#u get what I mean. the instinct is there but he ignores it
Note
thigh fucking with ayato to relieve his stress from work so he bends the reader in his desk while degrading him ( ◜‿◝ )♡
ayato x reader
cw: domtop character, subbottom reader, degradation, minor feminization (use of the word cunt), minor voyeurism, minor sir kink, petnames
lmk if i miss anything!
<3
“sir.. please,” you squirm under ayato as his body keeps you bent over his desk, hand on the small of your back as he feels around for a small bottle in his desk.
“what? this where you want it?” he smiles as he traces a finger up your exposed hole watching as it winks back up at him, leaning back to spread the lube all over it, “in this slutty cunt a yours?”
“‘m not a slut..” you slur, biting back a moan as he laughs, your face too cute to ignore. i mean your body is practically jumping at his touch while your poor cunt tries to take his fingers in, desperate to be filled.
it had been another regular day in the office before you were called up for another one of your lil “private meetings”, the angst on his face clear as day the moment you stepped through those grand doors.
the man is in desperate need of an actual break, what with the commission beating down his door 24/7, and ayato couldn't think no one better than his favorite boy..
his boy, to give it to him.
you were just made to take him. your desperate whines and moans music to his ears as he slowly jerks off your sad cock, spreading the lube all between your thighs and back up to your eager hole. honestly, he can't imagine how he ever makes it through the day without you
if he could just pay you to look all pretty bent over his desk, filling that pretty boycunt a yours up like it deserves to be filled, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
“oh, puppy, look at you,” he coos sweetly in your ear, his dick jerking against the curve of your ass as he bends over to take your dick in his hands, dirtying it with your precum, “this is all it takes to get you wet? a whore like u cant go two minutes without having his hole stuffed, hmm?”
your ass perks up to his touch on instinct, rutting against him for some friction on your rim. you needed him inside you so bad.
“no baby,” ayato hums, small frown on his face as he presses his finger into the skin of your hip to hold you still, “none of that,”
his hard cock slides in between the warmth of your lube slick thighs, groan escaping his lips as you clench around him from the sensation. your hips stutter as you rock against him, the feeling of his cock against yours just too much to handle.
“what a slutty little ass you’ve got,” he gropes, “what did i tell you?”
“please,” you shake your head, hole winking up at him everytime he prods, begging for any sort of attention, “please put it in, please sir,”
and you make it so hard to resist what with the sweet way his name falls off your tongue.. but only good dogs get treats he reminds you, all gentle smiles as he runs his hands down your back and squeezes at your thigh, finally starting to fuck you in earnest.
“stay tight. don't let up till i finish,” he grunts, keeping you bent over his desk as your hands grip onto the edges of the table in an attempt to keep balance against the smack of his hips against your ass. the tip of his dick pokes through your thighs as he uses them like a fleshlight, spreading his pre all over you and the underside of your abandoned cock.
ayato's all up on you, chest pressed against your back as he groans in your ear so you can know personally just what you do to him. it has you fucking yourself back on his hard cock, begging for him to just touch you already, but the sudden ringing of his old desk phone distracts you.
ayato reaches for it, your eyes widening as you glance up at him shaking your head, but he just holds a single finger to his lips before sliding the phone onto his shoulder, giving his fingers full freedom to slide back into position on the small of your back as he slows his thrusts to a slow grind of his dick. you've got nothing to worry about, really. he's gonna make sure to fuck all those useless thoughts out your pretty little head all the same.
“yes?” he doesn't do much to hide the annoyance in his tone, his hands pressing into your warm skin, using you like some cheap toy as he forces you to stay down and take it.
“two pm? no, cancel that, thank you. yes i’m sure,”
it feels like his stupid talk could go on for forever, but he still manages to stay cool on call as he draws the softest moans out of you, pulling out from your thighs to see how you flinch when he slaps his dick across your unused hole, lightly tapping the side of ur ass so you can arch for him some more just like a good toy should. it all has your mind falling away, uselessly rutting yourself back onto his cock as he plays with you, making sure to stay all pretty laid out on the desk for him.
“i’m a little busy at the moment,” he leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder as he squeezes at your ass, voice almost a low whisper, “isn't that right?”
all you can do is nod your head, body too hot and aching to say no. so thoroughly fucked out you don't even notice hes ended the call already, phone disgarded somewhere on his desk as he picks up his pace again, watching his cock dissapear into the folds of your thighs as his free hand reaches around your middle.
“gods, youre so fucking filthy, look at you,” he laughs, pinching at the head of your cock, spreading your pre all over his fingers, “you really get off from being used like that?”
“‘m not,” your words break off what with the way your body betrays you, thighs clenching as he starts jerking off your pathetic cock,
“i wonder how everyone would react,” he leans down to your level, lips warm on your ear as he keeps his hand tight around you, “if they saw how wet you get from just the touch of my fingers,”
you rut back into his hand, silently begging, but he keeps his touches light, laughing at how desperate you get.
"use your words, puppy," he gently hums before squeezing your chin in his hands and forcing your mouth open with his fingers. his face is so close to yours you can feel his words on the skin of your neck, but his body keeps you pinned against the desk stuck from facing him, "cmon, tell me what you want,"
“please, sir,,” your body jerks as you cry, way too focused on chasing his hand. the feel of his fingers tracing over your tip, the rhythmic sound of his skin on yours, it leaves your head too empty to think of anything but release.
“a slut like you can do better than that”, he moves his hand from your dick, the smile on his lips clear as day as he listens to your incoherent moans, rubbing your mess all over your tummy.
“please let me cum, please,”
you can feel the smile on his lips as he takes your wrists in one hand, lifting you from his desk and exposing your fucked out body to the empty office.
your head falls back against his chest, body almost giving out when he finally takes your cock in his hand and finally gives you what you've been begging so prettily for.
“that’s it, let it all out,” your legs shake as you jerk your hips to try and match his pace, head too dumb to do anything but whine as you finally cum, voice caught all up in your throat, ayato's lips on yours silencing you as he finishes all over your thighs, and you all over his hand.
#splataii writes#bottom male reader#male reader insert#male reader#kamisato ayato#x male reader#sub male reader#dom male character#male reader smut
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even if it’s not what i think it’ll be i’d love to hear your yan jing yuan thoughts 🙏
Okay in essence I think,,,,,,,, the impulse is there and he actively shoves it down 🫣
Like it’s there!!! He sees you smiling at someone and there’s a tugging feeling in his gut and he knows he could drag you away and lock you up for millennia without lifting a finger, and he really does consider it; imagines being the only one who can see you, imagines you with nothing to do but be pampered by him all day, always in his bed or his garden, never having to find you laughing and spending time with anyone else. Nothing to do with yourself but accept his adoration. How much has he given to his people, to the Luofu? Surely he deserves to be selfish with this one thing.
He could collar you without batting an eye. All his, for the rest of your nigh-infinite lives. He likes the thought, he really does.
But that only lasts a millisecond. Because above all else the Arbiter-General Jing Yuan is clever, and he knows the consequences of that line of thought—not that he’d be stopped, not at all, but that you would never truly love him if he went through with it. Sure he’d wear you down eventually but that would never be the same, and he would lose any chance of his genuine affection being returned. And his pride might never recover from that wound.
Sure, he could make you his pet, and he’d find some satisfaction in that. But it would be fleeting. He holds you too highly to want to break you; yes, he deserves to be greedy with you, and that means he doesn’t just want you in his arms. He wants your love, your life, and he wants to earn it honorably. You’re a discerning little thing, giving him a run for his money, but he’d be lying if he said he hated the chase. It’ll make it all the sweeter to win properly.
He needs you to choose him, freely, of your own accord. He needs you to want him even a fraction of how much he wants you, and he needs that desire to be your own.
#ask.🌧#saintshigaraki#pluvi’s pals#char.🌧 jing yuan#yandere.cw#he just like has the impulse and then goes no wait that’s horrible#I don’t want another pet I have too many responsibilities anyway r u kidding KDNFKNRKRN#okay that last bit is more comedic but n e way#u get what I mean. the instinct is there but he ignores it#and sometimes it’s HARD to ignore#the first time u fall into his bed… he wakes up before u and just. stares. ur so pretty and peaceful and he could just lock the door……………..#but then you stir and make the cutest little noise and lean into him and he Knows it’ll be so much more satisfying to#coax you back into his bed again instead#he might not outright do anything that forces you to not have any other options but he damn well makes his interest clear and who would ever#try to compete with him for anything let alone your hand#might as well be staking his claim#there u go. local man fights w his own instincts to not just fuck you up entirely#he likes the chase!!! it’s in his nature to want to win it!!!
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can you help me, sensei?
contents: alpha! satoru gojo x omega! gn & afab reader. taboo dynamics (you used to be jujutsu tech student, he was/is a mentor figure), age gap, a/b/o, p in v sex with knotting and heat, manhandling (he’s strong), mult orgasms, gojo is bigger than u, barely there exhibitionism bc his house keepers are home, pet names, 1.8 k words
a/n: my contribution for @lorelune ‘s spring fever collab! ^_^ thanks for hosting <3 <3 <3
18+, minors dni please
Satoru’s sitting in his home office answering emails when you knock on his door, flooding the room with a certain tell-tale sugary fragrance the moment you step inside. Satoru sighs. You’ve only been staying with him two short days. This is what he gets for helping an ex-student in need, ignoring Nanami’s warnings about ‘sharing a space with an omega’.
“Hey bunny,” Satoru speaks slowly, eventually halting his typing when he looks up at you. “Something wrong?” (He knows what’s wrong. He knows that you know he knows. He’s buying himself time to reckon with it.)
“Uhm yes actually—” he feels a prick of guilt for asking. You’ll struggle to say it. “---I, uh, made a mistake.”
You inch your way closer, skittish but needy. Like he’s a stranger with food in his palms. Maybe that’s a generous comparison—Gojo can’t possibly come off that inviting. Maybe it’s as if he’s some murderous beast sleeping in a field of berries, and you’re starving. He needs to work on his analogies.
He scoots his chair away from his desk when you make your way around it, turning to face you with spread legs, inviting you in because he can’t help but want to. Your smell is so strong his mouth is watering.
“You’re in heat,” he says matter-of-factly. You flinch from your halted distance of a yard away.
“I need help.”
“Thought you were on suppressants.”
“I am! I mean—I thought I was! I’m starting to—ngh,” He watches you rub your thighs together. “---think they were expired or something.”
“‘s that so…” Gojo thumbs at the edge of his blindfold, prolonging the inevitable. This is a bother.
You nod frantically, your expression pained. Desperate and pleading like maybe you really are starving.
Gojo is mad, somewhere. He should be, at least. Any logic is forgotten with the clean air he breathed before your dramatic entrance, though.
This is Satoru Gojo’s first time feeling the true pull of his instincts. They rid him of his renowned self control—a lifetime of careful barriers and walls and techniques, wiped away by his cock and your fucking pheromones. It should be laughable.
But the instincts rob him of humor, too.
“Does it hurt?” His voice is soft without trying—he’s genuinely concerned. You’re helpless, his insides are screaming—he needs to do something.
Your eyes turn glassy when you nod, and Satoru has to grapple with the way it feels like the world will end if they spill over. Or worse, maybe he’d get even hornier.
He shushes you, pulling you into his lap carefully, like your limbs are held together with school glue, gently tugging till you straddle him.
“You poor thing. So needy huh?”
Your answering pout makes his cock twitch.
“Need an alpha to fill you up?” He says it so soft, it’s like a lulluby.
He doesn’t expect your quiet temperament to reply, but you do. “Yes, please, alpha—sensei, I really need it.”
That’s all he can take before he’s rubbing his face into your neck, inhaling and licking at the sweetness there before he bites, leaving a permanent mark, relishing in your whines while a warm hand slots between your legs.
And just like that, you’re being mated with Satoru Gojo. A teacher from school that taught the other students in your grade while you were busy healing with shoko. The strongest man alive, your sponsor who agreed to house you briefly between moves, an enigma more than a man (and one you don’t even truly know, at that). Just sitting on his lap like this is far more intimate than the two of you have ever come infinitesimally close to being—exchanging small talk and a few mentor-related words of advice was the prior extent of the relationship. There were pet names, sure—but you’ve come to find those were on par for Gojo Sensei’s personality.
Now he’s got teeth in the skin of your throat while his fingers trace right through the center of you, only a thin layer of shorts in the way. You buck automatically, openly desperate, whining when that isn’t enough.
“you poor baby—“ sensei hums, his lips against your pulse. His tone is patronizing, but it soothes you regardless. “It’ll be okay. Gonna make you feel better.”
He speaks against your jaw now, dotting kisses wherever he moves while the sorry excuse for shorts you wear are pulled to the side, your panties with them, so he can really trace you.
Though they aren’t what you truly need, Gojo’s big fingers sate your ache in a way you couldn’t yourself—your body seems to mellow at the touch of an alpha, like it knows you’ll be taken care of now that he’s here.
Instincts less frantic, your sighed please alpha comes slow and heavy as he pushes two fingers inside of you, almost testingly. It’s slow—bordering agonizing—but you wouldn’t put it past gojo sensei to mess with you, even at a time like this.
Your slick floods his fingers at that small action, a whine and a buck of your hips accompanying, and satoru lets out an amused sigh.
You’re preparing to beg for him, plead to stop the teasing, but then… you’re on his cock before you can take another breath.
