaustion blurred his vision. He was gay, and it was okay.

The next breath through a watery veil of happiness and alleviation felt like the first one he had ever taken.

“Oh my God, did I say something wrong?” Wooyoung hurried over to Felix’s trembling body as he wrapped his protective arms around him. Felix’s hands clung to the man’s shirt, face pressed into the crook of his neck as he let himself be held. Nothing more. Just held and accepted.

“No. Nothing wrong.” The whispered words reached Wooyoung’s ear within milliseconds. “All the right words. But—”

He stopped, pondering for a few seconds whether to confide in someone he hardly knew. A man who had nothing but shamelessly flirted with him for all 20 minutes of aggregated conversation. But he was here right now. And Felix needed to let him know how much he had already done for him.

Also, he was bawling into the guy’s shirt. It could hardly get much more intimate than this, anyways.

“I never said it out loud.”

“Oh… Oh!”

The realisation hit Wooyoung like a bus as he further fastened his comforting grip on Felix. It all made sense to him now. The insecurity. The uncomfortable tension whenever he said anything below the belt. The silence following the question of what his deal was. And here Wooyoung was, thinking he was yet again barking up the wrong tree. As it turned out, he had finally found the right tree, though it hadn’t bloomed yet.

“Fuck. I’m sorry I came on so strong. It just… I thought you were cute, but then I wasn’t so sure if you felt the same way. I assumed you might be one of those straight guys who aren’t so straight after a few drinks. So, I went all in to skip all that will-they-won’t-they crap. Wouldn’t have been the first time I was utterly disappointed at the end of the day.”

He had only tried to feel Felix out and learn if he himself could get hurt. Evidently, neither of them was trying nor intending to play games with the other.

“You didn’t come on too strong. I mean, you kinda did. But I liked it.”

As they drew away from each other, light laughter filled the room. Wooyoung’s arms were still circled around Felix’s waist as they stared into each other’s eyes. Their smiles soon faded as they recognised their proximity. When Wooyoung’s hands reclaimed their position on his hip, Felix’s stomach erupted in sheer excitement. The sentimentality of the moment was ultimately broken by his arousal.

“You like this, too. I can feel it,” Wooyoung pointed out with a smile as he squeezed Felix’s sides once, making him jump a little. “Knew it.”

“Fine. I like it.”

“So, you never told anyone you’re gay. Does that mean you just found out yourself? Or did you always know on some level and try to fit into a pair of shoes that weren’t yours?”

“A little of both. Like, I used to crush on Danny Phantom so hard it surprises me my parents never caught on. But then again, I had many girlfriends in Middle and High School.”

Wooyoung explored Felix’s cheeks and nose where freckles decorated him in beautiful patterns.

“You’ve never been with a guy then?”

Felix shook his head as his gaze met Wooyoung’s inviting, plump lips. In his subconscious, he grazed his teeth against them, the intimacy of the moment turning the corners of his mouth upwards. The closer Felix got to him, the sexier he found him to be.

“But you want to be?”

This time, Felix nodded. Never had he been more sure than while looking at the most beautiful man he had ever seen. So close he could almost taste him. And if that wasn’t sign enough already, the prominent tent in his pants at the simple touch of his hips assured him.

He wanted Wooyoung, more than he had ever wanted anyone else.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

“That’s good. I can work with that.”

Leaning in their eyes met as Felix took in what was happening. Like the romance novel moment he had always dreamed of, seconds turned minutes, and moments turned into a lifeline. And then, finally, after hours of distant pining, Wooyoung closed the gap between them.

Now, Felix had kissed many people before. Cassidy, at 14, under the old cherry tree in his backyard while reading his favourite anime. Emily at 15 in more places than he could remember. And many others since. Girls, exclusively.

Though right now, as he tasted Wooyoung for the first time it finally dawned on him. The sweetness of his scent, the rum on his lips and the coke in his breath. This was what a kiss should feel like. This was what desire was supposed to feel like.

They deepened the kiss, tongues brushing lips, and Felix reached for Wooyoung’s neck. He ran his hands through the man’s hair, mouths moving in unison as silent whimpers escaped his lips. When Wooyoung pulled away, it was to catch his breath while also searching for a hint of regret in Felix’s features. When he couldn’t find anything but lust, he smirked, reconnecting his lips to the other’s.

Hands clawed at and bodies moved against one another as desperate whines filled the room. Mainly Felix’s, but who could blame him? Every single one of Wooyoung’s movements was the perfect calculation. He knew through and through what he was doing. Wooyoung clawed at Felix, pulling him into his body and providing his aching erection with much-needed friction. Semi-aroused for the better part of the evening, finally, he got relief from the discomfort.

Pulling Felix’s hair and tipping his head back, Wooyoung’s lips moved to the side of his neck. All the while, Felix kept his hands in Wooyoung’s hair, pulling him even closer and not letting him go.

“Fuck…” Felix slurred when the other sucked at his skin, trying to mark him for later. In the past, he hated having hickeys on his neck. Others knowing he had made out with his girlfriend had always made him uncomfortable. With Wooyoung, he couldn’t deny that he loved the thought of people knowing he belonged to someone. Or at least had done so for a brief moment in time.

Wooyoung’s hands fisted Felix’s shirt as he inched it up before checking in with the blonde, “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Please, take it off already.”

“Getting hot?” Wooyoung asked with a smirk, getting his answer once Felix nodded with a thick swallow. “Good.”

Once the fabric landed on the floor, Wooyoung lingered to take in the view. He had expected many things from the closeted nerdy boy, but not this. Not a full-on six-pack, tensing as he let his fingertips wander over his hot skin.

“Damn. Who would have thought?” The thoughts leaving Wooyoung’s brain without a filter made Felix blush. It was one thing, hearing how well-built he was from someone else. But someone he deemed the hottest person he had ever laid eyes on? That did something to him alright. And when Wooyoung leaned down to let his perky tongue run over the bulges, that did a whole other thing to him.

“Fuck… More, please.”

“Patience. I have a lot more to give you,” Wooyoung told him with a smirk as he pushed Felix onto the mattress and sank to his knees. This view was heavenly, straight out of a porno, and Felix felt like he was dreaming again. The whole situation was surreal.

Looking up at the blond, Wooyoung pulled him down for another kiss before focusing on his pecs. He took his sweet time worshipping Felix’s chest, his nipples and abs. Electric shocks rushed straight through Felix’s spine towards the top of his head. Wooyoung couldn’t get enough, spending a few extra seconds kissing his abdominal muscles until a layer of spit and sweat covered them.

“Please…” The silent prayer escaped Felix like a mantra. He’d come in his pants if Wooyoung didn’t do something soon and that was definitely not how he wanted this first time to end. Bad enough his first first time (a few years ago with Emily in the backseat of his father’s Toyota) had ended that way. Another taste of that embarrassment would have been too much to overcome.

“You think you’re ready for this?”

“I was born ready. Just— do something, please.”

“Oh, I’ll be doing much more than just something.”

Wooyoung opened Felix’s pants, dragging them over his thighs and towards the floor. Once the jeans had gone, Felix noticed he was almost entirely naked while Wooyoung was far from it. Without a second thought, he pulled the man’s shirt up, and over his head. To even it out, if you will. Now, not only their bodies but their pure skin was connecting. No restraints, no barriers. Only the two of them.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? Let me know if you want me to do something different.”

As sweet as Felix identified the assurance to be, it was much unneeded. The second Wooyoung pulled him out of his briefs—tip red and leaking—he licked a thick stripe up the underside. That’s when Felix knew this would be excruciating in the best way immaginable.

Wooyoung worked him with so much knowledge and understanding of the male anatomy. It felt like he was inside Felix’s body, metaphorically. He knew exactly where to lick, where to suck and how to work him so he would fall apart below him. Felix’s eyes stayed glued to the beauty, watching him suck on his length and take him down his throat. As though he had never done anything else.

The past blowjobs Felix had received—which there were quite a few, thanks to his charming personality and sweet looks—had been good. He couldn’t lie that he had enjoyed every one of them, though it had never been this mind-numbing. Wooyoung had a technique to his movements only someone with a dick could come up with. Someone who had experienced many a blowjob first-hand— Felix was sure of that.

Spit slid down his length as Wooyoung navigated him deeper with each thrust, hands pumping what he couldn’t fit. His eyes filled with utter and total lust, gazes meeting when he looked up at Felix with a blurriness to his vision. It was a sight Felix had never seen—so pretty and feral. Enough to make him burst on the spot.

However, he couldn’t let that happen.

Felix’s hand on Wooyoung’s cheek urged him to let him fall from his mouth, cock glistening in a beautiful glow. He leaned down and connected their mouths as he tasted himself on Wooyoung’s tongue. Never had he tasted so delicious.

“Good?” Wooyoung asked as though he hadn’t made Felix see stars. Right now, he wasn’t sure he could ever feel as good again.

“So, so good.”

They shared a short moment of silence while Felix scooted back on the bed until he reached the headboard. Wooyoung situated himself above Felix’s lap as they continued their heated make-out session.

Felix admired Wooyoung’s broad chest and sculptured pecs while he planted wet kisses against his jaw. With as much confidence as Wooyoung presented, Felix wasn’t surprised his beauty continued past his face. Although he was still in awe of the perfect piece of art that was Wooyoung’s body. So chiselled, so muscular, so masculine. A dream come true in the most literal sense.

Delicate fingers ran over Felix’s stomach and snapped him out of his daydream. His abs tightened when he felt Wooyoung reach back and wrap his digits around his length.

“Oh, God.” Wooyoung seemed to enjoy the teasing too much, a triumphant grin on his features at the heightened reactivity in Felix’s expression. “Please. I— God.”

The grunt leaving Felix was nothing short of animalistic as Wooyoung’s thumbed over the head.

“You were saying?”

“I need you. Please.”

Bringing his hands back to his front, Wooyoung ended every direct skin contact to Felix. The loss of the physical component refocused all their senses while the fog in their brains lifted a little.

“You sure you want your first time to be drunk at a frat party?”

Felix appreciated Wooyoung’s caution, heart swelling as he wondered how he had deserved someone so considerate. A stranger, yes, but the most respectful one. However, this was hardly his first time. His body count filled all of one five-fingered hand. And even though this felt different, he was well aware of the vulnerability he exposed himself to.

“First of all, I’m not that drunk. See?” Felix straightened up as he positioned his pointer fingers at the corners of his peripheral vision. Bringing them together to touch right before his nose, he proofed his hypothesis. Much to Wooyoung’s amusement, who giggled at the adorable action. “Second, this isn’t my first time. I’ve done this before. With girls, yes. But I know what I’m getting myself into. And third, I really fucking want you to fuck me. Like yesterday.”

Opening up to Wooyoung seemed so easy after he had literally sucked his cock mere moments earlier. The guy’s sweet personality made it much easier for Felix to voice his wishes. He was sure about this.

Apparently, Wooyoung understood so much.

“Okay. But only under one condition.” Wooyoung’s fingers ran between Felix’s pecs and down his adonis belt. “You are the one doing the fucking this time. I have nothing to prep you with, and you want your first time to be slow, believe me. Ergo, you’re topping.”

“Alright,” Felix gave in with a laugh. If that’s what Wooyoung wanted to do, then Felix was content with being the penetrator rather than the penetrated. He also couldn’t deny the skip of his heartbeat when Wooyoung suggested there would be a second time. “One more thing. What’s topping?”

Eyes widening in amusement, Wooyoung couldn’t help but giggle at the younger’s words. “God, you’re innocent. Good thing you have me to show you everything you need to know.”

Rolling off Felix’s body, Wooyoung rid himself of his remaining clothes— jeans and underwear landing on top of Felix’s pile. With his free hand, Wooyoung reached for the nightstand and rummaged through its content with a hopeful expression.

“Come on, San-ie. Don’t disappoint me right now.” After a few seconds, his face lit up while he pulled lube and a condom from the drawer. “Do I know my best friend or what?”

“San. Is that the pink-haired guy?”

“Yup. I dyed it myself. You like it?” Wooyoung asked as he handed Felix the condom.

“It suits him well.” He rolled the piece of latex over himself with vigour while Wooyoung opened the lube and began spreading it between his cheeks. “So, this is his room? He doesn’t mind us using his bed?”

“Oh, I’m counting on it. San used mine so often, with so many different women, he should be paying half of my rent.” Felix chuckle was dark, eyes focusing on Wooyoung once he was back on top of him. “But enough about him.”

Felix’s eyes ran down Wooyoung’s naked form as he felt himself twitch against thin air. For a few rose-coloured seconds, he let himself enjoy the view of a beautiful man on top of him. His hands roamed over the older’s thighs, feeling the texture of his smooth, sun-kissed skin. He could have spent hours exploring every crevice of Wooyoung’s body.

In the dim lightening of the room, Wooyoung looked ethereal, muscular statue and pretty face only further continued in the shape of his cock. In no porn had Felix ever seen someone so enchanting, mouth watering at the mere sight of his erection. As much as Wooyoung had focused on him within the previous moments, Felix couldn’t shake the need to do the same for him. His own arousal pushed past its limits by the thought of making Wooyoung feel good.

Hands wandering further up his thighs, Felix soon reached the base of his dick. With one questioning look followed by an agreeing hum, Felix finally touched him.

He went slow at first, testing the waters and Wooyoung’s reactions to figure out what he liked. It took him not a minute to do so. Working Wooyoung the same way he worked himself in moments of privacy did the trick. It almost came natural to him as he collected the guy’s pre-cum to smear it over his length, hand pumping from base to tip in short, rhythmic motions.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty.”

The words were as much unsolicited as they were unintentional, though Wooyoung enjoyed the compliment. A blush appeared on his cheeks as he closed the gap, pushing his hungry mouth against Felix’s.

“How about you fuck me and see how much prettier I can become.”

Felix, yet again, felt himself twitch at the crudeness of the words, proving to himself that, yes. He might have a thing for dirty talk. Though that realisation was for another day to explore. With his bottom lip between his teeth, Wooyoung shimmied down his body until he reached his lap. Squirting some of the lube onto his palm, Wooyoung lost no time to massage it into Felix’s length.

“Ready?”

“God, yes.”

As Wooyoung sunk all the way to complete fullness, Felix realised that was a lie. He could have never prepared for the feeling of Wooyoung’s snug hole, so much tighter than anything he had ever felt around himself before. His hands flew to the older’s thighs as he moved up and down and steadied himself by clawing his nails into Felix’s skin.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“You have no idea how amazing you feel,” Wooyoung agreed with a moan, hands resting on Felix’s stomach for support. “You think you can move? Meet me in the middle?”

“I don’t even know if I can breathe right now.”

His words were met with a giggle, though despite his inability to think, Felix lifted his hip up to meet him. Moving against gravity was more demanding than he had anticipated, but the look of pure bliss on Wooyoung’s face made it worthwhile.

He definitely hadn’t lied when he said he’d become even prettier while fucked out.

They soon found a rhythm that was comfortable for either. Still, Felix knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Not when Wooyoung caressed all his senses so perfectly, eyes, ears, hands, mouth and mind filled with nothing but him. The world stood still around them, entirely immersed in the moment.

One particularly sharp thrust poked Felix’s attention, tip hitting a spot within Wooyoung that made him throw his head back with a whimper. His body trembled under Felix’s palms, abdominal muscles pulling Wooyoung forward and crouching over the younger. At first, Felix believed whatever he had done had hurt Wooyoung. Once the older opened his eyes—gaze veiled in animalistic hunger—Felix understood it wasn’t a grunt of pain.

“Was that…”

“My prostate? Fuck, yes.” Stilling on top of him, Wooyoung needed to rest for a second. Right when he took up his previous movements, Felix fell back into the same rhythm. Five thrusts in, the same thing happened again, though Wooyoung didn’t stop this time. To say that the sight was divine would have been a crude understatement. “Fuck… Touch me, baby. Please!”

The first time Wooyoung begged him for something—rather than the other way around—Felix identified another new kink. This was all new anyways, and Wooyoung still unleashed underlying desires Felix hadn’t even known existed.

Felix’s hands flew to Wooyoung’s dick, stroking it in unison with his thrusts. And like that, the older fell apart on top of him.

Felix had only ever seen a man cum through the screen of his laptop. It had seemed so fake, the whimpering and grunting way too excessive to be genuine. Or so he thought.

When Wooyoung hit his high, he completely slumped with a groan in Felix’s ear as he released onto his stomach. Hot spurts painted his abs in white, running between the crevices and towards his navel—and there was so much of it. Felix wasn’t quite sure if this was still considered healthy.

Despite being in a state of utter bliss, Wooyoung kept moving, dragging out his orgasm and urging Felix towards his own. The sight and noises would have gotten him there as was. The added pleasure of Wooyoung’s tired hole clenching and his intense eyes eventually launched him into his sweet, sweet release.

Panting beside each other, they tried catching their breaths for a few minutes. It could have been hours, for all Felix cared. He couldn’t have been trusted with anything right now, not even telling the time.

At some point, Felix cleaned himself before reclaiming his position under Wooyoung, with the older’s head propped on his chest.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Chuckling filled the room as their gazes fixated on the ceiling. Wooyoung pressed kisses against Felix’s chest on occasion, a sweet gesture that was much appreciated. The longer they remained entangled, listening to each other’s breathing, the faster Felix’s mind spun. The kissing, the tension, the desire. Everything was so fresh in his mind but, at the same time, felt so far away. He couldn’t deny that after finally figuring out why everyone was so obsessed with sex, he couldn’t wait to experience it again.

Wooyoung figured Felix’s mind out with one short look at his lap.

“You’re still hard.”

It wasn’t so much still as it was again, his body visibly not done yet despite having reached a peak minutes ago.

“Because you’re still pretty.”

The explanation forced Wooyoung’s cheeks into another blush as he kissed Felix, softer this time but just as passionate. Climbing back on top of him, Wooyoung nipped at Felix’s bruised neck, making him moan at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a bitch to cover up tomorrow,” Wooyoung recognised with a giggle as his gaze met Felix’s. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright. I like having a visual reminder for the next few days.”

“Well, if that’s so…”

Trailing off, Wooyoung leaned back down, sucking on Felix’s chest. A red bruise appeared within seconds of him biting and licking over the flesh, Felix holding him close by his hair to keep him going. Any direct skin contact Wooyoung gave him Felix couldn’t get enough of. He wanted to live in this moment for as long as possible.

The fire in his stomach reignited when the older licked over his nipples, swirling the buds between his lips. The shock waves coursing through Felix reached his cock, which twitched in excitement.

Yup, he definitely wasn’t done for today.

While Wooyoung kissed his way all over Felix’s chest, the younger reentered heaven. He couldn’t help but ponder what else there was he hadn’t tried yet. Like giving blowjobs. Or whatever the antonym of topping was. He couldn’t quite wait to figure it out, although some higher power forced patience on him.

Felix wanted to ask Wooyoung if he could taste him, but he didn’t get there. Before anything else could happen, the door to the room opened with a creek, and Felix’s head snapped up. His eyes darted to the entrance, shock written on his face as his gaze met the intruder’s.

He couldn’t quite tell whether you had recognised him. Although the lighting most likely wasn’t dark enough to shield his identity. You must have identified him. But he couldn’t react fast enough. As soon as you had appeared, you muttered a perplexed “I’m sorry” and pulled the door shut. Leaving Felix with only fear and a hard-on he wasn’t so sure would find any true relief for the rest of the night

Next Chapter >>> coming soon

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geminison · 10 months

Text

modern-ish things I would like to show dishonored characters

I got inspired by this lovely post by @dogg-teethh and kinda made my own thing but with dishonored protagonists and some side characters so, low and behold

Daud

blues music in general, he would enjoy brooding while listening, and Fleetwood Mac

thriller movies, can't abide the mysteries so would be glued to the screen until the very end. would get mad if it ends on unexplainable cliffhanger

radio dramas, something to fill the silence while doing paperwork

antidepressants, no comments

rope bondage, but not in a sexual way (yeah, I've seen it in ff and thought, yep, seems like his thing)

Corvo

90s fashion, a bit awkward but appealing somehow?

David Bowie, that's so specific? complex and diverse but funky

takeout food, he doesn't really cook, has terrible eating behavior and just plainly starvs when there no food around, so that would be helpful

absurdism, whole "acceptance without humility" thing? i dunno

Lord of the Rings, a small hero with a great burden and greater stakes, it would resonate

Emily

punk rock, 80s pop, industrial and Corvo would also show her "Rebel Rebel", she would vibe with it

Satoshi Kon's movies, great female characters and a bit of insanity

comics, variety of styles and stories to tell! she did enjoy drawing while she was younger, maybe it would inspire her to pick a pencil again

asian cuisine, a lot of different flavours, I wonder how she would like it

marine biology, so much info about whales and other weird ocean creatures, again little Emily would be so happy

headphones, she would feel even cooler while jumping from one roof to another and kicking asses

Billie

airplanes, speed, freedom and views! you are already a captain of the ship, time to tame the sky!

anarchism, yeah, fuck the government!

family therapy, grab your old man by the hand and fucking go, you need it, it wouldn't be easy but please

Killing Eve

heavy metal music and jazz, Emily and Corvo approve. Daud, well, tolerates, it's a bit too much for him

Outsider

video games, all kinds of it!

DnD, especially GM role, you don't have to be a god to feel a little bit like one, and he also has this dramatic side it would def suite him

sci-fi and horror genres

techno, ambient and modern classical music

programming and hacking, he's a nosy young man, he'd like to know all your secrets, and it's just fun ehehe

Delilah

big fashion shows for stylish and powerful lady

therapy, again, no comments

expensive cars that people own and don't drive

Florence + the Machine and MARINA

iPad, Apple pencil and some software for drawing digitally

social media

#dishonored #dishonored 2 #daud #corvo attano #emily kaldwin #billie lurk #the outsider #delilah copperspoon #if you have something else in mind please share it would be so interesting to see what others think!#corvo and daud predictably were the easy ones #then emily and the outsider were alright #and in the end i struggled with billie and delilah #but i was adamant on including them all so yeah #a good half of these things might be too specific #i don't have access to my drawing tablet so i entertain myself by writing silly little posts

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mrsrdlw · 3 months

Text

“You look more like Kirk Hammet”

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

another day, another fluff fic 🤭

wc: 1.2k

author’s note- The reader is Dustin’s sister!!!

Enjoy!

*********

Now, you were at your work, at Family Video, just waiting for him. It was like a routine. Every friday he would walk through the door and search for movies for his weekend.

At first, you only knew Eddie because of his reputation. "Eddie 'the freak' Munson" as the people in your school used to say. Honestly, you never knew why people would call him that. Only because he liked to play Dungeons & Dragons? Your brother did too, and he was no freak! Was he incredibly annoying? Yes! But it's not like he would worship the devil for that.

But with time, you got to know him a little bit better and you got to see he was nothing but a sweetheart. That's probably when you started to crush on him. You were in the senior year and, consequently, would share classes with him. It's not like you would talk to him all the time, but the times you did, even if it was just to say that he dropped his keys on the floor, your heart would melt.

On this friday, Dustin said that he wanted to come with you for work because he wanted to talk to Steve. So there he was, whispering something to Steve while Robin were organizing the new movies in the shelves and you were just singing along with the radio, which was playing a song of Mötley Crüe, a band you definitely didn't only like because of Nikki Sixx.

When the bell rang, announcing that someone was entering, you stopped singing and turned around seeing him walking to you. You could feel your cheeks getting red.

"Hey you. How was your week?" he said placing the movies he got in the last week in the counter

"Hi Eddie. It was good, thanks." You said looking at his hands full of rings

"Do you mind if i leave this here while i look for some movies?" he asked already looking to the horror section

"No, not at all!" You said giving him a smile which he reciprocated. You felt your stomach do a flip

As he walked to the shelves, Robin got close to you, giving you a mischievous smirk.

"What?" you asked and she only raised her eyebrows. "Oh please Robin, we're at work."

"I didn't say anything! I just think that, you know... you should go for it. You have a shot!" She said while you both looked at him trying to make a decision between two movies.

"Oh yeah, like if thats true! I don't think i have and honestly i don't think i want to figure it out." You say putting your hair into a ponytail "What if he reject me?"

"You'll only know if you ask babe." She said going to the back to get more boxes

Of course you wanted to say something to him, but how could you? You didn't know how things could go if he said he wasn't interested on you. It's not like he was going to spread gossip, he could never. If you knew one thing about him, it was that he was not like the jerks at school, he was respectful and gentle. Well, at least with you. All you got....

"Y/n!" He called you making you snap out of your trance.

"Sorry. I was just... thinking." you said getting the movies on his hands. Your fingers touched for a moment and you could still feel the warmth from his hands.

"What got you all up in your head?" He said taking his wallet and with a little concern in his face.

"Oh nothing. Just, stupid teenage girl stuff." You said laughing a little and he didn't say anything else.

The song in the radio was another one from Mötley Crüe and you hummed the song while handing him the movies he got.

"You like Mötley Crüe?" He said trying to see if he heard you hum the song or if he was just mistaken.

"Tell that to her bigger then 40 inches Nikki Sixx poster in her bedroom wall" Robin said behind you looking to the computer.

"Robin! Shut up!" You scolded her. It was not even that big "I'm sorry" you said looking at Eddie who was getting amused

"Oh yeah? Nikki Sixx, huh?" He said giggling "I look a little like him, don't i?"