The relief is unparalleled. One minute he was dipping fingers into your entrance, slow and deceptively gentle before the next he was spreading your juices over his freed cock, pulling you onto him like he’d done it a million times. You suppose the familiarity is from those very instincts that brought you here—your chest practically sings now that they’re sated.
And so do you—you can’t control the cry you let out when he finally stretches you, feeling every ridge and vein of his heavy cock deep inside your tummy just where you’ve been needing him.
“That’s it, little lovie. You’re okay—hah!”
You’ve never heard sensei gasp the way he does when you roll your hips over his. It’s a strained, weak sound—the kind you’ve never known alphas to make.
He digs wide hands into the squish of your waist. “You’re tight.” His voice speaks directly into your ear as he tucks you into his chest then, scooting back into his trusty (thankfully armless) rolling chair so he can plant his feet and sink you down even closer. He makes light work of guiding your hips, the strength of the strongest shining through as he manhandles you up and down his length like you’re a doll.
And you feel like you’ve got the autonomy of one in his hands—his cock inside your tummy seems to hollow out your thoughts while your legs turn weak beneath you. Your arms remain to cling though, wrapping tight around sensei’s shoulders through your first release on his cock. The warm waves of it shock your system, and you cry out for your alpha when it hits you before he captures your lips in his.
Kissing satoru gojo is different from all your past experiences kissing. This one is so gooey and sweet it’s gross—the spearmint taste of his mouth reminding you just who it is you’re mating with. You flash back to Gojo dropping by to bug your sensei during your apprenticeship—dwelling on the way he’d talk to you like some silly kid. He’d always invade your personal space to tease you for no reason but to see you flustered, not that he needed to—you’d fluster easy just from his handsome alpha proximity, the minty smell of his breath.
It’s gross that such a mature mentor figure’s got you clamping hard on his cock now, tongue deep in your mouth to dull the sound of your whines.
But the disgusting nature of it all has you cumming in buckets—squelching on your sensei’s girth with every pump he guides you through.
You’re barely collecting your senses and drifting back to earth with Satoru pulls you off him, chuckling at the delayed clinging you react with. Of course you’re not strong enough to hold your body to his when he’s rearranging you—as much as you try—you have no choice but to get stripped and molded over Gojo’s fancy mahogany desk how he wants.
You’re still disoriented when he enters you again from behind, shoving himself deep deep deep till you’re so full you feel like choking from the stuffed feeling. It’s almost overstimulating when you just came so intensely, but the feel of your alpha splitting you still pleases your inner omega. More than that, you’re delighted.
“A-ahh! A-alpha—“
You can barely get out a word through his heavy thrusting, merciless and rhythmic.
“What is it, sweetheart? ‘S it feel good?”
Gojo digs thumbs beneath your shirt while he speaks, his anchoring grip around your sides surely leaving bruises. Not that you even notice how tight it’s become—all you have the sense for is his cock.
“Yes alpha! Th-thank you!,”
Gojo fucks you through orgasm after orgasm like that, till every pound against your flesh is wet and sticky.
It’s loud too, and, if you were in your right mind, you might worry about the fact that Gojo’s house keepers haven’t even left for the night yet.
You’ve lost track of your orgasms by the time sensei’s pace begins to show, his massive knot catching in your tight folds till he’s stuck deep inside you, while rope after rope of warm cum pumps you full. You finally feel that fever of yours beginning to fade once you’re flooded like that, coming out of your craze only to be met with exhaustion.
Of course you aren’t really done, sensei’s still connected to you with his knot, you can feel its delicious thickness where your body craved it most when you move your hips to go limp on sensei’s desk. You can feel the flood of his hot cum still streaming into you.
Satoru is panting for the first time in your memory, rubbing the soft skin of your hips while he recuperates before murmuring your name.
Then, “still breathin’, bunny?”
You make a little noise, nodding your head with immense effort, letting your eyes droop.
Only to open again when satoru lifts you with an arm beneath your chest, pulling you back till you’re both seated in his office chair. This way you’re still connected with you on his lap, cum still spurting into your womb.
He fishes your shorts from the ground, then, only to mop up your mess on his table, though truthfully most of it was still on each of your thighs.
At least with his table cleared he can move his desktop closer and finish those mission reports he had left—the solo ones he couldn’t pawn off.
You’re in a half conscious state around Gojo’s cock, breathing somewhat evened out with closed eyes, so gojo leans you carefully against his chest, with an arm on either side so he can type. Sure, the stuff on his computer was technically confidential, but you likely wouldn’t be alert for a while. And even if you were, did the whole classified document rule even apply to you anymore? It’s not like anyone could ask him to keep a secret from you, not now—not when you’re mated.
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo fic#gojo satoru smut#tw.omegaverse#tw.taboo dynamics#tw.age gap#🐞 writes
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angsty / fluff fic ab mattheo like going on about how nobodys gonna love him n shi to y/n, n she says like but i love u, and hes like u js playing then she kisses him and wow yay happy ending
「 ✦ Apocalypse. ✦ 」
Mattheo riddle x reader
Summary: ( request)
Warnings: angst, fluff
Words : 2k
I saw it in his eyes, the darkness creeping in as he struggled to maintain control. The fight had escalated into pure hatred, with both Theo and Enzo unable to pry the boy from Mattheo's grip. The damage was evident; the boy was bleeding, a clear indication of Mattheo's brutal impact on his face.
His gaze met mine briefly, pushing the blood away from his features as he swiftly made his way out of the school grounds. I glanced at the unconscious boy, then back at Mattheo disappearing into the distance.
Ignoring Pandora's warnings and calls to give him space, I bolted through the oak doors of Hogwarts. The downpour that had been threatening all afternoon had finally unleashed its fury, the wind whipping the rain into a stinging wall. My hair plastered itself to my face, and my robes clung to me like a second skin, already heavy with the deluge.
Mattheo was already a dark blur disappearing into the Forbidden Forest. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a war between reason and a deep, primal need to be with him. Reason screamed at me to turn back, to let him cool down, to respect the boundaries he was so forcefully setting. But the thought of him alone, consumed by whatever darkness had gripped him, was a terrifying prospect.
With a deep breath, I plunged into the forest. Thick branches clawed at my robes, and gnarled roots snagged my feet.
"Mattheo!" I called out, my voice swallowed by the din of the storm. Each step forward felt like an eternity.
"Mattheo, please stop," I shouted, desperation tainting my voice. He didn't glance back, didn't acknowledge my presence.
"Mattheo," I called again, and in that moment, everything escalated. Rain began pouring heavily, adding to the chaotic atmosphere.
"Riddle, I swear to—"
"Go back to the fucking school, Y/N," his voice sliced through the rain, sharp and commanding, leaving no room for negotiation.
"Mattheo—" I tried to protest, to reason with him.
"I said go back!" he screamed, his anger palpable as he turned to face me.
I stood there, speechless, meeting his gaze with wide eyes, refusing to blink even as the rain blurred my vision.
"No," I whispered defiantly, shaking my head and attempting to step closer to him. But he instinctively took a step back.
"Are you stupid or something? I said leave me the fuck alone! What part of that don't you fucking understand?" His voice echoed in the rain, filled with frustration and anguish.
"Don't shut me out, Mattheo," my voice trembling with emotion. "You don't mean that, and I'm not going anywhere." Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the rain as I desperately tried to convey my feelings.
A string of curses erupted from Mattheo's lips as he took forceful strides towards me. "Don't cry," he rasped, his eyes squeezed shut in a struggle with whatever inner demons gnawed at him.
I sniffled, wiping at my face with a damp sleeve. "It's not tears," I lied, my voice thick with emotion. "Just the rain."
He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine"Fine, whatever. Just get back to the castle." He pivoted, his cloak billowing in the wind as he prepared to walk away again.
My mind raced. I had to stop him. As I moved towards him, an idea – a desperate and slightly reckless one – sparked in my head. With a feigned gasp, I stumbled, collapsing onto the rain-slicked ground.
Mattheo reacted instantly, spinning on his heel and rushing back to my side. A flicker of genuine concern crossed his face as he crouched beside me. "Hey, hey, look at me , what happened?" he demanded, his voice sharp with worry. His hand gently brushed the wet hair from my face, a touch surprisingly tender.
"Ankle," I whimpered, milking the act. "I think I twisted it."
He didn't seem entirely convinced. But the worry in his eyes was unmistakable. He offered his hand, and I hesitantly took it, wrapping my fingers around his forearm. "I think I can walk," I muttered, testing the waters.
Instead of letting me stand, he scooped me up in his arms with surprising ease. It startled me, but there was no time to dwell on it. wrapping my arms around his neck not tearing my eyes off his face.The rain hammered down relentlessly. He navigated the downpour until we reached the shelter of a large oak tree, its broad leaves offering a meager shield from the deluge.
Settling us down I clung to him, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs."I know you're lying," he said softly, his voice devoid of anger. My breath caught in my throat, his words cutting through my facade.
The shock momentarily stole my breath, but I held his gaze."Then why did you carry me?" I whispered, barely audible.
"Because the possibility of it being true terrifies me," he confessed, catching me off guard.
A surge of warmth spread through me despite the chill of the rain. "If you weren't pushing me away, I wouldn't have to lie," I said, my voice gaining strength.
"And maybe if you were smart, you'd have listened and left when I told you to."
Ignoring his words, I reached out, cupping his cheek with my hand. My thumb brushed away a stray raindrop that clung to his lash. "Don't let whatever that boy said get to you, Matt." I said softly. "You know he's wrong."
His eyes held mine, a storm swirling within their depths. "No, he wasn't wrong," he choked out,. Before I could offer a counterpoint, he surged forward, his voice rising with each frantic word.
"It's the curse of the name I carry," he spat, desperation lacing his tone. "No matter what I do, history will repeat itself, They'll pretend to care, to love me, if it's just out of fear. It's a gilded cage, this life , It's a curse of being the heir. We think we own everything, that we can have everything we desire. But then..." He trailed off, his voice cracking, his eyes flitting to the rain-slicked ground.
A heavy silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic patter of raindrops. I yearned to reach out, to comfort him, but I won’t dare to stop him not after he finally opened up to me , sensed the raw vulnerability pulsating around him like a volatile aura. Finally, with a shuddering breath, he continued, his voice barely a whisper.
"Then the darkness creeps in, whispers promises of power in exchange for a sliver of your soul. It's a seductive song, promising control, promising to silence the doubts, the fears. And before you know it, you're drowning in it, the darkness coiling around you, suffocating the light."
A surge of protectiveness washed over me. I reached out, my fingers brushing against his cheek. The contact seemed to ground him, the storm in his eyes calming just a fraction.
He slumped back against the rough bark of the tree, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. Rain trickled down his face, My heart ached for him, for the pain he carried like a heavy cloak.
"Mattheo," I said softly, gently brush a wet strand of hair away from his forehead. "That's not true."
He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Easy for you to say.You don't live under the shadow of a name that breeds fear."
"Maybe not," I conceded, "but that doesn't mean the people who care about you don't see you for who you truly are."
He met my gaze, a flicker of doubt warring with the cynicism in his eyes. "Do they?" he challenged with a smile his voice barely a whisper.
"You're kind," I said, my voice firm despite the turmoil within. "You're loyal, protective, and funny when you try to be." A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "And deep down, Mattheo, you have a good heart."
He stared at me for a long moment, searching my eyes for any hint of deception. Then, a spark of something, perhaps defiance or maybe a sliver of hope, flickered within their depths.
"But what if that's not enough? What if love is just another game—“
Before he could say another word , I leaned forward and cupped his face in my hands. My thumb stroked his cheek, a silent plea for him to listen. Our eyes locked, a silent conversation unfolding between us.
I whispered, my voice husky with emotion. " for what it's worth, Mattheo Riddle, I don't play games, I love you "
Then, with a boldness that surprised even myself, I closed the distance between us. My lips met his .My kiss was soft, hesitant at first, a question mark pressed against his lips. Then, a spark ignited, a fire that burned away his doubt, his fear. He responded with a fervor that mirrored the intensity of the storm raging around us, his arms pulling me closer until we were one tangled mess under the shelter of the oak tree.
When I pulled away, his eyes were wide, a mixture of shock and something else I couldn't quite decipher flickering within them.
He pulled me close, his thumb brushing away another stray tear that had escaped my notice. "You say you love me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"I do," I confirmed, leaning into his touch. "More than anything ."
A ghost of a smile played on his lips, a hesitant bloom against the pale canvas of his face. Then, with a shaky breath, the words I longed to hear spilled from his lips.
burying his face in my neck leaving a soft kiss before whispering in my ear “ I…love you too Y/N”
In that close embrace, the rain seemed to lose its roar, replaced by the frantic drumming of my heart against Mattheo's chest. His words echoed in my mind, a melody sweeter than any song.
"You... love me too?" I breathed, needing to hear it again.
He chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Like crazy in love with you "
A choked sob escaped my lips, and he tightened his hold around me.
"Don't cry," he said, his thumb gently brushing away the tear that escaped down my cheek. "This is a good thing, isn't it?"
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. It was more than good.
he closed the gap between us. Unlike the tentative kiss before, this one was filled with a raw, desperate urgency. He poured his emotions into it.
When we finally pulled apart, breathless and shaky, his forehead rested against mine. He stared at me for a beat, his chest rising and falling rapidly before a genuine, unguarded smile bloomed across his face.
"So, " he drawled, a teasing glint in his gaze, "about that ankle of yours?"
My cheeks burned with a blush that had nothing to do with the rain. "Oh, it's miraculously healed," I mumbled, looking away playfully. "Must be the magical properties of this particular oak tree."
He laughed , a sound so rich and warm that it chased away the remaining chill from the downpour.
"Right," he said, a playful edge to his voice, "and I suppose the boy I pushed magically turned into a harmless bundle of sunshine too?"
I couldn't help but grin at his teasing. "Perhaps," I kissed his cheek . "Maybe the rain washed away his bruises ."
He feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. "Everyone knows the only thing rain washes away is a good hairstyle , Also about that…maybe I owe Theo and Enzo a massive apology, and maybe that boy a new nose."
“ I would have said a new face “
“Merlin knows what McGonagall will say if she finds out. Detention for a lifetime, that's my guess."
A giggle escaped my lips as we settled back a playful glint back in his eyes, "does this mean I have to carry you back to the castle... or can you miraculously walk again?"
I swatted him playfully on the arm, a smile tugging at my lips. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, Riddle," I teased, a light laugh escaping my lips.
"Actually," he countered, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "it already has."
He dipped his head, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. The rain continued its rhythmic drumming on the oak leaves above, creating a secluded world for the two of us.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle masterlist#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys#fluff imagines
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I uh, came here from the stepbro!Siri with a corruption kink... I was wondering if you could do more stepbro!Siri? But uhm maybe like "stepbro!Siri x reader +best friend mooney" ? If you're uncomfortable with this request, you can just ignore this... I also wanted to know if I could be Anon ✨?
Omg I’m so sorry this took me so long and of course you can be an anon if you want to lovely
Also this is unfinished so ask for another part if u want :)
Smut below the cut
—
“Hey there sweetheart,” your step brother calls to you, spreading his legs further across the sofa and patting his knee in invitation, “why don’t you come n’ sit with me and Moony for a bit, hey?”
You try to move towards them as confidently as possible, but your trembling hands and adverted gaze betrays you. You fall gracelessly into the arms of the shaggy-haired man, holding back a surprises giggle at the way his nose tickles against your neck.
“Isn’t she just the cutest, Moons?” You can feel the smirk of your step brother widen against your warmed cheeks, your embarrassment heightened by how he speaks about you like you’re not even in the room.
“She’s really something,” comes the drawl of the other man, his hand creeping up your exposed thigh, exploring the skin with languid strokes. Your body instinctively leans into his touch as his nimble fingers reach toward the hem of your skirt, simultaneously pushing up and shying away from his touch, “a shy one though, huh?”
“She’ll warm up to her soon enough, mate,” Sirius assures, one hand moving to boldly rest on your right breast, almost a show of his ownership of you, “only took her two days before she started crawling into my bed ‘nd begging for it,”
Remus makes a humming sound of approval at that, finally garnering eye contact with you and raising an eyebrow and tapping your thigh, waiting for your approval before diving his hand beneath your skirt, stroking his cold fingers up and down your uncovered pussy lips.
“No panties?” The grin on his face usurpes the disappointment in his tone. Sirius let’s out an incredulous scoff.
“Please, she hasn’t worn panties since the first day I fucked her,” his hand slips beneath your shirt and his fingers start flicking over your nipples, “always wants to be fucked now, the poor thing. She’ll probably get even more greedy now she’s got two of us,”
“Siri?” You crane your neck to finally make eye contact with him. Both boys cease their movements to watch you, intrigued by what you’d say while speaking for the first time in the night, “what- what do you mean two of us?”
“Well darling,” he smooths a kiss to the crown of your head, “moony over here needs someone to take care of him, doesn’t he? You don’t want him to get lonely, do you?”
You don’t even have to think about it; you shake your head with a pout. Remus seems nice, and his fingers are working wonders on your clit, his movements now resumed as Sirius talks.
“Well, I said that moony can fuck you sometimes, y’know, to help us all out,” he shrugs, spreading your legs further out on his lap so he can get a good glimpse of your pussy as Remus works it over.
“I promise I’ll be good to you, pretty girl,” the taller boy adjusts himself until his cheek rests against the inside of your thigh, so close to your cunt that his tongue scrapes across your clit with every word from his mouth, “so long as you follow my rules,”
#•megs ask box•#•megs smutty daydreams•#sirius x reader#sirius black x reader#siriusxremus#sirius black fluff#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fanfiction#remus x you#wolfstar#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar smut#marauders era#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders smut#harry potter x reader smut#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#harry potter x fem!reader
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gameboy :: p.js — one
genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au
cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more
wc: 18.257k
join the taglist for part two
18+ minors do not interact!
The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh.
“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.”
“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.
“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,”
You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”
“First day of the semester for you, too?”
You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.”
He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,”
“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-”
It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice.
He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound.
Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.
It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.
Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.
“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”
Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink.
“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.
He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him.
“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–”
As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out?
His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene.
Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole.
In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-
“Sung? Sung!”
“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.
“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...”
Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second.
“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.”
You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.
Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.
After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.
What the fuck even was that?
A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself.
With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.
It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.
Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.
“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all.
The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.”
It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows.
His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway.
Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts.
His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-
sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM
Shit, shit, shit.
He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later.
“Hello?”
Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still.
“Sung?”
As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.
“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously.
Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed.
He hears you yawn and smiles fondly.
“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…”
You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep.
“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”
God, no, he thinks.
Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard.
His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips.
A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.
As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.
Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before.
“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9.
“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs.
Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do.
Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.
The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.
Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time.
There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.
She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.
“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.”
There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.
“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.”
As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan.
It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk.
Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke.
Could it be… No. No way.
Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks.
It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does.
“Park Jisung?”
With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it.
She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,
“You’re welcome, Professor.”
His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.
He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure.
An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation.
“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks.
“Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?”
“Will we be able to select our partners?”
“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand.
“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it! “Will you assign those as well?”
Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.
He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face.
Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you.
You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous.
He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away.
There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner.
You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!”
“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,”
It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind.
The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before.
After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier.
It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat.
“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.”
I know! He thinks.
“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?”
Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.
He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way.
When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002.
“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-”
“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.
He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?”
“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.”
Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week.
“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?”
“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.”
“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”
“How so?”
“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.”
One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too.
Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game; this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off.
On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat.
He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas.
Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.
With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention.
When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left.
He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then.
“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”
Yeah… he’ll think more on that later.
With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.
He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline.
Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom.
By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing.
When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face.
With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly.
Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.
It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you.
A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop.
The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch.
“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn.
“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,”
As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.”
“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”
“Like an e-date?”
“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.”
He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?”
Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest.
God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that.
“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?”
There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,”
He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?”
Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head.
“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?”
“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless.
“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?”
“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.”
He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?”
You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.”
“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening.
You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.
“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again.
“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended.
“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.”
“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks.
With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,”
“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it.
“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty.
“I like you, too.”
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
“The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.”
The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures.
“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”
When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina.
The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her.
“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.”
The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier.
“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.”
Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this.
After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake.
That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.”
It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed.
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM
hi
did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM
you’re so cute
i can barely think
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM
i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM
i should get to sleep
but i don’t wanna stop texting you
ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM
goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back
Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.
Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly.
“Your partner will be,”
Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’
“Lee Chan.”
Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view.
“Your constellation is-”
With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.”
For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out.
“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.”
In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours.
Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.”
Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction.
You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.
“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.”
You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.
“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in.
“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.”
“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,”
You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes.
Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far.
Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too.
As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast.
As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today.
“Is this seat taken?”
So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.
“No.” He replies shortly.
With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself.
“You’re Ji-sun, right?”
“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together. After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance.
“W-what?”
“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice.
“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.”
“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief.
“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—”
“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.”
“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-”
To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you.
There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop.
“Any of those work for me,”
“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”
“Sure.”
“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back.
“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you at the door with her partner.
Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether.
Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you.
At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information.
In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you.
Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message.
To: 555-111-0205
hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me
know if you’re free to exchange notes.
Sent at 5:52 PM.
Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead.
Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205
“Hi-”
“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?”
He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,”
“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum.
“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,”
“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper.
“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later.
Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.
In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.
“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”
“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought.
“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs.
With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.”
“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”
“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.”
“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory.
The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week.
More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside.
The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’
The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message.
“Computer Lab 4C?”
Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it.
It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back.
“Down the hall, second door on your right.”
It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both?
To: 555-111-0205
hey again. i’m outside :)
Sent at 6:18 PM.
The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile.
“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,”
There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,”
“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.”
He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research.
“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’
You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person.
The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head.
“Jisung? You okay?”
“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs.
For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.”
Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?”
“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.”
“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?”
Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.
The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence.
Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand.
Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.
Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm.
“You live close by?”
“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.”
Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.”
He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile.
“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap.
“I’ll see you in class?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home.
The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own.
On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.
You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too.
“Hi…”
“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.
“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”
“I-thanks but,”
“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?”
There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time.
“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?”
Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose.
•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before.
“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.”
Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside.
Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here.
“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste.
“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”
“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—”
“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare.
“—then she’ll be there, too.”
“So, what happened with… what’s her name, Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?”
“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,”
There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place.
In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online.
He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record.
Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar.
“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.”
“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,” Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys.
“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.”
Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long.
“Do you know if Chaewon is here?”
Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this.
“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,”
“Yo, what do you mean bounce?”
He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.”
The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go.
Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.
“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.”
“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.”
“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.”
As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting.
“Mark, there’s so many girls here.”
“I know, but—”
“But Chaewon.”
Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…”
“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.”
“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.
“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out, “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.”
Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung.
So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue.
It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up.
“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.”
It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else.
Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech.
“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—”
When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur.
Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you.
First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either.
He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.
Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.
The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around.
“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?”
Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.”
There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,”
“I’m fine—“
“This should help,”
“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—”
“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.”
You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it.
“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?”
“How about the library?”
You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,”
“Right…”
“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity.
“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,”
“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else.
“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”
“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.”
As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat.
“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—”
“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,”
“Foul.”
“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,”
“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.
“I can tell. You’re stumbling.”
He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?”
There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”
He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks.
"It’s that building right over there,” he points.
“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”
The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets.
“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.”
You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take.
Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.”
As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made.
“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed.
“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.”
“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.”
“That’s why you’re always at the library?”
You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.
“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors.
“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.”
Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you.
“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”
Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,”
“Thank you, Jisung.”
There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now.
You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate.
Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse.
When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape.
“You okay?”
His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room.
“Yeah, I’m almost done!”
“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”
Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning.
“You’re Ji-sun, right?”
“—Sung.”
The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung.
And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar.
Could it be…
“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already.
“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…
“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.”
Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you.
As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance…
Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!”
If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him.
“Sung? Right? That’s you?”
He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks.
“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?
“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?”
He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say.
Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck.
“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face.
“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you.
“Since when did you know it was me?”
“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.”
Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating.
“I was so excited when I found out,”
“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you.
“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…”
“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment.
“You’re really pretty in person.”
In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye.
“What’s that—”
“Oh nothing! It’s just—”
“Is that my cardigan?”
Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…
“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—”
As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut.
“Are these—”
His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—”
“Jisung.”
“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”
“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?”
“I-”
“Were you?” You ask sternly.
He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips.
There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable:
“Show me.”
*. * ·
taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe
there are some users that couldn't be tagged, as tumblr did not recognize their accounts. sorry :((
#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct fanfic#nct#nct reactions#nct moodboard#nct dream#nct 127#nct smut#park jisung fluff#park jisung#jisung x reader#park jisung scenarios#nct dream reactions#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#jisung imagines#jisung smut#nct jisung#nct icons#park jisung smut#nct jisung smut#catboyieejeno#catboyieejeno gameboy#jisung nct#nct dream imagines#jisung scenarios#nct dream scenarios
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Heat → Miguel O’Hara
pairing: miguel o’hara x afab!reader
warnings: smut! MDNI! there’s no piv, just dry (wet) hmping. dom!miguel. panty fcking. light degrading. mentions of menstrual cycle.
prompt: Miguel doesn’t take his rapture serum, letting his more animalistic tendencies surface.
note: this has been my brainrot for several days now bc my bf did it to me and i😵💫 please practice safe & clean sex! you can mess up your pH balance especially with something like this, so please make sure you know the proper aftercare. love u
He could smell you. The scent of your wet slick between your thighs sent him in a frenzy, not to mention that you were ovulating. So this intense wave of horniness would hit you randomly. You’d been trying so hard to concentrate on the mission report that Jess was delivering, squeezing your thighs to gain some friction.
As Jess wrapped up the mission report, Miguel dismissed everyone. Everyone except for you. A wave of panic shot through you. You knew there was better choices to be made during the mission, but was it worth getting reprimanded for?
“What is this about?” you spoke softly, stepping forward. The release of your tightened thighs only released the scent of your dripping pussy even more so. As you stepped closer, the scent filled his nostrils and he had to stop his eyes from rolling back.
“You were helping Lyla reproduce my rampage serum earlier this week.” Miguel finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t asking, he was stating the fact. So you were unsure what he wanted from you.
“Yeah, you had me stay back from a mission because I was feeling unwell.” you period was so crippling that day. You still wanted to make an impact so you asked Miguel for an alternative project to work on. “Is there a problem?”
The question made him chuckle dryly. You felt her pulse at the sound. That, you couldn’t help. He turned giving you what seemed like a grin. A sadistic grin.
“When you updated the inventory,” he waved his hand and a computer monitor came up. Video footage of you storing 6 vials into his cabinet pulled up. You had turned in your rolling chair to lean over as you went to fill out the fields on the computer.