You study his face for a second, as if you needed to. "You look more like Kirk Hammet"

"Oh yeah, this one is making company in the wall for Nikki too!"

"ROBIN!" You were getting redder by each second. So embarrassed to look at the man in front of you. But he found the whole situation very funny.

"Well, i'll take that as a compliment." He said looking at your eyes "So, Metallica too? You don't seem to like this kind of music"

"I wouldn't say that i'm a huge fan of them, i only know a couple songs and that's it. It's not like i listen to metal all the time like you. I only have the posters because i, uh, i think they're pretty" You said nervously talking before thinking and not really realizing what you're saying.

"It a'right. They're pretty metal!" He said but got interrupted by you brother

"Eddie! What are you doing here?" Dustin said happy to see his friend. You didn't know how they knew each other

"What do you think?" He said showing the video tapes on his hands "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here with my sister! Do you know her?" Dustin said looking at you

"Y/n is your sister? Of course i know her! How come i didn't know you were related?" he said looking back at you

"You've never asked if i had a sister."

"How do you know him?" I asked curious as well, too confused to connect the dots

"He's my dungeon master y/n, i told you i got in a d&d club!" Now everything connected. "Can i talk to you? i had a incredible idea for a campaign!" Your brother said while Eddie head out of the store

"Sure. Bye gorgeous!" He said winking at you and that was it. You were melted inside.

"What are you waiting for? He's flirting with you! It's your chance." Robin said giving you courage to go after him before he left

You stormed out of Family Video when Duntin came in again. There he was ready to leave when he saw you.

"Hey, uhm, hi." You said too nervous going to his opened window. His van was tall so you were face to face with him.

How could he get even more hot with sunglasses on. You had to be tough.

"So i, uh, i was just wondering, you know, if there was any chance of us going out sometime, even to watch a movie if you want, i just really like you and"... You were cut. Speaking as fast as you could, trying to be brave, you didn't realize he shut your mouth with a kiss.

When he let go of you, leaving you speechless he only smiled at you "You're so cute when you're nervous. I'll pick you up at seven, how about that? You can come to my house to watch these movies i got."

"I'd love that!" You said in a state of haze. Looking at him passionately

"Then it's a date. I'll see you sweetheart" and he drove away.

You stood out there, watching him leave, touching your lips to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"I told you, you had a shot" Robin came to you putting her arms around your shoulders .

#eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #friends to lovers #kirk hammett #nikki sixx

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tasteracha · 7 months

Text

kinktober - day ten

kink: voyeurism with jeongin

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. jeongin is a bit of a creep. slight sub!innie. afab!reader.

jeongin was an amazing roommate. he was a perfect roommate, by all means. he cooked and cleaned up after himself, he never walked past the foyer with his shoes on, he left little notes for you all over the place with badly drawn foxes on them. he watched your favorite shows and cuddled you when you were sad, even though he claims that he doesn’t like skinship.

he never does anything to make you uncomfortable, easing your worries about living with a guy. he respects your boundaries, and apologizes immediately if he ever breaks them accidentally. the only problem you could think of was your insurmountable crush on him that would never amount to anything, but you were doing your best to get over it. despite never bringing anyone else home, he never showed any interest in you.

or, so you thought.

you had found it a little weird to masturbate when you had first moved in together; you had never had a roommate before, so you didn’t really know the social cues around this kind of thing. as long as he didn’t know, it wouldn’t be a problem right?

you had started doing it only when he wasn’t home, and while you weren’t addicted to orgasms once every couple weeks wasn’t enough sometimes. you’d wait until he went to sleep, but he had the annoying habit of needing to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and you were always scared when you heard his footsteps outside of your room as he was stumbling to your shared bathroom across the hall. eventually, you got comfortable enough that you just did it whenever you pleased, knowing that if he caught you the only thing that would happen was a teasing remark here and there about it.

sometimes his footsteps would pause right outside your door, like he was checking to see if he had accidentally woken you up. you thought it was kind of sweet, at first. but he would linger, to the point where you thought that he could have been sleep-walking. you would pause with your dildo halfway inside of you or frantically turn off your vibrator and wait with paused breath until he walked away, and you would sigh into your pillow. it felt wrong to continue, but the fight between your embarrassment and a potential orgasm usually ended up with the latter as the winner.

you think you knew what he was doing far earlier than now, but some sick part of your mind liked it too much to fully identify it. he was listening to you, he probably had his ear pressed up to the door to hear the way your breath would catch when you twisted your dildo just right or the whines you couldn’t hold back when you finally came.

you suppose your lack of confrontation made him a bit bolder, because his steps started getting a little louder and you began seeing the shadow of his feet under your door.

you waited, day after day, for him to slip up so that you could finally catch him in the act, wanting to reveal him with his hands painted red. the opportunity came on an otherwise unassuming day, with you lying on your back with your hands between your naked legs and your shirt bunched up under your neck - his phone pinged. a loud, lingering bell-like sound that seemed to echo through your room. you hear him curse under his breath and move to do what you hope is turning off the sound of his notifications. he doesn’t move, both of your breaths are held as you wait for something, but he lets his out earlier and remains at the door.

you slide off the bed, leaving your dildo on the sheets that you’d definitely need to wash after this and padding to your door on socked feet. you’re quiet, your steps not making a sound as you creep your hand to the door and wrench it open to reveal jeongin almost leaning up into the space the door just was in. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps, his eyes walking down to your bare legs and the hem of your t-shirt just covering your dripping pussy.

he shifts on his legs, eyes widening a bit as the shock of being caught settles in.

“i-” he starts, his words getting stuck in his throat. what would he even have to say about this? how could he possibly explain this violation of privacy, even if you weren’t nearly as bothered by it as you should be?

“what are you doing?” you ask, knowing exactly what he was up to but wanting to hear him say it himself.

“i was,” he clears his throat, a red flush making its way up his neck. “sleepwalking?”

“hmm, i don’t think so,” you wave your hand towards him, gesturing to the way he was clearly very aware of his surroundings. “do you know what i think? i think you were being a creepy, disgusting man and listening to me while i masturbated. and not for the first time.”

“shit,” he squeezes his eyes shut, tight like he was trying to cut his vision of you off permanently. the two of you sit in excruciatingly silence for a moment, him opening and closing his mouth a few times, scrambling to find something to say. “i’m so sorry-“

“do you want to watch?” you ask, cutting off his useless apology, the words leaving your mouth before you can think about what you’re offering. “i didn’t finish.”

“what?” he asks, the disbelievement overriding the panic on his face. “you just found out that i’ve been a creep and you’re offering me to do that?”

“i’m going to come with or without you,” you eye his crotch, his cock tenting up in his sweatpants, and you can almost see the timer in his head run out before he brushes past you into your room. “and give me some credit; i’ve known about you for weeks. you’re not as sly as you think you are.”

he ignores you in favor of crashing into your desk chair, a place he’s sat in several times before but never for this. you crawl back onto the bad, resuming the position you were in before. you keep your shirt further down this time though, covering you until your lower belly.

you felt so exposed like this, despite him having heard you do this before it was different having him see it, witness you sliding your dildo into your hole right in front of him. the fit feels tighter, the give is harder as you fit it inside of you - was it nervousness? you’ve never had trouble with this particular toy before.

when it bottoms out he whines, his hand moving to his crotch before moving away, like he was looking for some kind of permission. cute, you think, now he’s looking for approval.

“you can touch yourself,” you say, words catching on your own pleasure as you begin to pump the dildo in and out of you, faster with each thrust. there’s a wet patch shining through his sweatpants now, and you feel a little bit of pity for him. “take your cock out and show me how hard i make you.”

you don’t know where these words are coming from, you’ve never been this bold in your life, always relying on partners to bring dirty talk to the table, but he had this way of bringing out sides of you that you never thought were possible.

“fuck,” he takes his cock out, stroking it a couple times before rubbing his thumb over his slit to collect the moisture there. “i can’t believe i’m doing this, feels like a dream.”

“try harder,” you groan out, throwing your head back when you twist your wrist just right.

“think about you all the time,” he says, almost babbling, his eyes never leaving your pussy as he strokes himself faster. “want to do so many things to you, can’t get you out of my head.”

“tell me,” you breathe out, the idea of him thinking about you making your head spin in circles.

“do you know how fucking hot you are, walking around without a bra all the time?” he sighs, his hand not losing pace on his cock. “i want to squeeze your tits, whenever i want. when i walk past you, when we’re sitting on the couch together, when you’re asleep next to me, fuck.”

you want to say do it, i want you to, it’s all i want, but he keeps going.

“when you wear those short, the tiny ones,” his eyes stray to your thighs, the soft, unmarked skin there. “want to pull you down into my lap, leave bruises on your legs that last for days.”

“keep going,” you all but beg, his words hitting you like a tidal wave, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you’ve lost control of the situation but you don’t really care. “please.”

“when- when you’re in the shower, and you make those noises,” he’s visibly affected by how close you are, by the way you throw your head back when you move your free hand to rub at your clit. “wanna get in there with you, want to hear you moan and whine and press you up against the shower wall-”

you cut him off with a gasped out fuck as you finally come, wrenching the dildo out as your hips buck up. you keep your fingers circling your clit as you ride it out, but you keep your eyes on him so you can see him come except -

he doesn’t. his hand is off of his dick and he’s clenching the armrests of the chair like he would pass out if he wasn’t. you fix him with a look when you come down from your high, confused and a little offended.

“i didn’t want to-“ he starts, looking away with a flush to his cheeks. “i didn’t know if i was allowed.”

“oh, honey,” you melt, emotions bubbling up in your chest. he’s so cute. “of course you’re allowed. but wouldn’t you rather fuck me instead of your hand?”

kinktober masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #jeongin imagines #jeongin smut #kinktober 2023 #stray kids x y/n #jeongin x reader #jeongin x you

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usedpidemo · 2 months

Text

More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom.

She absolutely loathes hearing it.

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons.

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout.

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing.

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence.

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk.

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move.

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning.

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place.

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way.

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening.

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall. It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes.

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.”

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.”

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you.

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more.

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself.

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal.

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth.

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you.

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air.

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite.

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go.

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants.

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin.

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths.

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself.

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes,

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.”

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection.

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point.

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.”

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense.

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?”

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her.

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.”

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead.

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.”

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly.

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels.

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her.

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer.

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits.

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building.

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you.

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped.

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor.

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.”

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #nmixx #haewon

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argreion · 1 month

Text

Just a Deal

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — P in V, breeding kink/talk, mating press, cream pies, Leon being old and aching, talks of eating out/cunnilingus, talks of Advil (reader using the deal of Advil jokingly for sex). Leon wondering if he's mid.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.5k

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — Well, this is my somewhat proud attempt to come back to writing smut. I want to write more, so... Yeah, there's that! I'd call this a valiant attempt, y'know? Breeding kink is yummy. Don't murder me if there's a mistake, I haven't written actual smut in so long. :')

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

“Just an idea.” You said, glancing over at the male with a small smirk. Talk of sex over dinner? Maybe you shouldn't have waited till he got home from a mission. Hearing the pop of his back and the pained groans miles away from the apartment. Yet, you have to make a deal sweeter; Advil. The baby he loved, would sing it to sleep if he could. Pop a few and it worked wonders on him.

“That idea is…” What does he respond with? Makes his dick hard? The idea of folding his lover? Tapping his fork against the ceramic—reminds you to scold him later for that. Fine china was getting harder to get, and you’d rather it not have scratches on it when it’s for sale. “I wouldn't mind doing it if you'd want me to. Sounds interesting, doll. Didn’t know you’d like me to ‘ruin your pussy like it’s your last day alive. To fuck your babies into you’.”

“Never say that out loud ever again, my soul left my body for a few seconds.” You sighed, hand already coming to rub your face. Cheeks were flush from the embarrassment of him being blunt. Someone above, please shut this man up.

“I’ll let you finish up here, ‘kay? Don’t keep me waiting too long, supercop.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Two hours later, dinner finished, and clothes are torn and flung away.

Forced into a mating press against your shared bed. Your legs loosely around his hips, moving with each thrust. Balls slapping against your ass as Leon pressed you deeper into the bed. Soft moans came from your lips at his pace. Curling up to hit your core in just the right places. Leaking more than you should’ve, silly little idea.

His hands came to hold your upper back, making your body flush against his. “What, thought you wanted this, doll? Wanted to be full of babies, right?” He taunted, wanting to rub it in your face. Rub it in your face that you weren't ready for him—weren’t ready for subpar dick. You’d thought he’d be slow, boring, but no, someone liked this idea. The idea of breeding had gotten to him. So much so that he manhandled you and did it himself.