Your name
The date
The serums you were making updates to
The quantity
You squinted your eyes at the footage. Oh. Seemingly enough, you had fatfingered an extra number on the file and saved it carelessly before exiting the lab.
“I was under the impression that I had another 10 vials to last me before I had to make more. I actually would have asked you to assist me in that again, but because of your mistake,” he swiped his hand again, making the video feed disappear and taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up. “I am all out.” he wasted no time grabbing you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you understand what that means cariño?”
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wincing as his grip on your throat tightened. You reached up to grab his wrist, giving it a squeeze.
He ignored your apology. “And while Lyla is scrambling to make a new batch, I have sit here and smell you.” if his teeth wasn’t dripping with venom, his voice was. This didn’t help your problem. You could feel the wetness collecting at the crotch of your suit. The way he was manhandling you? Scolding you as a means to humiliate you? He took a whiff of the air once more, blinking a few times before narrowing his eyes at you. “Is this- Are you getting aroused by this?” you didn’t have to answer, he could smell it.
Due to his lack of rampage, his senses seemed to have heightened. He was more aware, he had to be. He was like an animal released in the wild with no limits to his terrain.
He needed you just as much as you needed him. He’d take you as quickly as he could, oh but he knew it would take patience. As mean and broody as he was, he was still a gentleman, when he wanted to be. Images of you being manhandled, moaning with him touching every inch of your body. He blinked a few times realizing you were using your powers on him. You could project thoughts into ones mind.
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses there. Miguel teasingly dragged his fangs against the soft skin at your neck, making you whimper.
“Don’t stop,” you huffed out. Your sexual frustrations were agonizing, body heating up quickly as your dripping slick grew warmer. The sounds that were coming from you reminded Miguel of the sounds that a prey would make when it was caught. The primal instinct was to bite you, mark you as his territory.
A sweet little moan escaped passed your lips. Miguel looked down and seen your thumbs caressing your nipple through your suit. He could see the hardened mound, how painful it looked. The thought of you pleasuring yourself underneath him would have been more than okay… if he wasn’t feeling territorial.
Miguel flicked your hand away, grasping your breast in his free hand, his other still tightly around your throat. He palmed over your sensitive bud, the feeling of a more calloused hand over your boob feeling sensational. You didn’t care how needy your mewls had sounded, you were unbelievably turned on out of your mind. Whatever he was willing to give you, you would take. The moans falling passed your lips were caught with his.
You would occasionally buck your hips into his, emitting a growl as he lightly bit your bottom lip. You needed friction. Anything to relieve the growing pain. With control, you bucked your hips slowly, making sure to drag the pool of wetness onto his suit. You’d let out a breathless ‘heh’ as you felt him through his suit.
Oh and he could feel you alright. The one stroke alone had left a wet on his suit. He quickly commanded for his suit to disappear and he was suddenly bare in front of you.
He was mouthwateringly gorgeous. His chiseled chest through his suit was a masterpiece. And now that it was bare right in front of you? He looked too delicious to be consumed. His waist was slim in comparison to his chest, yet bulky and defined. His happy trail lead down to something that you would consider very happy to see you. It wasn’t just the girth that intimidated you, it was the length as well. How the hell was he going to fit that in you without breaking you or tearing you in half?
He wasted no time in tearing at the crotch of your suit.
“Hey!” you whined. You’d made your own suit. You were actually one of the only spider people without an upgraded suit. The first version of your suit was your now ruined suit.
“I’ll program you another suit princesa,” he panted, gasping as your silky red underwear came into view. Though the wet patch of your underwear presented a more maroon color. He lifted you up on his desk, pushing his keyboard and mouse off in the process. He bent down, taking a whiff of your clothed, soaked pussy.
His eyes glossed over crimson. Miguel wasn’t even sure if he had ever been this aroused before. Maybe it was because he couldn’t remember a damn day where he was out of his serum. He pressed your lips together in a hard kiss, jerking his hips forward so the leaky tip of his cock would press against your puffy clit.
“M’gonna fuck you with your panties on,” he mumbled against your lips. He guided his cock underneath your panties, collecting the wetness from your crying pussy. The tightness of your underwear was enough to keep his cock firmly pressed against your slit.
You bucked your hips eagerly, whimpering as the feeling of his cock against your pussy stimulated the most sensitive part of you. He switched hands; one resumed its position at the base of your neck, pinning you down on his desk and the other held your thigh as it was hiked over his hip.
Miguel rutted his hips, letting out a sigh of relief. Although it wasn’t the inside of your plush, wet heat, this would do. The scent of you enveloped him and he could only imagine what your velvety walls would feel like fluttering around him.
“More, please.” you begged, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel yourself wanting more than just the slow rolling of the hips.
“Oh,” Miguel pursed his lips, looking down at you. “Look at you so desperate for my cock.” he was talking down on you again, making your jaw fall slack as he slowly picked up the pace, stimulating your clitoris a little more.
The sounds that were coming from the underside of his cock rubbing against your wet slit were pornographic almost. Slosh, slosh, slosh. If he could drown in your puddles of wetness, he’d be all in you every second of everyday.
“Cock hungry and I haven’t even been inside of you,” he coo’d. He drew his hips back, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds. Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours as he gently prodded past your pussy lips.
At this point, it was like you were the animal. Bucking your hips in desperation, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded - as you begged him to break you. He could take you however he wanted, he could make it hurt, you just needed him.
“You’re gonna shut up and take what I give you, like the slut you are. Do you understand me?” his voice was stern enough to pull you from your cock drunk state. You nodded your head. “Use your words, princesa.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir,” you answered before he shoved his fingers into your mouth, to which you suckled on with joy.
“That’s my good girl,” he gave you positive reinforcement. Slowly begin to move his hips again, only this time he had his thumb placed on top of the fabric of your panties, so he could keep the placement of his cock over your clit.
His pace was unforgiving. The sound of you begging so desperately for his cock echoing. The image of you crying over not being fucked was glued to the back of his eyelids. You were so cock drunk already, it made him wonder how long you’d been thinking about him fucking you.
Images of you fucking yourself with your fingers, free hand pinching your nipple while moaning his name popped up in his head. Here you were, projecting images into his head once more. As he’s fucking you through your panties, he can feel the grip of your mouth releasing his fingers. Your mouth was ajar as he pistoned his hips against yours, your moans and his grunts filling the room.
“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, your hand capturing your breast. “Please, can I come?”
How obedient. Still asking him permission after he told you to take whatever it was he was giving. How much were you wrapped around his finger?
“Yeah baby, you can come. Come for me,” he leaned over, mumbling into your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” hearing that made you whimper in his ear as you released the knot that was forming in your stomach.
“Fuu-“ you whined, arching your back against him. Your walls clenched around nothing, wishing you could milk him for every drop. You felt your body convulse as euphoria took over you, your cheeks flushed red as your legs shook around Miguel. He could feel your hard nipples on his bare chest. In the frenzy you were in, he had no idea how you were even coherent enough to reach down between you two. Your hand kept his cock in place while your thumb circled around his sensitive tip.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He imagined the softness of your hands being as soft as you were on the inside as he pounded you. His hips began to stammer as he released his load into your panties, with a guttural moan. His hips slowed and he rested his forehead against yours.
You could feel how heavy your panties were. They were slicked down from the wetness of your pussy, and now they were filled with Miguel’s cum.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel muttered.
“Huh?” he heard Jess’ voice in confusion.
He blinked and suddenly Jess, Peter, and you surrounded him. Just as you did during the mission report. Jess and Peter were confused to say the least, but not you.
Your smug grin confirmed Miguel’s thoughts. You had been using your powers to project your sexual fantasies in his head.
“Ay coño,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”
#someone tell my bf to dick me down pls i beg#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#atsv miguel#alia writes
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angst to fluff matt sturniolo but he's stubborn about talking it out with reader so it lasts long to the point where reader gets frustrated yk? maybe this is too specific 😭 also if u do this, do it however!!
did you mean it? - m.s
pairings: matt sturniolo x reader
summary: matt accidentally says "i love you" and just pretends it never happened, leaving the reader sad and conflicted.
warning(s): angst, confession, crying? (idk help 😭)
"this is why i fell in love with you" he says and i freeze
he loves me?
i look at him, blank expression on my face
(which is definitely not how my mind is reacting)
his face turns bright red
"you-" i start but get interrupted
"i didn't mean it like that" he says and i feel my heart drop
"oh, okay.." i say, almost in a whisper
my heart just shattered into a million pieces. matt, my boyfriend, the love of my life, doesn’t mean it like that.
we continue making dinner, the awkward silence filling the room.
suddenly nick and chris come downstairs, and for some reason i'm actually thankful for it.
they start talking to us but my mind is elsewhere, maybe it's my fault. i mean, i didn't say it back fast enough which could've caused matt to second guess, or he just didn't mean it, or-
"y/n you there?" nick says and i snap out of my thoughts
"yeah! yeah im here.." i say with a dry tone and a short smile
i'm too upset to be cheerful right now.
we finish making dinner and finish eating, which is when me and matt decide to watch a movie.
throughout the film, i noticed how matt started acting like nothing happend
i hate it.
i feel like we should at least talk about it, or like.. mention it again?
maybe it wasn't that big of a deal
maybe i should let it go
or maybe, matt is being stubborn.
"matt" i say, abruptly
"yes love?" he says and i feel shivers go down my spine
do i really wanna ruin this? now?
i just am so in my head i cannot leave things like that.
"i- uh.." my words get caught in my throat and i feel like i can't get out what i wanna say
maybe it's for the better.
"i'm gonna go, home- yeah." i say
"oh, okay." he answered
i quickly grab my keys and jacket, saying bye to nick and chris, then giving matt a quick hug and immediately leaving.
fuck fuck fuck, what do i even do.
i get home and feel a sense of lonliness, emptiness fill me.
i can't help but burst into tears
i messed up
i don't know why my mind immediately went to it being my fault, i guess that's just my instinct, matt was actually the one who noticed i always assumed things were my fault, so he would always reassure me thing's weren't.
after that whole situation earlier though, things are different this time.
the thought of matt makes me cry harder.
minutes pass, then hours, and suddenly its been a day.
it's currently 10pm, the last time i heard from matt was yesterday, when i left his house actually..
i've been crying all day just watching TV
i am a mess.
suddenly i get a knock on the door
i wipe my tears, running to the bathroom to make sure my nose and eyes arent red anymore (which thankfully arent)
i look fine, i look like i've been fine.
perfect.
i run back to the door, quickly opening it, knowing i've kept whoever waiting long enough
matt.
i go speechless, like, i literally don't have the words, and even if i did, i'm not sure what i'd say.
"you're a mess" he says, breaking the silence
"i'm not a mess" i exclaim and he looks down with a laugh
"i can tell you've been crying" he adds on, confirming his 'i'm a mess' comment.
fuck, this boy knows me too well.
i open the door wider, gesturing him to come in.
"so.. why are you here.." i ask and he turns around to face me
"because i'm stubborn and you're frustrated." he replies, causing me to look at him in confusion
"i've never lied to you, until last night. i do love you y/n, i should've said it but i just- i couldn't. and then i got scared and tried to ignore it, causing me to be distant. but every second we didn't talk i was thinking about it- i was thinking about you."
all this information is too much for my slow brain to process
"so you- you meant it? you love me?" i repeat and he steps closer to me
"yes y/n, i love you" he states and i smile
he puts his hands on my waist and kisses me
we pull away, still inches away from eachother
"i love you too matt."
TAGLIST:
@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo headcannons#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew x reader#matt fanfic#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo#fluff#angst#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo imagine#madispeaks!
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consider; multiverse shenanigans with a spider!reader where they make some offhand comment about how their heat/rut is coming up soon and they'll need some volunteers to cover patrols while they're down and half the society is like 'o damn that sucks, yeah i can swing a tuesday' and the other half is like 'your WHAT is coming up???'
and it turns out that a decent chunk of the multiverse has no idea what a/b/o orientations even are and it somehow just got totally lost in translation until that very second that this was a thing. what do you mean omega???? what the fuck do you mean you just thought i was a really boring smelling beta?????????? y'all motherfuckers are SNIFFING PEOPLE?!?!?!?!
now consider a miguel that is not from an a/b/o verse hearing about this and doing a little research to figure out exactly what a heat/rut is and just getting sucked down a rabbit hole and going feral for the idea that you're going to be in a highly suggestible and vulnerable state for nearly a WEEK and he's going to miss it!!! he didn't get invited!!!! what the fuck!!! the man spends a solid 48 hrs immersed in really bad multiversal porn and comes out the other end hungover and weeping that he nearly missed out on this
so he takes it upon himself to do a little rearranging, some scheduling, some scheming, and lo and behold you find yourself stuck in this crappy half-built nest in nueva york with miguel, who has no real idea how he's supposed to actually perform for you while ur like this and is just making it up as he goes- and totally ignoring the cultural and consent issues he's digging up doing this bc its biology right? so its fine? people in ur universe do this all the time, he has no idea why ur complaining just let him help u out jeez-
Some rando Spiderperson intending to be transphobic: --and they want us to accept everyone as whatever they say they wanna be now, as if men can get pregnant!
Reader, without skipping a beat: what the actual fuck are you talking about, my father carried me and my siblings for 6 months
Miguel is just starting to know you and is actively trying to learn more about you and one day you just, I dunno, you two do a mission together and he gives you praise and you just look at him with a big smile 😊 and your ass straight up PURRS for a few moments and he's just like 🥺❤️ gatito... ❤️
The man sees you talking to Jess and Peter B one day and O'Hara is watching from a distance because he's, awkward and not sure how to approach you, and suddenly his super hearing can pick up someone in the room talking idly about you, or even explaining ABO stuff to another person. "Yeah, see em over there, holding Peter Bs kid? Those Omega always have nurturing instincts. It's cause they're wired to spit out tons of babies. They're the breeders. They even have natutal pheromones to calm down their mates and friends and children" and suddenly Miguel's ears are burning "youre tellin me my darling might wants lots of little babies running around? Fantastic."
Mexican/Irish and also Catholic Miguel who wants one of those STUPID HUGE families where people have at least 6 kids and it's like "oh a typical Omega pregnancy usually has at least two or three babies in one go and theyre shorter than normal human pregnancies huh? Interesting :)"
Some members of the Spider Society are like "why is Miguel kind of lowkey being a dick to me all the time now" oh well its very simple you see, Miguel read your file and found out you're an Alpha and you share this weird connection and also natural biological attraction to HIS lil honeybee and He Hates You Now. Fuck off out his house and don't let him see you talking to his baby or else
He gets really close to you one day, I mean like physically, or hey maybe emotionally too, and he's hugging you and he gets a whiff of your scent and it's something he can't even describe, something that has a carnal biological effect on his where he just wants to keep holding you and hearing your voice like a drug, like it's oxytocin on crack, and suddenly in true scientist fashion he's researching you, your universe, its history, its medicine, its culture.
Can't help but imagine a Miguel who goes full yandere and gives no fucks about doing what he wants for darling and splices his DNA with Alpha DNA so he can officially claim you as a mate, scenting, knotting, and everything. Lyla gives you instructions to meet him in a specific place and it turns out he's been experimenting on himself and he's deep in a rut and suddenly your knees are getting pushed into your chest and you're getting passionately knotted and filled up by a grunting growling purring Miguel who's leaving love bites and kisses all over your skin, just, his size alone would make him hard to get away from, you don't even need to add Alpha instincts and being able to track your pheromones on top of that 😳
Miguel "just let me 'help you as a friend'" O'Hara who tracked when your next heat was going to kick in and maybe even drugged you so it comes at a specific time and he makes it where the two of you are together or even trapped or something when it happens and, here he is, "oh just let me help you, isn't it hurting" but like. We all know it's because he wants to. Like could you even imagine he's, you know, using his fingers and he goes to remove his pants or free himself or whatever and you're just like "no I'll get pregnant" and he just kind of has a Microsoft error window in his brain because it's like. Oh you'll get almost DEFINITELY pregnant? Guaranteed? You're trying to tell the man you dont want to and instead at least internally he's like "promise? 👉��"
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christmas decorations?
sae x reader
genre(s): fluff
warnings(s): reader implied to be shorter once, you decorate for christmas :|
when u want to write for a prompt but think of another one when writing and stuff and then this happens and yeah
“what the hell is this?” the question slipped past sae’s lips without any thought, his eyes reflecting the warm lights you decorated around your shared apartment. the scent of a welcoming vanilla threw him off as well as the sight of christmas decorations replacing much of his earlier modern ones. it didn’t take much to figure out the person who set it all up, especially with you peeking around the corner with a small grin taking over your lips.
“welcome home, sae,” you greeted, completely ignoring his earlier question. you padded up to him, enveloping him in a warm hug he didn’t hesitate to half return, his eyes still wandering the bright sights in front of him.
“what is all of this?” he asked again, much nicer than last time. you could only smile at the question, turning around to see the same sight as him.
“it’s christmas decorations; remember how we both agreed to decorate the apartment?” you explained as you turned back around to see his usual deadpan face turned into one of dumbstruck.
sae, hard to believe or not, was one to decorate during the holidays. sure, he put a small tree out and some winter themed candles, after all what else would he need? so, when he agreed to decorate the apartment he expected nothing more than his usual decorations, not a whole christmas town in his apartment. how did you even do all of this by yourself?
“did you mean to turn my apartment to the north pole?” he narrowed his eyes, his unfiltered question slipping off his tongue with such ease.
“sae!” you slapped his arm, drawing his eyes down to you, “it’s normal to decorate your apartment like this!” you reasoned, crossing your arms before him. “and it’s our apartment.”
he looked at you as if you had grown a third head, with you glaring at him right back. you two stood like this for a minute, no words needing to be said as enough was told through the eye contact you both held. it was after that minute when sae finally gave in with a sigh, stripping himself of his coat and shoes, his eyes trailing upwards once more to take in the new apartment.
“you gonna leave milk and cookies out for santa too?” he mockingly asked as he hung up his coat before walking forward.
“oh, shut up,” you responded with an eye roll, following behind him. despite his mean words, you knew he would allow the decorations to stay and would even get used to them. you slipped in between his arm and the side of his torso, leaning gently onto him as he continued to take in the sight. his arm gently rubbed up and down your arm, an instinctive move that he barely put any thought into as his eyes caught onto the bare christmas tree.
“why does the tree look so plain?” he broke the silence with another question before looking down at you. he was met with another grin from you as you met his gaze once again.
“i wanted to put the ornaments on with you.” you gave him a nudge, his eyes rolling at the action before he gave you his normal deadpan. “oh, come on sae! please, i just wanna have a cute couple moment for the both of us,” you pleaded, standing up from your earlier leaning position on him to show you were serious.
he hated himself for finding you adorable for wanting something so simple, and he for sure hated himself for giving another sigh before giving into you once more. he gave you a gentle push towards the tree, signaling you he would follow behind. “fine,” he grumbled, drawing an excited giggle from you. with a tug on his hand, you made sure he followed you to the box of ornaments sitting next to the empty christmas tree.
sure, he might’ve bickered with you the whole time, but maybe he did enjoy coming home to more than a small tree as his only decoration.
unedited. thanks for reading!
#I NEVER KNOW HOW TO END THESE!!!#ooc?????#help i haven’t seen sae in forever so idk!!#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk imagines#blue lock imagines#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#blue lock sae#bllk sae#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae x reader
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Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u
Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? 😅
Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo
“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝!”
Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.
Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo
Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.
𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞
𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ He was focusing a little too hard.
✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”
✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—
✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path
✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough
✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response
✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him
✧ A sneak attack.
✧ Instincts go: 📈
✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes
✧ “Jake!”
✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error
✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?
✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants
✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?
✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”
✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…
✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)
𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.
✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.
✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.
✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”
✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you.
You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”
✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)
✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.
✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.
✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”
✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”
✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”
✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.
✧ It’s…
✧ 😰
✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”
✧ You nod.
✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”
✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.
✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.
✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.
✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.
✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.
✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.
✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.
✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”
✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”
𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨
𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.
✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.
✧ But…
✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”
✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.
✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).
✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”
✧ The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.
✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.
✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.
✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.
✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-
✧ “Euntae-!”
✧ Smack.
𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”
✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.
✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.
✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.
✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.
✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”
✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.
✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.
✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.
✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.
✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.
✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)
✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.
✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳
✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.
✧ The room: …
You: …
You: 🫥
✧ “…What?”
✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.
✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”
✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.
✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”
✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.
✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.
✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”
✧ Vasco: 🥺😰
✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random.
✧ No- he will not forgive himself.
✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.
✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.
𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤
✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.
✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.
✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.
✧ But then this guy showed up.
✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.
✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.
✧ “You work out bro~?”
✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.
✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.
✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”
✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”
✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.
✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)
✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.
✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.
✧ And that’s it. The final straw.
✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-
✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.
✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…
✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?”
(Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’
✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.
✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.
✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.
✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…”
“I already told you it’s fine.”
“But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”
✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞
✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.
✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.
✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.
✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.
✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.
✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.
✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.
✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.
✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.
✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.
✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.
✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.
✧ “Know you place, Duri.”
✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-
✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.
✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.
✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”
✧ Great. Gross.
✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”
✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.
✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”
✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.
✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore.
“Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”
✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)
✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.
✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.
✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-
✧ Blocked.
✧ (Y/N)…?
✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.
✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”
———
✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).
✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.
✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.
✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.
✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.
✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.
✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.
✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”
✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”
✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.
(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)
𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧
✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.
✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.
✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔
✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.
✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.
✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”
✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.
✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.
✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”
✧ “Still not my problem.”
✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”
✧ “Did not!”
✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”
✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.
✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.
✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.
✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.
✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.
✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.
✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.
✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.
✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.
✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.
✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.
✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”
✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-
✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.
✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…
✧ In fights.
✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.
✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.
✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—
✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”
✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.
✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.
✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.
✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.
✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.
✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.
✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”
✧ -He gawks in surprise
✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.
✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.
✧ “…That does look pretty bad.”
Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.
✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.
✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.
✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.
✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.
✧ ‼️
✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.
✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…
✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧
✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”
✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.
✧ It’s just not happening.
✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.
✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents.
“You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”
✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.
✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.
✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.
✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.
✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…
✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.
✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.
✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.
✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”
✧ Nevermind then…
✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.
✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”
✧ (Y/N)…. (Y/N)….
✧ You….
✧ “You-!?” Slam
✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—
✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.
✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.
✧ The fight isn’t over.
✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”
✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”
✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.
✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.
✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”
✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.
✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋
✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?
✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.
✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.
✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.
✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.
✧ “I’ll be fine.”
✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”
✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”
✧ “…”
✧ A pause.
✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”
✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”
✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.
✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.
𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢
✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.
✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.
✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.
✧ Then the movement of his strike.
✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-
✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.
✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-
✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-
✧ Slam.
✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half.
His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.
✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…
✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.
✧ He broke your mask.
✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…
✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.
✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.
✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest.
Why Tanuki…? Of all people.
✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.
✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.
✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.
✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.
✧ “How late is it?” He asks.
✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.
✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”
✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.
✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?
✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.
✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.
✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.
✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”
✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered.
Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.
✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.
✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”
✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.
✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”
✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”
✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.
✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.
✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.
✧ “Well, ice it soon.”
✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.
✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.
✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.
✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.
✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”
✧ “Daruma…”
Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
𝐆𝐨𝐨
✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”
✧ “Goo…”
✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.
✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?
✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.
✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.
✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.
✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.
✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.
✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.
✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.
✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”
✧ “Pass. Turkey?”
✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”
✧ “Okay, how about-”
✧ “Duck!”
✧ Whack.
✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”
✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”
✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” ���We were literally talking about birds.”
✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.
✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.
✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”
✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”
✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”
✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”
#Lookism#Looking x reader#Male reader#x male reader#male reader insert#lookism x male reader#lookism x reader#lookism x you#lookism x y/n#goo kim#Lookism goo#kim joongoo#Magami Kenta#Kenta Magami#lookism workers#zack lee x reader#Zack Lee#lookism manhwa#lookism webtoon#vasco x reader#Vasco#Basco#euntae lee#euntae lee x reader#jake kim#lookism fic#lookism hc#warren chae x reader#warren chae#vin jin
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doom boy | knj
Description: idol!namjoon x reader
Content: pwp. 18+
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: dom!namjoon, switch!reader, bratty reader, brat tamer namjoon oof!!, oral (m. receiving), fingering, protected sex, like two little slaps on the cheek (namjoon best boy tho i promise), ass slapping, pet names & use of the word ‘slut’, lil secret relationship?? gasp
Author’s Note: namjoon is bias wrecking me i think that should be excuse enough. sexy nukim performance that nobody prepared us for?? he's just so tall and buff it’s making me sick. @angsttd this one’s for u baby 🫡 here to serve u.
★ masterlist ★
This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x
doom boy
When Eva’s eyes leave yours mid-sentence, your initial instinct is to follow her gaze, slightly puzzled as to what could’ve possibly caught her attention. Yes, you were in a room full of A-list celebrities, stars if you will, but it’s not like your job didn’t require you to mingle with said stars on the daily. It was hard to star-struck you at this point – not to mention Eva, who had quite literally sent out the invites to this party. She’d been responsible for the guest list, too.
It’s then you realize she’s not star-struck, no. She’s meticulously calculating her next move.
“I didn’t think they’d come,” she says, more to herself than to you.
You smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Ah…”
“Does he know I know? About the two of you, I mean.”
“Yeah. I mean, you did walk in on us.”
She pleads with her eyes, apologetic though she knows there’s no malice behind your words, just teasing. “You’ll make me take that to the grave now, won’t you?”
“If I don’t, the NDA certainly will.”
“He’s walking this way…” her voice is slightly frantic and she stares down at the bar, eyes shooting daggers at the vodka soda she tightly grips to.
“Just him?”
“No. Hobi’s with him.”
“That’s good. Less suspicious that way.”
Eva doesn’t know how it is you’re keeping your composure in times like these. She doesn’t know how you look so effortlessly unaffected by it, by him. It’s almost as if you were expecting it – the magnetic pull with which he seems to be walking towards you.
It’s Hoseok the one that takes the lead, walking right in front of Namjoon and greeting the two of you with a smile.
“Eva, ___!” He’s bubbly and it’s contagious and you can’t help but smile. Eva relaxes visibly, too.
“Hobi, so glad you could make it,” Eva says, turning to Namjoon who catches up, now standing between you and Hoseok. “The both of you!”
“Our pleasure.” Namjoon’s voice makes you crack a smile that he doesn’t see, eyes focused on the way you twirl your straw around your fizzy gin & tonic.