“Mmmm, look at you, already willing to become a mama. Can’t wait to cream this pussy...” Leon leaned in, his lips brushing against your ears. “We aren’t wasting any drop either, doll. You know the rule. Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.”

His chest rumbled as he felt you tighten around him. Attempting to milk him of his worth. He was doing something right. Wringing out moans from your lips left and right. Was doing something right with the way this was going.

“You like that, don't you?” He purred, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. Sweating at the extortion of his aging body. Nipping at the skin, he quickened his pace. Little red marks litter your upper torso, shoulder-to-shoulder. “Didn’t know I had a whore in my apartment. Should’ve thought of this sooner.”

You moaned in response, the lewdity had you rolling. ‘Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.' It was bad that your baby fever had already made you so… Aroused. Choose a mating press over anything else for merely that—breeding kink on an all-time high from that. Over the kitchen counter, on his motorcycle, in the car, anywhere. The thoughts running through your head made you clench, erupting a groan from Leon's lips.

“Seems my question is already answered—you are a whore. A cute one at that.”

Leon purred in delight, satisfied by your response. Hands moving from behind your back to beside your head. Engaging your head as he maneuvered himself comfortably so that he could get rougher. Force himself deeper, make him feel like he could do something.

Yet, when someone musters up all their strength; means they crash and fall harder—especially on their lover.

With each harsh thrust, Leon could feel himself being drained. His old age was catching up to him, as was the ache in his back. Beginning to bubble up from his lower back to the beginning of his spine. Arched over his love like a cat hissing in old-timey movies. Your fingers grasping at his back and legs tightening around him. Exposing your neck to the open-mouthed kissing he brought on you. Stubble brushing against your delicate skin, vulnerable to a quick hickey.

More moans came from your mouth as he buried himself inside you. Sent you spiraling with each slam of his hips. A cloudy ring started to form and leak down onto the bed. Needed this more often, needed to be manhandled.

“Almost there…” He panted after each word he spoke. You could feel pity in your chest as you watched him struggle. Stamina wasn’t his strong suit anymore, sadly. Reminds you of when he was better in his younger days. Twenty-seven and lasting two to four rounds.

Might buy an extra bottle of Advil, just for him.

In the back of his mind, he was cursing himself out for not being you to a climax. He knew worth wasn't purely based on orgasms or how experienced he was. Gosh darn it, though, made him feel horrible. Useless, or some other word Rebecca used that he couldn't remember.

Being brought out of his thoughts by the feeling of nails piercing his skin would leave a mark he’d have to explain at work. Your back arching into his chest surprised him—he had done it. Blue eyes widened as you seized in his grasp, mouth agape as you gushed around him. If he had only recorded this, he'd love every second of it. Imagining you sucking him in every way he could think possible. Oddly, brought a smile to his face, alongside the ego boost.

“That's it, let it out. I gotcha, pretty girl.” Leon whispered, rubbing your cheek as your eyes fluttered. One second they were squeezed shut, and now it felt like he was looking down at the prettiest girl in the world. That pleased look in your eyes made his balls tighten. His eyes fluttered, as his hips stuttered. Oh, fuck him.

“Go ahead and let that pussy cry more for me… So fuckin' gorgeous. Deserves this so badly.”

He'd already reached his peak, cumming inside your walls, panting heavily. Wish he lasted longer than this. Arms encircling your head as he pressed himself fully into you. The sweat from earlier now oozing from the bedsheets. Squeezing his eyes shut as he slowly emptied himself into you. Counting his blessings as you'd nag him to help change the bedsheets later.

The drive slowly faded into stillness. Finally resting inside you as he seemed to come down from the quick high. In some ways, it felt anticlimactic. An anticlimactic filling that leaked down onto the bedsheets. Cloudy ring, now a creamy white. Fresh new stain to add to the collection.

“I'm getting old, aren't I?” Leon asked himself out loud, trying to break the silence. It felt awkward, impregnated—something he didn't like. Too serious for his brain to handle.

“Maybe.” Was all you said, letting out a heavy sigh. “It's certainly getting old that you're laying on me now.”

“Forgot about that, sorry.”

You could feel the bed dripping beside you as he moved off. Letting himself curl up beside you, not wanting to waste a drop in you. Leon felt fragile for some reason, like a shivering old man in your head. Curled up beside his wife—crying, ‘cause he ain't got no one better. Maybe calling him an old man suited Leon now.

“I mean, that wasn't amazing.”

You paused; maybe you should've chosen your words more carefully. Leon was sensitive. Sex didn't feel amazing like it did in books or movies. Could women get post-nut clarity? Was that even a thing? Were you having that, or were you just not womaning? Maybe you should save yourself thinking for another time.

“But you do better than a lot of guys, at least. For a super awkward man, who crashes almost every vehicle he drives, and can't tie a tie, you did well. Mating press might be your forte in sex positions.”

A smile came to your lips, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose. Pleasantries aside, he'd take it over you using a vibrator or dildo. Enjoyed watching it, but hated not being the one to do it. Ok, well, he's just picky in that regard. A bit of a bummer, wouldn't you think?

Well, there was something he wouldn't be bummed out about...

Leaning over, your noses barely touching as you asked the one important question on the tip of your tongue, “If I get you an extra bottle of Advil… Will you eat me out?”

The response couldn't get any better, as he smirked.

“If you get me ice cream, I will.”

“You've got cream right here, dumbass.”

The chuckle that left your lips felt sinister. Followed by a smirk as you straddled him. Hands pressed against the sheets as you rested mere inches above his face. Dripping down onto his dumbfounded face.

“Well? Get to it, lover boy.”

Oh, he loved this game again.

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @rigorwhoring

You're welcome to send an ask or DM to be on my tag list!

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut

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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

Text

platonic yandere! Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warnings: aged-up! reader [in early to late twenties], ooc, overprotective! Alastor, possessive behavior, implied yandere!vox, stalking, knowledge based on the six episodes of the 2024 season.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor and his little darling!

Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing-desk and @isuckatwritingsobenice for providing criticism and feedback.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on for tonight's broadcast :)

Tomorrow was your turn for Show and Tell.

According to Charlie’s lesson plan, it is an activity where your interests and stories are shared with a group of people. But you did not know what you could share with everyone.

They know why you are here at the hotel.

They know you were ex-military.

They know you have prosthetic arms after you lost them in the war.

They know you were an Auto Memory Doll for the Lieutenant’s company.

They know many things about you…what is else there to talk about? You had thought long and hard but nothing came to mind. Your Remington typewriter is only used for work. The only ones who would even be remotely interested in its history were Alastor and Sir Pentious. Including your nightgown and tool kit to fix your hands, there is nothing else in the hotel that is under your possession except for a crimson parasol that the Alastor had gifted to you.

That was when you remembered something. A difficult man who lived by a lake. A man who struggled to write his next play until he asked you to take the pale blue parasol and….

You could show them that. However, there is no lake around the Pride Ring. The closest thing to an ocean was in another ring. Nor is there one here at the hotel because it stood on top of a hill. Yet…there is someone who is capable of conjuring something like that with a snap of his fingers. The Radio Demon.

Would he actually hear your request or simply say ‘no’ with a boisterous laugh was another question entirely. Your redemption was on the line here….at this point….you might have to make a deal with him after all. So you sought him out in his radio station in the hotel’s west wing. You had heard from Niffty that he was planning a special show this evening to celebrate his return. When you knocked on the door, he called to see who is the delightful visitor who has come to see him when he is quite busy at the moment.

“It’s me, sir.” You said. “Permission to enter?” You asked. Some habits were difficult to forget, especially when in the presence of a cannibal gentleman, as Vaggie has referred to Alastor. In the nicest way possible.

You only heard silence on the other side of the door. Assuming that he was not in the mood or struck speechless at the absurdity of your idea, you spoke again. “My apologies, Alastor. I didn't mean to disturb you. I will see you at dinner.”

You took a step away from the door, bowing your head. “I wish you good luck with your radio broadcast.” You turned around, grabbing the wrought-iron railing leading back down to the main floor with your gloved hand. You only took one step when the door leading to Alastor’s office swung open. You looked over your shoulder and saw Alastor leaning out of the doorway, wearing a wide grin as his bright red irises locked onto your gaze. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” You began. “I’ll ask Charlie if I could do something else for my Show and Tell presentation -”

“Nonsense, my dear!” He exclaimed. You watched his lanky form dissipate into wispy darkness, slithering across the floor and beneath your feet. Your mouth opened to interject that it was truly all right, but your body was not listening. Instead of leaving the Radio Demon to his work, you walked back up the stairs and straight into Alastor’s office. But you were not in control of your body. It had moved on its own.

The door closed behind you with a loud click, and you were seated on a couch adjacent to what appeared to be the soundboard. A shadow crawling out from the sleek wooden floor and up the golden bear claw of the furniture, twisting and writhing until he appeared by your side. “I didn’t know you could do that.” You said finally.

“Oh, I can do many things, darling~!” He said, leaning forward. “And do not fret over my listeners, they will get their daily dose of perfection as promised~! Now then, how can I help you?”

“I have an idea.” You replied. You then went on to explain what you wanted to do…but you were not sure if it could be pulled off. You clasped your gloved hands together, squeezing them in your lap. “Please be honest…is it possible for you to do this for me? I am willing to make a deal with you. Not for my soul because it is not worth anything to someone of your caliber as an overlord…but I am willing to do a favor for you.”

He stared at you for a long moment, still smiling as he tilted his head to one side. A high-pitched static noise bounced off of the walls till silence filled the room again.

“In the first place my dear there is no such thing as an unworthy soul, though I could name a few individuals. Certainly not yours. However, I will agree that granting this favor for your soul is asking for too much for something too little. Instead, let’s do a simple deal. Quid pro quo, if you will~! I do this for you, and you will help me as I host my radio show. Bringing me food and water, screening phone calls, the basics. Your choice. And~! Before we agree to this, I must be the one to see this little presentation first. Not even Charlie will see it. It will ruin the fun~!” He held out his hand, green smoke twirling around his gloved fingers. “Do we have a deal?”

You glanced down at his hand, then back at his face before raising your own to your mouth. Tugging the leather glove off your teeth, it fell into your lap. You extended your hand, the dim lights bouncing off of your adamantine skeletal fingers as you gently placed them into his open palm. You looked back at him. “Is this acceptable?” You asked. “Our hands being like this instead of a handshake. I do not want to push any more boundaries or waste your time further.”

Alastor looked down at your hands with a stupefied expression before he hummed, taking your mechanical wrist, holding your hand up and then….folding your hand over his own.

“If you want to make this deal official, both parties must shake hands on it. Finger tapping doesn’t count~!”

You watched the same green smoke from earlier envelop your intertwined hands, shifting into tiny skulls that circled around and around before disappearing entirely. The deal is made. You thought. Then you wondered, why is he still holding your hand?

You looked at him. “Sir?”

“Hm? Oh, my apologies~!” He quickly withdrew his hand, standing up from the couch. You followed suit, confused a little at his sudden actions.

“Now, let’s get started~!” He snapped his fingers again, and the vintage wallpaper of the radio station disappeared, replaced with the open, crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Looking around, you saw that the two of you were standing outside of the hotel. “So…you want to put the ‘lake’ here,” He said, pointing at the open space of the hill going down towards the city. “And you will be using a parasol while…performing this stunt?”

“Yes.” You said. Then you realized that you did not have your own on hand. “It will…make it difficult to perform without it.” And it was how Olive made it home after she had slayed the monster. To return to her father, whom she loved the most in the whole world.

“Fair enough.” Alastor said. “An act can’t be completed without the necessary props~!”

You speculated that him snapping his fingers is either something he enjoyed immensely or it was just how he conjured his powers that were not affiliated with his manipulation of the shadows. You have come to this conclusion after careful observation of him, and your parasol quite literally popped out of thin air and in your hands suddenly.

“Thank you.” You opened the parasol carefully, raising it over your head and now focused entirely on the space where the lake is supposed to be. Alastor hummed, and with the fourth snap of fingers, a foggy and inky body of water appeared several feet from both of you. Then he disappeared, his shadows slithering to the other side. He was ready. But were you? Yes. Yes, you were.

You stared at the water for a moment before taking three steps back, digging the heel of your boots into the ground. You bent your knees.

Then you took off.

Alastor thought you were a sweet little darling. Despite being insightful and a quick learner, however, you were oblivious to the signs of someone who takes an interest in you romantically. But he does not dare think that sending random gifts to the hotel, stalking someone through the cameras around the city whenever you leave the hotel for work or to run errands for Charlie, or even trying to ‘coincidentally’ mention your name and antagonize him on his broadcast qualifies. Alastor knows that Vox is doing it. He knows why, because the clout video podcast is bold to assume that you are his lover, the Radio Demon’s lover.