It’s small talk at first, mostly work related, serving as easy disguise, Eva and Hobi your accomplices as you begin to feel a shift in his body, that pull inevitably intoxicating now. It’s hard to fight it, let alone ignore it.
He leans against the counter, eyes looking ahead at the myriad of liquor bottles adorning the wall adjacent to the bar. When he talks, it’s only for you to hear.
“I have to rely on pure coincidence to see you nowadays.”
You smile. “I’ve been busy.”
“Oh, I know.”
“So have you, let’s not point fingers.”
He likes that, the assuredness with which you speak and the way your voice rarely falters, even when he can see the effect his proximity is starting to have on you. Your instincts get the best of you, and you can’t help but be grateful they did because when you finally face him, he’s looking at you, too. That signature smile adorning his face, the one that dimples his cheeks and meets his eyes a little too dreamily; like it was written with the outmost attention to detail by someone that was just as smitten as you. Only you’re not good with words, not in a way that would do the feeling honor at least.
“Are you staying much longer?”
“No.” It’s barely audible, just for him to hear. “You?”
“I’m performing.”
“That’s a pleasant surprise. Maybe I’ll stick around long enough to catch it.”
He smirks, innocently in the eyes of anyone that isn’t you. “I do like to grant you a pleasant time.”
You look away, eyes back on your drink before you’re bringing it over to your lips, a sip of liquid courage that you prolong for more reasons than one.
“Right,” you smile at him, a little too boldly, it almost makes him nervous. “I’m walking away now…”
That smile is still there as you turn around, stealing one last glance at him, the one that lets him know this is not where your evening ends. The one that sees you off with a promise. He tells himself to stop staring, to focus elsewhere the moment your back faces him but he’s too weak to listen to the voices of reason inside his head.
You’re beautiful, tempting, alluring and all of the words in the dictionary his mind scavenges for. Namjoon is good with words and he’d find them all if it meant doing you justice.
He eventually loses you in the crowd, hair falling over your shoulders and back, a tight little dress hugging you perfectly and it’s then he’s made aware the next couple of hours could very well be torture as he stands so close, yet so far away from you.
~
You pride yourself in two things in this life: your work ethic and your poker face. You’ve come to realize that when working the field you do, the latter comes in handy to power said work ethic. Keeping it professional, but most importantly, keeping yourself unfazed. It’s a wave that ripples until it oozes confidence, another much needed trait in this industry.
Right now, all your assets are failing you.
It’s not like you were expecting the lyrics girl we can keep it low while we do the ride to be accompanied by innocent stage presence but alas, you’re surprised. And yes, it’s pleasant, only unpleasantly so as you try to keep your cool as the entire room rumbles in cheers, screams and what you’re pretty sure are a couple of moans and whimpers here and there. You get it, you do. But you can’t exactly join the frenzied state of the girls and boys alike. No – you’re holding more than just attraction for him. You hold a secret.
He's sexy, confident, head rolling to the beat of the song and God when your eyes scan his body it’s hard for you to actually comprehend his proportions. Taller than most and lean, so lean yet buff. His clothes fit him like they’re painted on and you’re glad you’re not his stylist because you’d be out of a job by now. You can’t help but praise whoever took the executive decision to put him in a turtle neck, though, convinced that not even you could’ve done the job so exquisitely.
You lock gazes, if only for a second and when your mind stops spiralling over the little moment you held you cuss it out. Dismissing it, reminding yourself that this not the time, nor is it the place. Reminding yourself that in reality, cruel as it is, it never is the time or the place for the little dynamic you two have developed over the past three months.
But the moment he comes off stage and his gaze finds yours yet again, this time for longer, you know you’re doomed.
Pun intended.
~
You don’t mind it. The sneaking around, the fact that he’s essentially taking you home but in two different cars, the extra security and having to seal whatever happens behind closed doors with a signature. None of it matters because the moment you step through the door that he shuts behind you, he’s concealing you from it all, and with every step he takes to close the distance between your bodies, he distances you from reality. At least from the one that involves this messy situation that at times feels like an arrangement.
Not now, though. No. Right now it feels like the very last memory you have of his soft lips on yours, of the way he tasted and the way your breath hitched, electrifyingly so. You crave it now more than ever, but you’re not one to beg – at least not right away.
He takes one last step forward and there it is, the way your body gives you away, a heaved breath leaving you and when it does, your chests touch. He looks down at where your bodies connect for the first time today, eyes finding yours a second after.
“Want you,” he says, voice raspy as his hand wraps around your wrist gently, traveling down until his fingers are intertwined with yours. “Want you since I last had you.”
“Yeah?” He knows the question is rhetorical but he nods anyways, the sigh you let out fanning across his lips.
“Fuck, ___. Let me have you.”
“You can have me.”
The hand that once gently held yours now finds its way tangled in your tresses of hair, exploring for all but a second before he’s tightening his grip, bringing you closer until your lips are touching, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet.
“Can I? Will you be good?”
Your lips part, eyes closing, silently begging for a kiss but all it earns you is a harsh pull, his lips now too far away for your liking.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll be good.”
“Why should I believe you? You’re such a little brat, baby. Had to tame it out of you the last time.” He brings his lips to your neck, placing a soft kiss on your warm skin as his palm loses its grip, fingers gently massaging your scalp.
“I promise I’ll be good, Namjoon. I’ll be good for you. Please.”
His hand wraps around the back of your neck, softly pulling you to him until he’s placing a peck on your plump lips. Your breath is erratic, pulse raising at the mere contact and you want more. You need more.
“Please,” you plead.
“Yeah? You’re asking so nicely. You know I can’t say no to you, baby.”
You look up at him with glassy eyes, shaking your head, agreeing with him to your favour. “N-no.”
“I could never say no to you.” His voice loses that edge for a second, eyes staring into yours, telling you things your dizzy state can’t quite read but there’s no need for it. It all falls into bliss the moment his lips are on yours, with force this time. You melt into him, lips parting to let him in, his teeth nipping at your bottom one before his tongue soothes the action. You want his lips everywhere, his mark, too. He kisses you like he’s mentally mapping everything he's going to do to you and the anticipation becomes sweet torture.
His free arm wraps around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer as your hands find his hair, fingers getting tangled in the locks.
“Fuck, you’ve any idea how hard it was to perform with you in my direct line of vision?”
“No,” it’s an honest answer. You hadn’t even noticed that he could see you from up there.
His palm closes around your fingers, his own getting lost in his hair for a second before he’s bringing both your hands down and in between your bodies until you’re palming his cock over the tight fabric of his slacks. He tightens your grip until you can make the shape of him perfectly with your touch. It makes you salivate.
“Did I paint you a picture?”
“Fuck. Want you in my mouth. Please.”
“On your knees, baby.”
You slide your body down the wooden door, a bit sloppily, out of character even and he lets out a chuckle, raising an eyebrow as he sees you struggle a bit to get on a comfortable position on your knees. The hardwood makes it hard. His fingers tangle on your hair again, bending over at the waist until he’s smashing your lips against his.
“I’ll kiss them better afterwards. Promise.”
With sweet words and a kiss to your cheek, he lets you continue, eyes fixed on the way you fiddle with his belt buckle for a second before you’re freeing him from the constraint around his waist. When you undo the button of his pants, your hand pulls his shirt up until a little bit of his abdomen is exposed, soft yet firm as you place a kiss on the tanned skin. His breath hitches in anticipation, the feel of your lips against him already driving him crazy and his cock is not even out of his boxer briefs yet.
“No teasing, ___.”
“I’m not,” you look up at him, agile fingers pulling his zipper down, palm closing around his clothed cock until he’s hissing. “Just like to take my time with you.”
“Hah-,” his words are lost the moment your teeth nibble at the band of his Calvin’s, warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his pelvis. He feels like someone wired his every fucking nerve, so very supple to you. “We don’t learn, do we?”
You shake your head, a smug little smirk adorning your face as you rejoice in the way he’s complying the more your mouth travels south. His pants come down to his thighs, boxers following right after until you’re met with the very object of your desire.
Namjoon has the prettiest cock you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your hand wraps so perfectly around it, his size ensuring your fingers barely touch and his length guaranteeing a long, thick stripe from your tongue – base to tip until it’s wet enough for your hand to glide comfortably.
“Fuck,” his hand leans against the door, eyes following your every move, not wanting to miss the way your pretty lips wrap around his crown, tongue circling around the sensitive skin until you’re pulling a throaty moan out of him.
You look up as your tongue laps at him, big eyes feigning innocence as you leave little kitten licks that tease him for long enough to catch him off guard, hand placed at his base as you force yourself down his dick until the tip is hitting the back of your throat, your gag reflex only making things harder for Namjoon who has to take a deep breath to stop himself from blowing his load right then and there.
“You’re such a fucking minx,” he’s surprised he manages to get the sentence out in one breath, patience running low but his fun intensifying as you moan around his cock. If you didn’t have a mouthful right now, he could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile forming at your lips. Hands tightening on your hair, he pulls you away in one swift tug, smirking when drool drips down your chin as you try to catch your breath.
“You like me there, baby? Want me deep?”
“Yes, please.”
He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip against your tongue when you open up for him again.
“Hm. Should I fuck your mouth since you want to get brave?”
“Yes.” When you nod, his grip on your hair tightens.
“Open up.”
You comply, laying your tongue flat and taking a deep breath before you start taking him inch by inch. The thrust of his hips is slow at first, a sensual pace that has you bringing your legs closer together, but soon enough he picks up pace, making you gag with every jerk of his hips.
“Shit, that feels so good.” Your eyes begin to water, throat clenching around his crown. “You can take it, baby. Take it like my good little slut.”
You moan around his cock, the vibrations sending a dangerous signal all the way to his balls and he has to pull you off him to stop himself from coming – breathing erratic and chest flushed. Fuck, he could die this way and go happily. You look so fucked out, and all for him.
He helps you up, getting down on his own knees the moment you’re on your feet. You giggle, rolling your eyes at his sudden change of demeanour.
“Promised I’d kiss them better.” He places gentle kisses on both your knees, his palms rubbing the red skin soothingly. “I can kiss anywhere you want me to and make it better.”
Your fingers get lost in his dark hair, eyes closing in pleasure as his hand snakes in between your thighs. You love the foreplay, his tongue and his fingers and the way they move so expertly around you but you don’t think you have the patience for it today. You have to fuck him. Now.
“Need you inside me, Joonie.”
“Wanna taste you, baby.”
“Please,” you whine. “I’m so wet.”
He bites his lip, eyes on yours as his hand travels further up, eyes widening and gaze darkening the moment he comes into contact with your naked cunt. You whimper when his fingers part your lips, digits gathering your slick before they tease your clit, not quite putting the pressure you need into it, just a feather light touch.
“What’s this, huh?”
“M-my dress was too t-tight,” you say, shaky breaths leaving you.
“Hm, that’s right. So fucking tight, leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination.” His lips come into contact with your hips, biting over the fabric and you hiss, the burning feeling mixing with the pleasure.
He stands up, coming face to face with you before he’s motioning over to his bedroom with a cock of his head, slapping your ass when you take the lead, knowing your way around his home rather well at this point considering he’d fucked you in most hard surfaces.
You remove your dress upon entering his room, relieved to have the tight fabric off your body. You throw yourself onto his huge bed, crawling towards the pillows to get comfortable. He’s got other plans, though.
“Ah, not so fast. Stay there, baby.”
You simply smile at him, turning around so he can see you as you lay flat on the soft mattress, fingers lightly skimming your warm skin as you let him take you in. The dim light gives him a perfect view of you and you’re well aware that if this was any other man, you’d be too in your head to enjoy his eyes on you, but it’s Namjoon. His eyes dancing all over your naked body sends a rush of excitement pooling at your lower belly, and when his gaze finds your face and he smiles fondly, the feeling pools at your chest.
He fully discards of his pants and boxers, shirt following not too long after and when his knee hits the mattress as he begins to make his way towards you, you take the time to take him in. He looks even more toned than the last time, if that’s even possible. Forearm flexing as he strokes his cock, thick thighs clenching as he makes himself feel good to the sight of you.
His legs pry yours open as he stands between them, gaze dropping to your glistening cunt.
“I love it when you get this wet,” his thumb circles your clit, traveling down to your center and then back up, easing the glide the more you gush for him. His voice is throaty when he says, “prettiest pussy.”
“Mm, ‘s yours,” your voice is airy, dreamy even as your eyes flutter closed, a moan escaping you when his ring and middle finger enter you.
“Feel good, princess?”
“Y-yes, fuck- can’t wait to have your cock inside of me. Please, Namjoon. Need you inside.”
“How badly?”
Before you can get words out, his fingers hook inside of you, hitting that spot immediately, making you buck your hips and let out a high-pitched moan. “So fucking badly, baby- please.”
“Ride me.”
“Shit- yes.”
You’re eager, that much he can tell. Probably thinking that control has been handed back to you as you confidently push him towards his sea of pillows and swiftly throw a leg around his body, straddling him.
He pats the mattress around him until he finds the condom he’d thrown onto the bed before discarding his pants, bringing the shiny foil square to his lips and carefully ripping it open. You take the condom from him, rolling it down his shaft expertly, and a little impatiently, one hand leaning against his chest as the other guides his cock to your center, teasing yourself a few times before you begin to sink into him.
You both throw your heads back, falling into the pleasure. It feels so good, so much so it doesn’t take you by surprise when you say,
“I feel so close already,” moaning as you roll your hips against his.
His big palms grip at the flesh, stalling your movements which earns him a scowl from you.
“You cum when I say you can.”
“Joonie, please-” your voice is saccharine sweet but the attempts are unsuccessful, moan hitching on your throat as he thrusts into you with force, hand tangled in your hair once again. “F-fuck, baby.”
“God, you feel so good. Tightest pussy. Wanna fuck you forever.”
He’s merciless, fucking into you at an inhumane speed, with a force that you didn’t even think was possible from this angle, either. You can barely wrap your head around a thought, let alone articulate words as Namjoon leaves you a babbling mess on top of him.
“You’re gonna make me c-cum- you’re gonna make me cum if you go that fast, please.”
He thinks it’s cute, the desperate little tilt to your voice, eyes struggling to stay open as they lock on his, pleading for mercy. His hand travels down your ass, groping the plump skin for a second before he’s delivering a hard slap that has your back arching, his name getting caught in your throat as you mewl in pleasure. His hips don’t stop their obliterating pace and your legs begin to shake as you start to hold back from coming.
“Namjoon.” It’s a warning, head falling forward as your thighs close around his waist.
“Be good, ___.”
“I-I can’t it feels too good, fuck!” you outright scream.
“Thought you could get away- with being a brat huh, baby?” you can feel the strain in his voice, both from the physical exertion and the way his balls threaten to tip him over the edge anytime now. Your eyes flutter closed and he stops.
“What are you doing,” your question is frantic, so fucking close to your high you can feel it in your tongue.
“Ride me, baby.”
Your hips begin to move, as slowly as you can muster but Namjoon knows your body too well, he knows you know how to get yourself off expertly with his cock and it’s soon enough that you’re crying out, a desperate little whisper.
“I’ll cum.”
“Look at me, ___.” He says, and when you don’t comply, too fucked out to hold eye contact, he grabs a hold of your jaw. “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes, fuck, I want to be a good girl for you.”
“Mm, yeah. I know you can do it, baby. Come on.” His grip tightens and you know what’s coming. Your gaze gives him the permission he needs, his big palm cupping your cheek, sweetly at first before he’s drawing it back slightly, slapping the flushed skin until you’re moaning.
“Choke me,” you say, and he complies after another little slap to your cheek, big hands wrapping around your neck, just the right amount of force to have you feeling airy and just the good amount of lightheaded.
“You’re so sexy, princess. So fucking beautiful, too.” He tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly as he brings your lips down to his. “Wanna cum?”
You don’t break the kiss. “Yes, please.”
“Cum, baby. Cum around this cock.”
You don’t need more encouragement than that, body relaxing as he loosens the grip on your throat, letting go fully as your orgasm hits you in the most mind-blowing waves of pleasure. You moan into his mouth, pulling at his hair as your body shakes on top of his.
“Fuck, ___. I’m gonna cum.” You kiss him, throaty groans against your lips sending your mind into a frenzy as he shoots into the condom.
Your bodies grow weak, breathing erratic as little giggles leave the two of you, too fucked silly to even ask what it is you both find so funny – all you know is that it always seems to be the aftermath of your escapades. This inexplicable giddy feeling filling your senses, euphoric almost.
If you weren’t too drunk in lust it’d scare you.
“Wanna shower? Have some ramen? Fucking hate the finger food at those parties.”
“Want me to relay the message to my bosses?”
He laughs, leaning in to kiss you, deep and full of something you can’t quite decipher.
“I’ll wait for you in the shower.”
He pecks your lips once again and makes his way to his ensuite bathroom.
You lay there for a while, deep in aimless thoughts that you know will land you nowhere but back in his arms, in the same dynamic, the same secret.
Yet you don’t care.
Doom seems to be blissful when it comes to him.
~
stream the astronaut 👩🏼🚀!! and sexy nukim!! and left and right!! and JITB!! and christmas tree!! and with you!! and that that!! and bad decisions!! and proof!! lets get it besties 🫂
#namjoon smut#namjoon drabble#namjoon#bts#bts smut#namjoon fluff#bts namjoon#Kim namjoon#smut#namjoon x female reader#fluff#bts x reader#bts fluff#namjoon x reader#bts fanfic#namjoon fanfic#bts x female reader#kpop#college au#kpop fanfic#knj#bangtan sonyeondan#fwb au#namjoon one shot#namjoon fic#Kim namjoon one shot
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rafey getting jealous pls xx
do whatever u want with this concept #becreative ❤️
all to myself
WORD COUNT: 1.2k
SUMMARY: when you tell rafe that jj could make you come quicker than him, he's determined to show you just how wrong you are.
WARNINGS: smut, oral (f receiving), degradation, jealousy, edging?
“Heard you went to the kegger yesterday.”
Rafe’s leaning against the doorway as he says this, a bit of an edge to his tone. Maybe if you didn’t know him it would’ve gone unnoticed, but you do, and you’re not exactly surprised he’s bringing this up.
You hum in acknowledgement. “Yeah, why?”
His eyes follow your movements as you cut up some fruit for the two of you, and slowly, he makes his way over to you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist – softly, so as not to startle you – and his chin rests on your shoulder.
“You need to stop hanging out with those pogues, babe,” he mumbles against your neck, his breath tickling your skin.
“And why’s that?”
“You know why,” he grumbles, kissing your neck lightly. You shiver despite your best efforts not to when his teeth graze your skin. “They’re just no good.”
His bitter tone makes you smile to yourself, sparking an idea in your head. It wouldn’t be too mean to joke around with him, right? Just a little, since he’s so cute when he’s jealous.
“Really? I’ve heard they’re pretty good, though.”
His head snaps up from your shoulder and you turn around only to be met with Rafe’s nose scrunched, his jaw set.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he looks at you pointedly, thoughts so painfully obvious in his expression that it almost makes you laugh.
At this point, he’s setting himself up for this.
“Haven’t you heard? Every girl in town is talking about how JJ made them come in less than five minutes. Apparently he’s really good with his tongue.”
You lean back against the sink, watching as he scoffs, then runs his hand over his face in annoyance. It’s almost impossible to keep a straight face, but you manage by pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Rafe’s eyes drift to your lips as he looks at you again, letting out a puff of air that resembles a laugh.
“Every girl in town, huh?” he asks, taking a step in your direction.
In response you nod, but before you’re able to even let your giggles slip, he picks you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, ignoring your shriek of surprise. You look at him incredulously, but he only smiles, standing between your legs with his hands on your thighs that the skirt you’re wearing does a bad job of covering.
“How about,” he mumbles, squeezing your thigh. “We make every neighbor of mine talk about how I made you come twice as fast?”
“What–” you start to say, but he shuts you up with a kiss, tongue slipping past your lips.
You lean into his touch, obediently opening your mouth. His fingers trail up your thigh until they slip under your skirt, knuckles running over your clothed pussy and making you jerk up in surprise. He smirks against your mouth, pushing your panties aside so he can rub your clit. You whimper at this, pulling away from the kiss.
Maybe it’s your expression – swollen lips and wide eyes – or maybe it’s the way you’re practically dripping onto his hand after saying the most obscene things about some stupid pogue, he’s not sure, but at that moment, it’s decided.
He’s about to fuck that attitude right out of you.
“Wait, Rafe–” you’re caught off guard as he kneels down, pulling your panties down your legs.
Instinctively, you look around to see if anyone could spot you from where you’re perched up on the counter, but all the windows are covered. Luckily for you, because the moment you feel Rafe’s tongue touch your cunt, all rational thoughts are thrown into the trash bin.
“Oh, fuck.”
He licks a long stripe up your folds and you shudder, gasping for air. He’s barely touching you, and you know it’s on purpose, his mouth gently kissing your wet cunt and clit. It’s enough to have your breath become uneven, but not enough to satisfy you, and so, your hands move to tug at his hair in hopes of urging him into action.
In response, he sucks your clit into his mouth so harshly your hips buck up to meet his face. He holds them down, moving down to lick up your arousal and plunge his tongue into your cunt. Your walls suck him in immediately, moans leaving your mouth loudly.
He seems to like all the noises you’re making because he brings his fingers to play with your clit while his tongue finds that one spot that makes your toes curl.
Your legs start closing around his head instinctively, but he isn’t having it. His arm muscles tighten as he presses your thighs up against your chest, keeping them there while he laps at your pussy.
“You like this, baby?” he asks against your soaking cunt, sending vibrations through your whole body and pushing your legs further against your tits. “Like being treated like the slut you are?”
You can only nod repeatedly, sobbing his name when he dives back in, his tongue hitting all the right places inside of you. It’s only a matter of seconds before that familiar feeling of rapture is stirring up in your stomach and you’re clenching around him again and again, so close to coming.
At least until his mouth and hands leave you completely, right as you’re on the edge of an orgasm.
Your head snaps up in surprise, tears pricking your eyes at the sudden loss of contact. Rafe’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head to the side with an amused smile playing on his lips together with your arousal smeared all over it.
“What were you saying earlier? Something about JJ…” he taps his fingers against your swollen clit and you whimper.
“I’m sorry,” you sob, bucking your hips up to show him just how eager you are. “I take it back, Rafey, please, please, please.”
He fakes hesitation for a moment — a moment that seems like it lasts years to you — but really, he’s way too far gone to be denying you anything. Something you probably could’ve figured out just by looking at his proud smirk if it weren’t for your dizziness.
“Alright, since you asked so nicely.”
Rafe’s tongue swirls around your clit and you’re already dangerously close to coming. It’s kind of embarrassing, really, the way you’re whimpering and squirming in your seat when he starts fucking you on his tongue, forcing your legs to stay flush against your tits so that he can reach all the places that drive you crazy.
“Oh my god, Rafe, I’m gonna–”
You swear you see stars as he pinches your clit softly, sending you over the edge with moans of his name leaving your lips.
He lets you buck into his face to ride out your high, hands squeezing at your thighs until you’ve calmed down your breathing.
Then he’s taking you into his arms, carrying you over to the couch so you can get comfortable. You fall back on the cushions, and Rafe’s face nuzzles in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your skin.
“Bet JJ couldn’t make a mess out of you this quickly,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Not that I’d let him try. Want you all to myself, baby.”
TAGLIST: @demiioxox @cherryobx @dandyfordaffodils @gillyboo16 @kknockursocksofff @subconsciouscollapse @stuffyownswrld @macchiodaily
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hi!!!!!! can i request the minecraft post u did for the dateables but for the brothers? i love ur writing sm it's so cute <3333
obey me brothers playing minecraft with you
thank you so much for the love <33 this was actually a lot of fun to write because all of these men are so very ridiculous. cheers to my first ever request!
[dateables version]
content warnings: language, bullying the villagers, killing the animals, you know how minecraft is
prompt: you've somehow convinced these guys to play minecraft, a human world game, one night, just the two of you. but how exactly does that experience go?
{established relationship, obey me x reader with the brothers}
Lucifer
oh. oh peepaw.
you really have to coax this man into playing with you. he's perfect at everything, all the time-- to engage in activity like this one, in front of you of all people, wounds his ego more than he'd like to admit. he doesn't want you to see him be bad at something. what if you no longer respect him? what if his inability to comprehend the little block people's actions are enough to ruin your love for him? he's genuinely distressed about this (not that he'd let it show), but you seem interested, so he reluctantly agrees.
two key things are necessary when playing minecraft with lucifer: patience and teamwork.
leaving him to do any task alone is daunting. the perfectionism paralyzes him a bit in these moments. take him with you! collect wood together, mine in the same mineshaft, hunt monsters together-- all of it starts to ease his mind when you work together. he starts to focus not on his pride but his love for you and spending quality time by your side.
as time progresses, he does eventually get a grip in the controls and mechanics-- well, as much as you can expect a dinosaur like him to understand. you still do a lot of tasks together in-game, but it's more of camaraderie thing by that point. he just likes being by your side, okay? don't make him say it, or you'll be hunting monsters by yourself bestie.
lucifer is also a really big fan of the soundtrack. it's so simple yet well-composed, a stark different to that garish video game music levi listens to. please play with the sound up and let him enjoy the sound of the rain intermingling with the music; his relaxed face is very cute.
Mammon
what's that? you wanna play minecraft with the great mammon? of course you do! he's gonna be the best player you've ever seen, just ya wait-- what's that? no, he's never touched the game before, but he knows he'll be fantastic. watch and learn, baybee, cuz the great mammon is here to show up and show out.
what he lacks in skill, he makes up several times over in enthusiasm. this is important, because he absolutely lacks skill.
mammon is a dangerous combination of unobservant and overenthusiastic, leading to every stupid situation you can think of. he thinks he sees an important resource, so he leaves for juuust a second... boom. he's lost. he somehow manages to attract lava in every. single. cave. at this point, you have to ban him from carrying anything important.
one thing he is good at is monster hunting. he's made it his mission from day 1 to protect you, whether it be real life or in a video game. he'll face a monster-- enderman, creeper, sneaky skeleton, you name it-- without an ounce of fear if it means you'll live another in-game day (some might call this excessive, but you just call it cute).
like everything with mammon, sometimes his instinct to protect you goes overboard. he tries to ban you from entering the mines and going outside at night because what if a monster gets you, human?? fortunately for you, he never figured out how to run in-game, so just sprint past him and carry on.
on a completely unrelated note-- this greedy motherfucker (said with SO much affection) hordes all the treasures in-game like a dragon. his goal is to build you two a mansion of diamond and gold. this is very cute if you once again ignore the fact that he keeps FALLLING IN LAVA with all his vauables. y'all are never getting anywhere in this game.