Ha! No. Not at all. You were simply someone who entertained him and needed protection from licentious fellows who would not hesitate to take advantage of your innocence and ensnare you in a contract. That will not happen. So unless Vox wants to make an appearance on his broadcast as a new voice for all of Hell to hear, the fucking egoistical piece of shit had better keep his distance.

But imagine his surprise when you approached him for help. You, the person who would rather try to figure everything out on your own! Why, he was delighted~!

Granted it was for one of Charlie’s silly exercises, yet how could he not take advantage of this opportunity to get to know his darling a little bit more? So he offered a deal with you, listing the terms and the two of you shook on it…though he had to put your hand around his in a handshake. You were still wary of him, no doubt, and knew he did not like being touched. Suppose there was a benefit of working under Rosie as her secretary in his absence.

No doubt she told stories about you as much as she told him about you. She would go on about how efficient you were, how you always showed up on time and dressed appropriately as per the rules of the Cannibal Colony, etc. Why, she told him so much about you that he had been curious to meet you~!

And he was not disappointed.

Now, as he watched you gracefully leap across the murky lake he had conjured, the parasol held high over your head in your gloved hand, Alastor was spellbound at the sight. His smile grew wider, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. But he refused to allow himself to get dirty again and pay another visit to the tailor; that was why he kept several feet away from the water, and he chose not to appear on the opposite side of the lake, as much as he’d like to. Oh well, there was always next time.

You had almost slipped, however, when your back foot began to loose traction on the water.

Well…nothing wrong with providing a little assistance, as far as he is aware of.

He summoned a tentacle from beneath the lake with a wave of his hand, letting you use it as leverage to bolster your speed and give you the stability needed to make one final leap to the opposite side. And you did, much to his delight and yours. When you smiled brightly at him….well, he was very pleased. He had just witnessed a new expression that he was quite sure no one else has seen since your arrival at the hotel. He chuckled darkly. He watched you walk back to him, face flushed, still clutching the parasol in one hand and the other one raising your skirt so that you wouldn’t tumble over your feet.

My, my, you truly are a fascinating soul.” He remarked, a hint of ominous delight in his voice. He had no doubt that you will dazzle everyone with your performance tomorrow and with his help. Afterwards…well, there will be no way for Vox to interfere. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

Taglist

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@doc-tooth

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #yandere male #platonic yandere #character!reader #violet evergarden!reader #cw possessiveness #tw possessiveness #yandere #ns.fw #forbidden-sunlight #tw stalking #cw stalking #yandere vox x reader #yandere vox

648 notes · View notes

lvlyghost · 7 months

Note

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

1K notes · View notes

chlorinecake · 8 days

Note

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung smut

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months

Text

Ortho: Hello, Mr. Leviathan!

Levi: Hello, Ortho-kun! *chuckles* Good morning!

Ortho: Are you here to play with my brother?

Levi: Yes. And I also need to talk to him about something.

Ortho: In that case, I will wake him up.

Levi: Eh? Why? Is he not awake yet?

Ortho: Well, you played games with him until 4:07AM.

Levi: *awkwardly smiles* Sorry...

Ortho: It's fine! But please try to decrease your game time. My brother is still a human and his health is important to me and everyone else here in Ignihyde.

Levi: Yeah. I'll keep that in mind.

Idia: Huh? Leona has teamed up with Belphegor? What does that mean?

Levi: You know what it is!

Idia: Yeah, I get you. But I don't think it would be ideal for the Prefect to add another lover to their existing number of husbands.

Levi: Do you honestly think that is the case?

Idia: What?

Levi: Seven avatars of hell, the future king of Devildom, the demon butler who can manipulate time and space, the most powerful sorcerer, one archangel, and one reaper wife who likes to set up traps.

Levi: And on top of that, there are two who are crushing on them from both Devildom and Celestial Realm.

Idia: ...

Idia: Geez.

Levi: Right? And I can't blame them because MC is so amazing and you couldn't help but to love them—

Idia: Time, time!

Levi: Huh?

Idia: You're not helping your case, Levi. Every time you say MC is amazing, the listener will be interested and it would urge them to know them better, to form a relationship with them.

Idia: And with the way you rant right now, it seems to me that you are recruiting me to be their boyfriend.

Levi: If you can't beat them, join them.

Idia: Noo! MC is already tired with all of these things! They don't need another socially-awkward gamer lover and a lazy lion prince!

Idia: Give. Them. A. Break!

Levi: ...

Levi: Idia-kun... You really care about MC... *sniffles* *smiles* Are you sure you don't want to be their boyfriend?

Idia: Ask someone who's more willing and wouldn't mind sharing a relationship with a bunch.

Levi: If you're referring to that dragon guy, no way. Nuh-uh. I don't like him.

Idia: Malleus? Why?

Levi: He's got a long lifespan.

Idia: ...

Idia: Wait.

MC: *has finished the necessary steps to become a noble and has gone straight to their third year's class*

MC: *didn't notice that they're still wearing their formal demon outfit*

The third-years: ...

MC: Do you have any questions before we start this class?

Trey: *raises his hand*

MC: Yes, Trey?

Trey: Um... Are you forgetting something?

MC: Hmm... No. I think I have everything here.

Trey: O-Oh... Haha... Okay.

MC: ...

MC: What are you all staring at? *raises an eyebrow*

Rook: *raises his hand*

MC: Yes, Rook?

Rook: Beauté, Trickster! Admirably sinful even!

MC: Huh?

Lilia: *who's giving Malleus a teasing look*

Malleus: *his cute, little expression while staring at them*

MC: Cater, why didn't you tell me that I looked weird earlier?

Cater: I was busy admiring your pact marks.

MC: You were staring at my leg?

Cater: And shoulders. 😩🙏

MC: ...

MC: Did I really look that good?

Cater: Yes, bestie~ We almost kneeled in front of you.

MC: ...

MC: You're exaggerating.

Cater: But it's truue~. *chuckles*

#twisted wonderland #obey me mc #twst mc #twst idia #obey me levi #twst ortho #twst trey #twst lilia #twst malleus #twst cater #twst x obey me

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pliablehead · 7 months

Text

DO YOU BELIEVE IN THE PRESERVATION OF PHYSICAL MEDIA? DO YOU WANT TO HELP MY 93-YEAR-OLD GRANDPA?

(cw for deaths in the family)

My grandfather has until the end of this calendar year to move out of the house he's lived in for my whole adult life. While he's been living here, he's lost his wife, his son (my dad), and his oldest daughter, each of whom was living in this home with him at their time of death. The house is way too big and old and nasty for one nonagenarian, so we're honestly glad he's getting bumped somewhere else, but what this means is that all the accumulated STUFF of four people is in this house, and he absolutely cannot take it all with him when he moves into his new tiny apartment for one.

A piece of this project I have taken on is trying to help get rid of three HUGE boxes worth of DVDs. I know not a lot of people have DVD players anymore, but I also know that a lot of people here on the internet (myself included!!) are really passionate about media preservation in an age when Netflix and other streamer services can just remove your favorite programming at the drop of a hat and there's nothing you can do about it. I would REALLY love to send these DVDs to people who care about them rather than just trying to offload them at a media resale store or something. Everything is pay what you want, although I'd love if you'd at least cover shipping (though it's honestly fine if you can't), and ideally I will be giving anything I make back to my grandpa to help him with the transition into this new living situation.

>>CLICK HERE FOR A LIST OF ALL THE FUN DVDS FOR SALE<<

** IMPORTANT NOTE TO KEEP IN MIND: Any titles marked with an asterisk are NOT official, commercially released DVDs, but are burned DVD-R copies made by my dad (an obsessive collector/tinkerer who in hindsight was so incredibly neurodivergent). They're still all in nice cases with legit-looking paper inserts that he made and everything.

This list includes things like: a lot of BBC or PBS public programming, classic films from before 1970, war movies, huge chunks of Monty Python, random sci-fi and horror offerings, and much more! If you or anyone you may know is at ALL interested, I encourage you to reach out, or to please at least share to a wider audience, and I will do my best to stay on top of people's requests, ship them out promptly, and keep the gdoc list up to date when things go! Thank you so much for helping me and my Pappap out! ♥

EDIT TO ADD: I am from the continental US, as are, I imagine, the majority of these DVDs. I am happy to ship internationally if I can be reimbursed for shipping, but I cannot guarantee the DVDs will play in another region.

OCTOBER 21 UPDATE: Visited again this week and picked up EVEN MORE DVDs! List in the original GDoc has been expanded to include the rest of the haul. Maybe take a second look if you were on the fence at first!

#signal boost #DVDs #media preservation #community aid #also just like a shitton of tom selleck's jesse stone movies

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another-lost-mc · 9 months

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Can you imagine the om! cast flirting with mc and thinking they're mc's only romantic interest when mc already has a booty call at RAD? There are no feelings involved, just intimacy, but still. I think the cast is too arrogant to ever think mc could be interested in anyone else.

(English is not my native language, so please excuse any possible mistakes)

a/n: that’s fair! I mean, mc has needs too, right? maybe trying to hook up with one of the avatars is daunting, but a hot lower-ranking demon lord who promises a good time every once in a while? that could be fun.

➤ when they find out you have a fwb | the demon brothers

0.9k words | nsfw | suggestive | gn!reader

c/w: jealousy and implied dark themes/sketchy behaviour squints at beel and belphie

read more: the dateables | when solomon is your fwb

Lucifer finds it hard to believe at first. Once he knows the demon’s name, he watches you two interact more closely. He picks up on the shared glances and flirtatious touches he somehow missed before. He’s been stewing in his own desires and feelings for you all this time because he wasn’t sure the best way to declare his intentions. He thought subtlety and patience would be best, but perhaps he can admit just this once that he was mistaken. Learning about your dalliances with someone else finally gives him the push to show you what a real demon lover can offer you. Once you have the Avatar of Pride to warm your bed, you'll be satisfied with no one else but him.

Mammon is one part incredulous, one part jealous, and just a teensy bit turned on. He can’t stop staring at the blurry photo Asmo managed to take of you sneaking out of a utility closet at RAD. His cock twitches when he takes in the image of your rumpled clothes and the way your forehead glistens from a light sheen of sweat. He wants to make you look like that, not some random nobody that doesn't deserve you. His mind races when he imagines his own fingers tugging your clothes aside for better access to your naked body. What did you sound like when you tried to muffle your moans so no one would hear you? Mammon would give anything to take that demon’s place. Y’know, both of you have a spare period after lunch—would you follow him into one of the dark corners of RAD for a little fun if he offered? Maybe it’s time for him to find out.

Levi is seething. Mostly he’s angry and jealous and he wants to tear the building to pieces. He’s also ashamed because the fantasy of you dragging him into an empty room at RAD for a midday fuck is hot as hell. He doesn’t think he deserves you, but he knows that the demon you’re fucking doesn’t either. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s burning with curiosity about your little affair, but he’s incensed by the idea that he might not be good enough for you. Envy can make him a little desperate. He's tempted to beg you for even a morsel of your love and affection. If he's pathetic enough, maybe you'll even take pity on him and oblige.

Satan is furious because he should’ve realized something was going on. The signs are all there and he missed them somehow. It takes all his willpower not to hunt down your little demon friend for daring to touch you that way. Satan is well-versed in human world literature—maybe declaring his intentions with a romantic gesture would convince you to give him a chance instead? Or maybe sweet and romantic love isn’t what you crave. If fast and rough is more to your tastes, all you need to do is mention your friend’s name—you’ll be too fucked out of your mind to remember it by the time he’s finished with you.

Asmo’s reactions are all over the place: he’s giddy that you’re so daring (fucking at RAD of all places!); he’s devastated that you turned to someone else instead of coming to him; and he’s frustrated that he didn’t realize sooner this was even happening. He pays more attention after he catches you the first time, and it seems so obvious when the current of lust between you and your friend flickers with interest throughout the school day. He finds reasons to keep you two from sneaking off together and pretends he’s not jealous every time he interferes. Perhaps when you’re frustrated enough, he can finally entice you to join him for a little pampering session in his room. You seem so frustrated today! But don’t worry—he knows exactly what you need to loosen up.

Beel is one of the few demons that understands what hunger and starvation feels like. Sometimes you need to do whatever it takes to satisfy those cravings, even on a temporary basis. You’re important to him, and he cherishes your friendship. He’s hidden his true desires from you because he doesn’t want to risk losing control if he’s too hasty, too rough, or too demanding before you're ready to embrace being with someone like him. His love is all-consuming and you're a constant strain on his self-control. If you weren’t turning to someone else for affection, maybe he could be patient and satisfy his urges for you elsewhere. Now that he knows someone else has had a taste of you, he wants you even more. When he finally confesses his desire to be with you, he hopes for both your sakes that you feel the same.

Belphie lashes out with barbed insults and backhanded compliments to hide his own hurt and jealousy. You’re not that bad looking for a human, I guess it was only a matter of time before someone wanted to fuck you. Once he learns the truth about that demon you’ve been fooling around with, he’s suddenly glued to your hip like he can’t stand to be parted from you. He’s selfish with your time and clings to you in his bed during naps. He sneaks his way into your dreams because he wants to make sure you’re not dreaming of anyone else. He might even have a private chat with your little friend, but he doesn’t tell you since it’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s a shame that your fuck buddy suddenly decides to call things off between you after that. At least you still have Belphie to comfort you and wipe away your tears. He appreciates you, even if that random asshole doesn’t—the only demon you ever needed has been here for you all along.

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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randombush3 · 19 days

Text

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago.

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary.

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch.

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional.

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–”

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.”

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same.

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that.

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.”

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.”

You bite your lip.

“Ona, I think I’m gay.”

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be.

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you?

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago.

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you.

…

A year passes.

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes.

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam.

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded.

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up.

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.”

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say.

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you.

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her.

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible.

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it.

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.”

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.”

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.”

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now.

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return.

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?”

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.”

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.”

No one in the room is convinced.

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!”

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on.

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually.

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated.

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails.

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.)

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.”

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship.

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is.

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so.

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath.

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–”

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.”

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home.

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas.

It’s a camping trip.

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house.

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path.

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support.

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete.

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol.

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so.

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same.

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona.

Therein lies the issue, actually.

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always.

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop.

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything.

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school.

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow.

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers.

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours.

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes.

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her?

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes.

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology.

It’s not a crush.

Not on Ona.

No.

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested.

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic.

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. ��I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?”

“I am happy for you, I just said that.”

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions.

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere.

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes.

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself.

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been.

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry.

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat.

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here.

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back.

Milan is great but–

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows.

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure.

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused.

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present.

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background.

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed.

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through.

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you.

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee?

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable.

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap.

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.”

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.”

“I’m twenty-one!”

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh.

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends.

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #barca femeni #randombush3 #pretend it's not all build up #but it is

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enkas-illusion · 4 months

Text

The Worst Kept Secret

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Co-workers to lovers; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff but not too much, smut, oral (f & m receiving), piv sex, dom!Toji, sub!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language, Toji has a filthy mouth.

Summary: Your colleague Toji only has eyes for you, despite having a reputation of sorts. Porn with a plot… or more like a build up.

Author's Note: Co-worker Toji is instantly attractive cause a) he’s not a bum and b) he’s Toji-fucking-Fushiguro – that’s all in my defence, your honour! This shit is nasty… no, I won’t explain myself (I'm pretty sure i was possessed while writing this).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one shot, please write to me and let me know your thoughts. I love reading whenever people have elaborate things to say T.T Thank you for reading!

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Talk by Hozier

“Rat!” you exclaim as you hold your phone up to display the word written boldly on the screen.

“Ummm…. It’s not a rat, it's not a patootie, it’s a ratatouille!” your coworker, Lisa, blurts out excitedly.

You both look at each other, trying your best to control before you burst out laughing. This goes on for about a minute till your bellies hurt and you’re wheezing. You quiet down as you wipe the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

“Why don’t I know that one?” your other coworker, Ema, mutters with furrowed eyebrows, confused at what could possibly be so funny about the sentence.

You’re too drunk to realise that sober you would not find it as funny as you do right now. But that’s what happens when you party a little too hard with your coworkers on a work trip and then hang around the hotel bar because nobody wants to go to bed even at 3am.

You look around at the handful of your coworkers, randomly occupying different spots at the bar, all too dazed and into their own conversations to pay attention to the stupid game that the three of you were currently playing – A word game your genius minds had developed, using a random word generator app and use it in a meme-able sentence.

“Oh god… next word. Feminism!” Lisa squeals, snatching your phone from you to generate the word for your turn.

“Fuck… I suddenly can’t think of anything,” you admit and giggle, trying hard to work your brain.

“Seriously…”

“Wait, Wait… I need a few seconds,” you laugh, trying to save yourself. You look around and your eyes land on your office crush, Toji Fushiguro, sitting at the bar with your boss, Kento Nanami.

You look back to your group with a determined look in your eyes, ready with your sentence. “I want him to do things to me that feminism wouldn’t agree with,” you giggle like a teenager, “hah! I’m a genius.”

However, your friends have fixated on something else entirely, ignoring your perfect answer, since their eyes follow your line of vision to the bar. “So, what’s the scene?” Ema looks back at you.

“It's your turn, next word–”

“Nah, we’re bored… this is far more interesting,” her eyebrows wiggle, as she scoots closer to you on the sofa. By the looks of it, Lisa has also forgotten about the game in a second. You realise you’ve dug this hole for yourself, yet you don’t mind sharing a drunk confession with your friends.

“Let’s head out for a smoke,” you get up from the sofa. Lisa is quick to grab her purse as both your friends spring up, hurrying to happily follow you out onto the secluded porch outside, ready for gossip.

As you light up your cigarette, Ema looks at you expectantly. Looking at her face makes you snort and you cough out the smoke before speaking, “Have some patience! Besides, there's nothing too juicy about this gossip.”

“Pleaseeee, literally everyone saw the way Toji was glaring at the man who asked you for a dance tonight… not gonna lie, he looked kinda hot when he got mad,” Lisa catches your lie as she fawns over Toji, something that has become a regular thing among the female coworkers at the company.

“I know right? And I said no to the guy! What was he so pissed about anyway?” you protest.

“It's all because you agreed when the dude was like ‘at least let me buy you a drink sweetie’!” Ema imitates the stranger from the bar from hours ago.

“Hey! Who says no to free drinks?” you defend yourself.

“Okay, fair,” Lisa nods her head before realising, “aye, focus on the matter at hand! Why did you say no to the guy? He was cute.”

“Was he really though?” you retort.

“Yeah, like you’d notice anyone else when Toji's around… Please fuck him, I need some office drama!” Lisa snaps back before taking a long drag from her cigarette.

“Yea right… I’m serious though,” you ponder between slow drags, “I doubt anything is going to happen between Toji and I.”

“Why not?!” Ema whines and you laugh at how it seems like they’re more desperate about this whole thing than you are.

“Need I remind you I literally just got out of a relationship? This is no time to be having stupid crushes. I need some alone time… besides you know how his reputation is. Sure, he flirts with me and I enjoy it a lot but I don't know,” you explain as if it’s an automated response stored in you.

“So what? Then just fuck him and get it over with. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone!” Lisa giggles, “Besidesss, I've heard he’s really good in bed… heard it from a mutual– uhhh, I don't really remember her name.”

“Oh wait, shit I remember that!” Ema squeals, almost dropping the cigarette from her hand in excitement, “But didn’t she also say that he basically ghosted her after? He just fucks around, I guess.”

“Hence the reputation… Men like Toji are the most charming kind. They know exactly what to say to get you to sleep with them but disappear when it comes to commitment,” Lisa ponders, staring into the distance.

“Exactly, everyone says that Toji doesn’t do relationships. And as horny and curious as I might be, I don’t just want us to fuck and leave it at that. It’d be way too awkward to have such a dynamic at the workplace,” you reason and they simply nod. There’s a beat of silence as all three of you smoke quietly.

“Still though… would it be so bad to just give it a shot? Simply see it as a one night stand and get it over with? If he’s that indifferent about it, I doubt it’d be awkward at work,” Lisa presses.

“I know right! I dont get why you’re thinking so much about it. At least the sex would be killer even if nothing else is assured,” Ema advises.

You take another big drag before dropping the bud to the ground and crushing it with your heel, “Hmmm… that’s true, I’ll think about it.”

“Think soon and try to seduce him in the three days we have here!” Lisa squeezes your shoulder encouragingly.

“Yes! If you don’t want to, please allow me to! He looked so delicious yesterday,” Ema sighs and by the look on her face, you can tell she’s probably recalling memories of a shirtless Toji playing volleyball at the beach from yesterday.

“Be my guest… but do it tomorrow, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snort.

“Please, drunk or sober, if there is one hook up I wouldn’t regret, it’d be him… after our boss of course,” Ema confesses.

“Yeah right. Either of us could still have a shot with Kento. Toji only flirts back with you,” Lisa looks at you with narrowed eyes.

You laugh before a sudden chill runs down your spine, and you cuss at the feeling, “Motherfucker– Should’ve gotten a coat. It's getting cold.”

Your coworkers eye each other mischievously before Lisa snickers, “Why don’t you ask loverboy to help you with it instead? That way you’d be warm inside out.”

“Oh yeah, great idea! Let me go back inside to find him–” you cut off when you see a figure walking outside towards your group.

You signal Ema, who has her back turned to the encroaching new presence, to shut up but it's too late as she fake moans, “Exactly… I’m sure he’d love to indulge you, he’d basically been eye-banging you all night, harder Toji, fuck yea–”

“HEY TOJI! What’s up!” you’re basically shouting at the guy when he’s a few feet away, hoping to cover up and save yourself.

Maybe he senses your embarrassment, or maybe he didn’t hear her (hopefully) but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he greets the group and there’s an awfully awkward feeling in the air.

“Ladies,” he speaks coolly as he stands next to you, “Glad I found you here since boss man was looking for you two.”

“Kento?!” Ema’s ears shoot up at his sentence as she exchanges a grin with Lisa. They rush ahead inside and as you are about to follow them, you feel a hand on your wrist holding you back. You turn to look at him with a confused frown.

“Where do you think you’re going? I was just getting rid of the two of them,” he smirks, making you look at his pillowy lips.

When he catches you staring, you look down quickly, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear nervously, “Oh… So, Kento wasn’t really looking for them?”

“Nope.”

“Oh… that’s– they’re gonna be disappointed,” you chuckle lightly as you fidget with your phone’s cover.

“Well, sucks for them, I guess,” he holds two fingers under your chin to make you look up at him, “You look pretty… you usually do, but even more so in that tiny dress.”

Your eyes grow wide at his confession as you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and you mutter a quiet ‘thank you’. You move to the front of the porch as you stare out at the vast night sky, partly to avoid feeling so mushy and partly because you feel the alcohol toying with your nerves.

Another chill rushes down your spine and you’re pretty sure it makes you shiver visibly. As you mutter a quiet ‘fuck’, you feel him wrap his denim jacket around your shoulders. Your eyes widen at him in surprise.

“What? I’m a gentleman,” he teases, standing closer next to you. You laugh at this, turning to face him as you shake your head.

“Sure… a gentleman with a reputation,” you roll your eyes as you wrap your arms around your torso in an attempt to keep yourself warm. What you don’t realise is that this action further pushes your boobs together, causing Toji’s eyes to wander down briefly before he looks back into your eyes again.

“Aren’t you ever curious to know if I live up to that reputation?” he raises an eyebrow as he leans down closer to your face.

“Hmm, sure… if you were a stranger at a club and not someone who I had to see at work 9 hours a day, 5 days a week,” you roll your eyes at him as you bring up one hand to slowly run a finger down his shoulder to the outline of his bicep.

“Well, we see each other everyday anyway, so why not turn it into something we actively look forward to,” his fingers graze your jawline softly while his eyes shamelessly fixate on the dip of your cleavage, giving him a better view from the way he’s towering over you.

“As tempting as that is… I don’t do one night stands Toji–”

“Who said anything about just one night?” he interrupts and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, “I’m not stupid to approach someone I work with if I was simply looking for a quick fuck.”

“Oh… then please tell me what exactly you’re looking for?” you speak softly but it comes out more arrogantly than you’d like.

“You. I intend to fuck you more than once.” he’s direct yet his calm demeanour never wavers.

You let out a nervous chuckle, “Look Toji… you’re hot, charming and oddly easy to get along with but I just got out of a relationship, it’s barely been two months–”

“I know… his loss for letting such a sweet thing go. Didn’t he initiate the break up? What a loser,” Toji laughs as his hand cups your face.

You simply stare at him in bewilderment, you had no idea the news of your breakup had travelled even to the non-gossipers.

“Why me?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“For starters, you’re hot. Two, I like it when we hang out outside of work, you put me at ease with your conversations. Three, I haven’t been able to hook up with anyone else for about a month since I found out about your ex… such a pretty girl should be cherished the way she deserves to be,” his fingers slide down to your collarbone, threatening to dip down even lower.

“Hmm… that’s a good enough pitch, so you want us to be fuck buddies? Exclusively?” you play with the collar of his shirt, entertaining the idea.

“Yeah, I’m not one to share,” his other hand comes up to brush his thumb against your bottom lip.

“Nothing serious?” you pout at him with fake disappointment.

“Not until the both of us feel like it,” he dips his thumb inside your mouth while his other hand snaked around your waist. You suck on his thumb as you stare into his eyes and he feels his blood rush straight to his cock.

“I can work with that,” you give him an innocent smile, “But let’s not be too obvious about it, I’d hate for our little arrangement to mess with our work life.”

“Perfect,” he smiles as he cups your jaw, staring at your lips while sliding his tongue over his lips to wet them instinctively.

Just as he’s about to lean down to kiss you, you pull back when you hear distant footsteps approaching. You see your two friends walking back towards you, talking among themselves.

“Hey, we couldn’t find Kento at the bar,” Ema mumbles.

“Really? He must’ve gone back to his room. Maybe ask him about it tomorrow,” Toji speaks innocently and you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

You see Ema eyeing the jacket you’re wearing suspiciously and you suddenly take it off to hand it to Toji.

“Keep it. You’ll get cold again… return it tomorrow morning.” Toji speaks before you have a chance to give it back to him. You nod as you hold it closer to your chest.

“Alright then. Good night ladies,” he smiles politely before walking back inside. When your eyes shift from his diminishing silhouette to your two friends, they’re both staring at you with hopeful eyes.

“Nothing happened!” you exclaim and their faces drop.

“Fine, that’s it! I’m calling dibs, I’m gonna flirt with him,” Ema retorts. You simply chuckle and shrug, diverting your attention to your phone when it vibrates in your hand. You look at the notification and it’s a text from Toji.

Toji (Work):

Room no. 9010

Don’t leave me hanging, pretty

You lock your phone quickly as you look up again to force yourself to focus on the conversation.

“Could you not get the bottle from the cute bartender? We could’ve taken it to the room,” Ema sighs.

“No but I gave him my room number soooo…” Lisa giggles.

“Guys, I’m feeling a bit too drunk and tired to continue so I’m just gonna go to my room and sleep, okay?” you make up an excuse, hoping it seems believable. However, the girls are too drunk to analyse your lies and they simply pout and bid you ‘goodnight’ in a singsong voice, giving you a group hug.

You quickly make your way to the elevator and press the button to the ninth floor. And although you’re wearing his jacket again, you still feel your body shiver. You take a deep breath when you hear a ding, signalling your arrival. You walk out into the long passage quietly, skimming over the numbers till you spot his room, your heart feeling like it's about to fall out of your chest due to the thrill.

You knock on the door twice and fix your hair nervously. When no one answers, you unlock your phone to call him. You almost let out a scream when you hear the door unlock and he pulls you inside, catching you by surprise and making you stumble.

Before you have a chance to speak, Toji slams the door shut behind you, pushing your body against it before kissing you hungrily. You place your hands on his chest, creasing the fabric as you pull at it, humming into the kiss when his tongue shoves into your mouth. You close your eyes, the fluttering in your stomach making its way down to your core as his tongue plays with yours, making wet smooching sounds in the otherwise quiet room.

“I think you’ve misunderstood this. I’m simply here to return your jacket,” you tease, huffing as you catch your breath when your lips part. He smirks as he slides the jacket off your body till it pools near your feet before caging you against his body with his arms locking around your waist.

“Of course, this is me simply thanking you for returning it,” he moves one hand lower till it’s massaging the flesh of your thigh just below where the fabric of your dress ends.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” you give him another innocent smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head down for another kiss.

His hands lift up your dress to your stomach before going back down to squeeze your ass. He deepens the kiss as he towers over you, making you arch your back, causing you to hook your arms around him to keep your balance.

When you break the kiss for another shallow breath, he moves to your jaw, biting and pulling your skin with his teeth as he makes his way down to your neck. You tilt your head to give him more access, letting out soft sighs as he leaves sloppy kisses all over the expanse of your neck.

While his left hand hooks around your waist to keep you steady, he brings his right hand over to your mound, pressing the sticky lace of your thong into your folds. When he feels how wet you are, he groans against your skin, biting it again.

He rubs over the fabric again and you moan out of frustration, he's so close yet there's a tiny barrier between. You try to grind against his hand, whining when he pulls away.

He gets down on his knees before you can complain and lifts your right leg over his shoulder, securing it in place. You lean your whole weight against the door, feeling like you'd fall if you didn’t have something solid to hold onto, so your hands make their way down to tug at his hair.

Toji hooks two fingers into the lace, pulling the fabric to the side to expose your puffy folds to him. He slowly slides two fingers over to separate them, your wetness coating the tips of his fingers immediately.

“Knew you had a pretty cunt,” he murmurs as his eyes remain fixed on the way his fingers are working you. You let out a breathy moan, tightening your grip on his hair.

He brings his face closer to your core, peppering the entire area with soft kisses. You thrust forward into his face but it only makes him slap the inside of your right thigh harshly.

“Toji… please, stop teasin– ngh,” you plead but your words get caught in your throat when he licks a stripe up your cunt like it's a melting ice cream. He darts his tongue out to wiggle it over your clit and your legs feel as if they're about to snap and go limp.

“Toji– wait… I n-need to take off my heels,” you huff.

“No. They stay on,” is all he says before sliding two fingers into your hole with ease, and at the same time getting back to making out with your clit.

“Fuck– Toji please– ah,” your straight knee buckles forward as you yank at his hair some more to steady yourself. You let out an involuntary yelp when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder as well, burying his face into your pussy, hooking both his arms around your thighs. While this angle hits better, you feel a different kind of thrill about completely having given up control and trusting him not to drop you to the floor.

As you lean your head against the door, your hips rut further into his face and Toji doesn’t relent even for a second. As you hook your feet behind his neck, he brings his right hand down to your hole again, pushing three fingers in this time, meeting with a bit of resistance. The squelching sound of his fingers fucking your hole mixes with the sound of his lips sucking your clit.

“Feel s-so good,” you pant as your thighs twitch around his face. You shaky hands run through his hair weakly as you try to steady your ragged breathing. Each time Toji hits the right spot inside your walls, you moan out praises and encouragement for him to keep going.

He curls his fingers as he picks up the pace and it's brutal. You hold his hair so tight that you hear him hiss momentary before getting back to fucking you with his tongue.

You close your eyes shut as your hip involuntary thrusts forward, twitching uncontrollably as you come all over his fingers. You bite your tongue to control your moans, turning them into muffled whimpers instead. He pulls his hand out to hook it back around your thigh as his tongue starts lapping at your juices to lick you clean.

“Ngh– Toji, too much!” You squeal as you try to move your hips away from his touch but it causes him to poke his tongue out further over your sensitive skin.

“God– please, baby I can’t take it anymore,” you cry as your body jerks violently again. You hear him chuckle before kissing your clit one last time and pulling your legs off his shoulders and standing up again.

When you land on your feet, you're glad he’s holding your waist to keep you from crashing to the ground. He kisses you on your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue. It's enough to take your already intoxicated mind to a new level of high.

He slowly lets you go before stepping back to create distance as he hurriedly takes off his clothes and your eyes widen when you see the way his erect dick hangs low and heavy.

He grabs a condom from his wallet, tearing off the cover before sliding the rubber over his hung cock smoothly. The smug smile on his face grows wider when your eyes peel away from his dick to meet his gaze. You stare at him with a look of astonishment mixed with nervousness.

“Toji… you're–” you whisper silently. Toji is blessed to say the least.

“It's okay, don't be scared, pretty. I'll make it fit perfectly,” he cooes as he closes the distance between your bodies.

You gulp when he pressed his hands on either side of you, caging you against the door. As he's kissing your shoulder, his hands move to your back to undo your zip. He struggles a bit, fiddling with the zip of your dress and you’re pretty sure you hear a rip when he grows impatient, tugging at the fabric harshly.

“Did you jus–”

“Shh… later,” he blurts out, not giving you a chance to complain as he pulls the dress down your body, unhooking your bra to yank it down. He quickly takes off your thong as well, leaving you exposed as you stand in front of him in only your heels.

“So much better than what I had imagined,” he stares at your naked figure hungrily and you pull him closer to kiss him once again, already missing the way his lips feel.

You wrap your hands around his torso to feel his muscular back with your fingers, growing wetter at how huge his body feels compared to yours. He pulls away to lean down, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples.

You let out a satisfied hum and he repeats the action on your other nipple. Your eyebrows furrow as your back arches at the sensation and you weakly claw at his pecs.

“Fuck– I can't wait any longer… Just let me know if it hurts too much,” he groans as he scoots you up off the floor completely, hooking your knees over his elbows, opening you up wider as he readjusts his pelvis under you.

You bring a hand down to guide his tip to your entrance, sucking in a deep breath as you look down, anticipating his movement as he begins pushing his dick inside you.

With your legs spread apart firmly, he presses his hips up, almost losing his shit at how tight you feel. You bring both of your hands up to hug them around his neck. You steady yourself, resting your cheek onto his shoulder briefly when you feel his movement come to a halt. You feel so full, there's a delicious ache in your lower belly.

“Shit– I'm gonna move now, okay?” he grunts. You simply nod your head as he grabs you by your sides to push your lower body away till only his tip is inside before pulling you in closer to fill you up again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head while your mouth hangs open when Toji begins to slam you onto his hard length, repeating the motion over and over again as you let out broken cries of his name. When he picks up speed, your pussy flutters at the abnormal feeling, causing him to pounce into you harder.

“Oh god– nghh– Toji!” You cry into the crook of his neck.

“Mmh– look at me, let me see that pretty face,” he orders breathily. You pull away from his neck reluctantly, eyebrows still knitted as your lips stay fixed in a silent O shape.

“Look at how well you take my cock… ‘ts a perfect fit,” he hisses when your pussy squeezes him again at his words. You'd always thought that Toji would be the silent type, just like he was at the office, but seeing him spew such vile praises just adds more to the intensity of it all.

“Fuck– Toj–” you whimper as you rest your forehead against his.

‘Hmm? Yes, pretty? Cock got your tongue?” He laughs but it's strained. You tilt your head to kiss him on the lips and he shoves his tongue into your mouth to kiss you back hungrily. You moan into the kiss when he thrusts harder. In a swift motion he pulls away from the kiss, dropping your legs to the ground as he pulls out of you to turn you around.

He pulls your hips back to meet his, while pushing your face flush against the door to arch your back for him. He slides back into your hole in an instant, rutting into you from behind. Your hands press against the surface of the door while he grips onto your hips tighter to keep them from jerking forward due to the force.

You bring your left hand down to rub your clit, the pressure building up further as you get closer to your release. Toji leans forward to press his chest against your back, hooking his hand down to swat yours away. Instead, he replaces it with his fingers to toy with your clit and it feels so much better than your own dainty ones.

When your legs start to shiver as the pressure in your stomach builds up, Toji brings his other hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, pushing your chest further into the door.

With the way you're screaming his name, you're pretty sure anyone passing by outside can hear you. You wonder if that's the reason he's doing it, to show people just how good he's fucking you.

“Toji fuck– I'm coming– fuck!” You cry as your legs shake as you cum hard, threatening to give out, not being able to hold your weight. Despite wanting to finish himself, obsessed over how your pussy is sucking him in, he knows it'll be a bit too much for you to handle at the moment. So, he slows down as he secures one hand around your waist before pulling out completely.

He turns you around till you're facing him, taking deep breaths to calm your breathing. He bends down to swing your body over his shoulder with ease as if you weigh nothing at all. He walks over to the bed before slamming you back down onto the soft mattress.

He gives you another cocky smile, proud of how deliciously fucked you look. You recognize this look and just as he's about to lean forward to make his way to you on the mattress, you place one foot onto his chest as the heel digs into his skin.

“Time out… you’re too much,” you sigh and he lets out a snort.

“Better get used to it,” he smiles as he brings his hands up to take off your stiletto, tossing it on the floor before bringing your other leg up to take off the other pair.

He holds both your feet firmly, pushing them into your torso till you're practically folded in half as he brings one hand down to rub your swollen clit.

“No,” you turn to the side to get out of the position before sitting up straight, looking at his still erect cock in front of you. You lean closer to him as your hand wraps around the length, “Let me make you feel good.”

You roll the condom down before discarding it to the side, leaning forward to kiss his tip, swirling your tongue around the angry swollen head before licking a strip up his shaft. When you open your mouth wide, he grabs his length to tap it on your tongue a few times before you wrap your lips around the thick head. You make eye contact with him as you take in more of him, letting your mouth adjust to his size slowly. He mutters a quiet ‘fuck’ while grabbing the back of your head to push it closer. You gag before you can even take his entire length in your mouth, tears slipping out the corners of your eyes.

“Yes, right there… such a pretty mouth. Come on, I know you can take some– ugh— more,” he grunts and you relax your mouth to deep-throat him.

As Toji lets out breathy cusses, you move a hand down to massage his balls. Your other hand moves between your legs to part your folds and rub soft circles. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the man and you see a mischievous smile creep up on his face.

“Let go, babe,” he smiles while firmly pulling at your hair. You move your head back and you can already feel your throat aching as it readjusts to the emptiness. You’re still stimulating his tip with kitten licks, lapping at the precum, all the while touching yourself desperately.

Toji grabs both of your wrists as he pushes you back up on the bed, climbing up before lying on his back. As you await his instructions, you’re confused when he signals you to sit on his face. You hesitantly straddle his chest but it all makes sense when he tells you to turn around. You giggle as the heat rushes to your cheeks as you lie face-down on top of him to sixty-nine him.

“Now, stop being so greedy and focus on sucking my dick,” he speaks as he pulls at your asscheeks to part them, parting your folds with his tongue. Your toes curl in as you lean down to take him in your mouth once again.

As you bob your head up and down, sucking his entire length, his groans vibrate against your pussy as he eats you out just as fervently.

You steady your hands on his thighs as the muscles flex and relax every time his tip kisses the back of your throat. You close your eyes to focus on your movement as it gets harder and harder with Toji slurping at your pussy ruthlessly.

When you bring your hands over to play with his balls, it has him unravelling quickly. After edging himself unintentionally the whole night, he can’t help but feel like this is the tipping point.

“Do you– mmh– mind swallowing?” His voice is strained. You shake your head no, not parting from his cock even for a second. His nails dig into the flesh of your ass as thoughts of you flood his mind.

He can’t help but feel his pride swell that he's the one who gets to ravage his seemingly innocent co-worker like this. As if it weren’t already hard enough, imagining the things he’d do to you when he saw you at the office – now he had actual memories in flesh to make it harder.

Two months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined you'd be going dumb over his dick this way. Your interactions had always been respectful, despite him flirting with you occasionally. It was only about a month ago that you took him by surprise when you give a witty reply, flirting back with him.

Toji knew a thing or two about breakups, so when he subtly inquired and eavesdropped in conversations around the office, he heard your loudmouth friend talk about how sad it was that your ex had the audacity to dump you when you clearly were out of his league.

Sad indeed, Toji thought, wanting nothing more than to finally get to fuck his pretty colleague. But when you both were assigned on a project together about three weeks ago, the flirting had gotten out of hand and your talks were no longer just a few words exchanged out of courtesy. Toji knew he wasn't made for relationships but a part of him wanted to make you his and greedily keep you to him.

As he enjoys the way you’re sucking his dick with your pretty pussy fluttering under his touch, his desire to have you has only grown stronger.

He leans his head back when he feels himself shoot his load into your mouth, his dick twitching as he feels you lick and struggle to swallow him.

“Fucking hell–” he sighs, kneading the flesh of your ass lazily. When he feels the weight of your body lift up, he grabs your waist to pull your ass back to hover it over his face.

“Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and before you can answer, he's eating you out at a faster pace than before. You already feel overstimulated as is but when Toji pushes two fingers inside, it turns you into a blabbering mess.

You arch your back as you lean forward with your fingers denting the skin over his abdomen. You grind your hips to feel his tongue on your cunt. Your head hangs limply when you cum once again on his tongue and Toji continues to slurp at your juices.

You body twitches violently and you beg him to slow down. He chuckles as he licks you clean before placing a quick kiss over your folds, relaxing his grip to let you get off.

You roll over to the side till you're lying on your back, your chest heaving as you take deep breaths. You look down when you feel a hand on your shin. He smiles lazily at you as he caresses your skin. You smile back before closing your eyes to relax, but open them back again when you feel the mattress dip as the figure beside you shifts.

You find Toji caging you with his arms on either side of your head as he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes, humming into the kiss. He dips his head down to give you another mark on your neck, bringing one hand down to play with your nipples.

“Let me rest!” you push his chest but it doesn't faze him at all.

“Okay fine,” he laughs, “I'm only going easy on you cause it's our first time.”

“Easy? You really live up to your reputation,” you stare at him in disbelief. This makes him laugh and it’s the first time you hear his real laughter and not the smug, cocky chuckles of usual. You grin when you feel a warm fuzzy feeling in your heart, maybe Toji Fushiguro has more to him than he lets on.

He creates some space between you when he gets off and before you can ask him what he's doing, he lifts you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom.

When he sits you down on the sink counter to run the hot water tap to fill up the tub, you giggle.

“What?” He walks back to you.

“Nothing… just… Now, I get why women apparently call you unforgettable,” you mumble, trying hard not to blush.

“I don't do this for them,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes at him, not believing his words.

He chuckles, “I'm serious! I don’t fuck around… much. It's not a communal dick.”

“Oh really? What have I done to deserve such special treatment?” You tease.

“If I want to keep seeing you, I have to make you want to see me again too,” he smiles, leaning closer till he’s standing between your parted legs, brushing a finger over your lips.

“I think you guaranteed that right after you made me come the first time,” you laugh.

“That easy? Why's that?”

You shake your head no and he raises an eyebrow, urging you to speak.

“Well… if you must know, I rarely came with my ex. He said he got tired quickly so often I'd finish myself off in the shower later,” you confess, feeling a bit embarrassed at admitting this to him.

“Damn. What a fucking loser,” Toji chuckles dryly as he lazily rubs soft circles on your inner thighs, “Well, I'm glad he sucked. It really was time for an upgrade.”

You laugh as you play with the hair on his nape. You wonder out loud, “Have you ever thought about anyone else from the office?”

“Like who? You’re the only one there who I’d get blue balls for,” he laughs.

“Seriously? Not even Ema or Lisa? They’re pretty hot,” you push.

“Not my type.”

“Hmm”

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing… just…”

“They’re painfully obvious about their crush if that’s what you’re asking,” he lets out another dry chuckle as he brushes your loose strands to the side, “Well they won't bother from tomorrow.”

“Why's that?” your eyebrows furrow.

“Unless you have a top that covers your entire neck, they’re going to figure shit out instantly,” he smirks as he traces the light red/purple bruises on your neck. You twist to the side to look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your eyes widen as you gasp, “Toji! How am I going to cover these?”

“Maybe don't... it doesn’t matter if they find out– maybe that way the gossip will reach your loser ex and he’ll know just how well I take care of you,” he teases, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“God, you’re obsessed,” you giggle as you slap his chest lightly.

“Hmm, maybe. Told you I'm not one to share… especially not when your pussy tastes so good,” he kisses down your body till his face is in front of your core again.

“I never said yes to our little arrangement… I can always back out,” you tease but your breath hitches when he presses his tongue to your core once again.

“Hmm, maybe I need to try my best to convince you then,” he nibbles and you instinctively tangle your fingers into his hair, closing your eyes as you enjoy the way Toji fucks you with his tongue once again.

“Toji… the bathtub,” you sigh when you hear the water overflow. Toji pulls away, holding his hand out and pulling you to the bathtub. Once in, he closes the tap and turns you around till your back is flush against his chest. He kisses your shoulder from behind when you're nestled against his broad torso.

As you straddle his lap, you feel his boner poke your skin.

“Leave some for tomorrow,” you let out an exhausted chuckle.

“Ignore it…,” he speaks softly and you lean back, dropping your weight onto his chest. You close your eyes as you feel him rub and massage your skin with a soothing pressure all over.

You don’t realise you begin drifting into light sleep but blink a few times when your head jerks up, feeling his body shift underneath you. You lean forward to allow him some space and he gets out of the tub. You eye the way the water drips down his body, trickling over his toned back muscles before he grabs the towel to pat himself dry. His damp hair falls over his temple and you smile to yourself – you could definitely get used to this.

He holds his hand out to you and you take it as you get out of the tub. You undo the towel around his waist to dry your own body, feeling your skin prick due to the cold air after having spent a good few minutes in the hot tub.

Just as you’re about to wrap the towel around your torso, Toji tugs it out of your hand to drop it to the floor and instead lifts you up again to carry you out into the bedroom.

“Toji, I’m cold,” you hug your arms around his neck.

“I know… don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm,” he says as he lays you down on the bed, readjusting his position till he’s on top.

“I really think we should get some sleep,” you giggle when he kisses you cheek.

“This is how we build up your endurance… with more practice,” he leaves open mouthed kisses down your throat.

You laugh as you yank his hair to pull his face away from your skin. “Let me sleep! Good night.”

“You can sleep… I don’t mind,” he mumbles as his tongue teases one of your nipples, biting the hardened bud lightly.

“Toji! Behave!” you scold him in a not-so-convincing tone.

“If I had behaved, we wouldn’t be here,” he rolls his eyes as he gets back up to give you a long, lazy smooch till you’re both out of breath. When your lips part, he rolls to the side, collapsing on the bed next to you.

He covers the thick blanket over your bodies before pulling you to his chest and kissing your shoulder with a soft ‘good night’. The act is surprising as you hadn’t really taken him for the cuddling type. You feel his boner stick out against your back once again and you laugh.

“Shh, this is all very new. Give me some time,” he teases, snaking his arm around your waist. You wrap your hand over his, letting yourself melt into his arms when he rubs soft circles over your belly. You involuntarily rub your ass against his hard on and he presses your stomach to still your movement.

“Don’t do that if you want to sleep,” he warns and you giggle as you close your eyes, the tiredness of the whole day taking over your senses as you fall asleep in his arms.

~~~

You wake up when you hear your phone ring from a distant corner. You try to move Toji’s heavy arm to free yourself but he pulls you in even closer.

“My phone’s ringing,” you whisper as you turn your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed as he grumbles in a low voice, “Let it.”

You still manage to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and quietly walk towards where your phone was lying on the floor near the door. Toji stirs and sits up, his eyes following your naked form as you pick up the call.

“Did you die in there or something?”, you wince when you hear Ema’s voice on the other end.

“Open the door, we’ve been out here for, like, 5 minutes now,” Lisa’s voice is more distant.

When your brain registers what they’re talking about, you slap a hand over your mouth as you stare at Toji.

“Give me 5 minutes,” you mutter before hanging up, not giving them a chance to protest. Toji gets off the bed and walks towards you.

“Ema and Lisa… they’re outside my room… and I'm here,” you sigh as you pick up your garments off the floor.

“Told you there’s no point in hiding,” he says, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, “I’ll walk you to your room.”

You simply narrow your eyes at him with a ‘yeah, right’. He takes the dress from your hand.

“I’m not joking…” he holds the dress up in front of you and shrugs, “Besides, you’re gonna have to wear my clothes anyway.”

You see that the zip is broken with the fabric looking frayed where the zip ends – you had heard it right, he did rip your dress last night.

“I really liked that dress,” you pout but it’s far from a complaint. You know you cannot complain after a night like that.

“I liked it too… it gave me a really hard time the entire night,” he gives you a quick peck, far from apologetic, “I’ll get you one just like it.”

You simply blush at his words before pressing your hands on his chest, “Fineee, get me something to wear.”

He squeezes your ass once before walking away to his suitcase. You put on your thong and bra back on just as he returns with a t-shirt and sweatpants. You snatch them out of his hands and put them on quickly.

He laughs at how baggy his sweats are, the compression t-shirt is still okay in comparison, “Guess it’s too big for you?”

You crinkle your nose, cringing at his joke as you secure the drawstring tightly to keep the pants from sliding down, “No, it’s not that big.”

“Is that so?”, he wraps his arms around your waist, caging you in, “Do I need to refresh your memory?”

“Toji! My friends are waiting!” you slap his chest and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you.

“Let them,” he moves his lips down to your jaw.

“No, let’s leave,” you wiggle your way out of his arms, shoving your phone in the pocket of his sweats before picking up your heels to carry them in one hand. He quickly puts on a different pair of sweatpants with an oversized t-shirt and sliders before grabbing his keycard.

“Oh wait… I think my keycard is in your jacket from yesterday,” you turn around when you’re at the door to find him already rummaging through the pockets to retrieve it. You grin at him and he simply shrugs, “Told you, I’m a gentleman.”

You roll your eyes again as he opens the door and you quickly make your way to the elevator. Toji’s hand is resting on your lower back when the elevator dings and the doors open.

You know there’s no point in hiding, yet you walk ahead of him as you notice your two friends standing outside your room. Before you have a chance to greet them, you hear Toji’s booming voice from behind, “Morning, ladies!”

You brace yourself for their reaction and it’s just as animated as you’d expected. They don't try to be subtle about it as they smirk at you while greeting the man in unison and you realise it's a lost cause trying to keep it a secret.

And it surely doesn’t help that Toji makes it a point to grab your jaw and kiss you goodbye in front of the two for no damn reason, as if it weren’t already obvious about what had transpired between you two.

As he leaves, you smile at him, watching him walk away. The heat rushes to your cheek when you hear Ema fake a cough and you turn around to look at your friends.

“Open the door ASAP! I wanna know everything,” Lisa squeals and you know your friends would not leave you alone until you went into heavy detail about the whole night.

~fin~

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