Leviathan
levi is, hands down, the best person to play minecraft with. you don't have to teach him a thing-- in fact, he's probably the one that brought it up to you!
he's very pleased that you'd indulge in one of his hobbies like this, regardless of whether you actually play video games or not. just the thought of you there, sitting next to him, hanging out with him because you want to be around a shut-in otaku like him... the thought gives him butterflies.
... y'all can't actually share a house by the way. he gets too flustered. make a joke about putting your minecraft beds together and he's blushing. it does not matter how long you've been together, his reaction will always be the same.
he's one of the only ones that you can progress through the game with. bashful levi is amazing in the mines. he's got a system down pat that'll help you guys find your way back to the entry point, where he's set up a base camp with chests and resources so you won't have to resurface until you're done. smart, right?
y'all actually go to the nether and the end. he's very quick to pick up the game's mechanics and use his luck to to help you guys progress. every victory is shared; what's the fun of winning if you're not winning together?
levi will play with you basically any time you ask. he loves when you refer to it as "our minecraft world". better yet, praise him for all his hard work in making your world and watch him melt. he's just a sucker for your love, and the fact that he's actually good at this activity makes him all the more happy to do it with you.
Satan
satan doesn't really know much about this game that you're describing, but he's willing to play it with you if you're really that interested. he's always ready to learn more about things from the human world; when you tell him this is one of the most popular games up on earth, he wants to try it at least once.
satan is not the best in general at video games, but he's quick-witted and resourceful, so the two of you get by just fine. the problem mostly lies in the fact that satan's audacity gets you into trouble sometimes. there is no little voice in his head telling him not to do something potentially dangerous and stupid, especially if there's some reward to gain on the other side. he is fully convinced he can take on an iron golem with a stone sword and no armor, just you watch--
be carefully with letting him run around freely. there's lots of ways to die in this game, and each failure pokes at the embers of wrath below his cool exterior.
this intelligent lil guy figures out redstone pretty damn quick. he'll use this knowledge to create lots of little creations meant to make your camp better. whether or not this actually helps is an entirely different story... but look! a gate! aren't you so proud of him? (please praise him, he needs it so bad)
and you wouldn't be playing with satan if all progress didn't come to a stop the moment he spots an ocelot. when you tell him you can befriend them, he's overjoyed. look at how cute they are! one ocelot turns into two, then three, then four... suddenly there's a small army of ocelots in your house that he's caring for. y'all better make room in your joint minecraft bed or satan will feel like a bad cat dad. he's so ridiculous and i love him
Asmodeus
this man plays minecraft with his priorities straight-- he spends way too long creating a cute character skin to play with, then builds a cute house and decorates it to the nines, then focuses on finding himself the cutest armor and weapons... all before doing literally anything productive, btw.
do not expect asmodeus to be much help. he's mostly there for moral support. he cannot do things "for survival" like gathering food and resources or building a starter home. everything must be perfect, or it doesn't get done. asmo did not craft himself a bed until he was able to dye the wool pink and have a cute pink bed. he cannot bring himself to live in an ugly house, so you either need to help him or listen to him whine about getting rained on or attacked by monsters until he's done.
this is not to imply that playing with asmo is not fun!!
asmo is not a monster hunter, a miner, or any good at gathering resources. however, his experience with makeup makes him insanely creative. while you might not have a house for several days, the end result even gives barbatos' house a run for its money. his decor is always very cute and clean, soft even in the blocky 2D world. he'll make your whole base camp aesthetically pleasing if you let him (please let him-- his smile is worth it).
asmo often finds himself a damsel in distress. he'll fall in holes and get very confused, scream when he gets attacked, and generally need you to protect him at every turn. succeed, though, and he'll hail you as one of the most amazing people he's ever met. the game will be discarded as he throws his arms around you, kissing you all over the face and showering you in praises, all for saving his house from a stray creeper.
oh, and he'll definitely put your beds next to each other and smirk at you. what did you expect from the avatar of lust? cornball
Beelzebub
sweet, beloved baby beel. he's ready and willing to play with you whenever. if you want to make some actual progress, prepare lots of snacks and set a cozy atmosphere to keep him full and content. playing with the avatar of gluttony does require a little prep in that regard.
this (metaphorical) angel really has a hard time killing any of the livestock. he apologizes aloud anytime he has to slay one and explains to the poor creature why he's killing them. sorry, little sheep guy, but you two need to make beds. the cows make him feel especially bad because they remind him of belphie.
he's really big on making sure you guys have a secure, safe home to hide away in. sometimes, things get really overwhelming in the game, so he wants you to have a space where you feel safe and protected enough to calm down. this bunker is definitely a bit ugly, but we can't win them all.
play with him long enough and all the food will start looking really tasty to him. that bread looks a little too real, doesn't it, mc? and that cake is so life-like... redirect him to his snack horde, stat.
he also wants to do all of your tasks together. when he's there with you, he can make sure you're safe or offer you help when your struggling to complete a task on your own. he want to make sure you're having fun! let him help you, please, it makes him feel loved. he likes spending time with you.
definitely doesn't get the "putting your minecraft beds together" joke. you can either explain the to him and watch him blush, or let him live with the assumption that it's for extra cuddle room.
Belphegor
you've got to coax belphie into playing with you for a few days, because honestly? that sounds like a lot of work. not only does he have to participate, but he's also got to learn, too? he's already yawning just talking about it all.
he'll eventually snuggle in with his back against your chest and your arms clumsily holding the controller in front of him. he doesn't particularly care that this position makes gaming difficult for you, not when you're cuddling him like this. it's really a win-win situation in his eyes: he'll play the little block game if you shower him in unconditional affection any time he wants. what a deal! his youngest child energy really shows in times like these.
belphie is heartless when it comes to raiding villages and collecting resources. what's that? you feel bad? they're not real, mc. they don't have feelings. they don't care that you're stealing from them. if it really makes you feel bad he'll stop, but he will complain about how much easier things could have been if you'd just robbed a village or two.
somehow, some way, he's also super lucky?? he'll stumble upon rare resources with little to no effort and snicker about how you're still scrambling for supplies. don't worry, he'll share. only if you beg, though. go on. he wants to hear it. maybe, maybe he'll be willing to give you the diamonds he found if you convince him. (what a fucking menace!)
he will, eventually, fall asleep while playing. the music is too soft and your arms around him are too warm for him to not drift off. that's okay. carefully take the controller away from him, save the game, shut down the system, and settle in for the night. he'll cuddle closer in his sleep, unconsciously touched by the gesture, and drag you into dreamland with him.
#ask response#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#obey me headcanons#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me levi#obey me leviathan#obey me levi x reader#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo x reader#obey me asmodeus x reader#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel x reader#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie x reader#obey me belphegor x reader#too many fuckin tags gaddamn
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Yoo could u do this? If u want to ofc🫡 kazutora x fem reader who's apart of walhalla (kind of like from the last thing u wrote) but she's more quiet and keeps to herself. But when she IS talking w the others she has like the older sister type attitude. Passive, speaks with sarcasm and can grill someone with a single sentence.
So the scenario I have in mind was they first met in like a 'kiyoko and Tanaka' type way from haikyuu? If u don't know it's on yt ^^. Sorry if the request is long😭 if u don't want to do this then it's fine!! And sorry since this is like, the second thing u wrote ab the reader being in Walhalla,
a/n: don't worry about it, I wouldn't consider it to be the same thing since I've made plenty of differences between the two. I went with what you requested but sorry if some things aren't how you pictured/ wanted half way through ♡
Kazutora hanemiya |°- first meet + hard to get
kazutora having the number 3 as a title means some sort of recognition and responsibility, but half the time he's just there yk. chilling by a wall and waiting for time to gradually get a move on, got things to do but can't exactly do them now, there's always some sort of waiting game but a game that always makes everyone yawn.
bored and tired out of his mind with only a few thoughts to keep his mind busy to avoid getting agitated. all moments before feeling a small gush of air from his left side like someone has rushed to get here. it was hard to ignore what you see at the corner of your eye so just out of instinct he turned his head slightly to eye in that very direction to see who had just came in.
his whole thought process staged, his mind instantly paused, eyes wide open, and his breath on hold. the gush of air that he felt before now holds some emotions, immediately thinking that the air is probably the closest he'll ever come contact with you physically.
'shes beautiful...'
the question of 'what is a girl doing in walhalla?' didn't even come across him, instead it was how beautiful you are. he was captivated and wanted to say something, anything to you but when he opened his mouth to speak it was then that you looked over at him feeling his eyes on you which caused his sole to evaporate leaving him standing like a deer at headlights.
"I- uh..." kazutora hanemiya, all shy and nervous. it certainly was a sight to see considering that a few guys part of the gang were hiding their smiles and muffling their laughter seeing him in this state. if kazutora saw them laughing they'd definitely lose a few front teeth, that way they'll never end up smiling.
he was mainly nervous because no one has ever made his heart beat faster than an adrenaline rush, so this whole feeling was new and unusual.
though just after you moved your eyes away from him he swallowed down his salvia and finally spoke up making your attention back onto him "you're pretty" he thought a lot but at the same time he didn't.
a faint smile curled up on your lips after hearing his words "thank you" any compliment is nice to have but was this him making moves on you? a random guy to stare at you and call you pretty is honestly quite flattering but there's no need to be seen easy especially being around with so many other guys, don't need them thinking they can do the same.
over time after that small encounter, kazutora managed to learn a few things about you from other people, not a whole lot but enough for him to understand why you're here. your cousin is somewhere within walhalla and it wasn't hard to spot him due to kazu admiring you from afar and seeing who you talk to. not in a stalker way but just out of curiosity.
however before, you'd repeatedly and casually hang around the hideout with your cousin, most of the time outside of the building but after sometime someone ended up welcoming you in, Hanma actually, your interaction with him wasn't exactly sturdy in the beginning but because of that it made him want you to join even more. when your around you seem get people's attention in a sense of making them feel calm, precisely like an older sister. one that most probably wished to have but dont.
your quite closed off despite having a fair bit of attention, but that doesn't mean you take advantage of that nor do you actually stay quiet. if someone were to come up to you and strike a conversation you'll happily respond. passive with almost anyone which makes you to be fairly approachable and comfortable to be around with. making sarcastic comments here and there without thinking which then results in some people to return the attitude, but in the end it creates something to find joy in. it's like you can make friends instantly here without trying.
but despite that you still manage to hold up a small barrier. if anyone even remotely annoys you or tries to get a bad reaction out of you they'll get the reaction, but it'll be them that will shuffle over to hide by a corner and have a bleeding wound from the words you're able to inflict on them, your a natural at it and you don't even need to raise your voice to get your point across. some guy was being sexist towards you and that was the last time he ever dared to look at you. which is exactly what everyone around likes about you. kazutora especially.
when you're quiet kazu admires, when you speak he listens. he loves your mental strength and it's certainly something that everyone needs to be taught.
but an older sister always hides her true intentions, just gotta look out for a pattern and soon enough you'll be able to hold her heart like no one else can just because you were able to understand her. sometimes being the oldest always means to end up in some sort of battle, majority of the time it's emotional but keeping too much inside can cause the jar to explode making the shards to hit those who you don't mean to hurt.
sure she's not actually a sister of anyone in Walhalla, but in order for her to feel welcomed they ended up acting like she was one. some even ended up calling her 'big sis'. and so she adopted that sweet role. though only to those who are constantly at the hideout and participate in conversation, essentially only to those that like her.
the first few days after noticing your presence in walhalla he always went stiff in the shoulders, afraid to do something stupid that will make you hide away from him. even when getting caught staring at you he always tried to play it off by looking behind you or simply look away and pretend nothing happened.
but after another few set of days, he grew comfortable. maybe a little too comfortable because now whenever you catch him staring he just holds a smile and keeps looking at you with no shame until he chooses to look away and pretend to carry on with whatever he was doing before, even though he wasn't doing anything before.
he'd join some of your conversations and even tried to get a little close to your cousin, though the two dont exactly kick off very well so he gave that up almost instantly, he didn't want to argue with him and lose his chance with you. normally he wouldn't do that for anyone so It was even a bit of a shocker for kazu himself when half way through he realised 'wait tf am I doing?' and it certainly didn't go under looked by certain other members.
do you know about his interest in you? probably, maybe... definitely. if others can see it then you do too, you're not dumb like that plus others pointed it out for you under hushed voices. just one chance wouldn't hurt, but only if he actually comes forwards to it first. you attract, not chace.
"surprised that you managed to get so many warm up to you so quickly"
you jumped a little upon hearing a voice right over your shoulder but without turning around you instantly recognised who that voice belongs to. kazutora.
"that's a good thing right?" now meeting his eyes but also taking a step backwards, he sure knows how to invade personal space.
"of course it is, though you've made my guys sappy, I'm afraid they'll go weak" he wasn't fully serious... maybe just a little but he held a teasing tone and his whole self seemed completely different compared to when you both first interacted. from being stunned and staggering to now going with the flow and flourishing. he wasn't always gonna stay shy.
"oh is that so? well I'm sure you'll be able to carry everyone out since I presume you haven't" the same little smile from when they met began to curl her lips. there's no way that anyone can say that kazu hasn't become somewhat soft when it comes down to y/n, and here he is trying be different compared to other guys.
"didn't know you had that much confidence in me" matching your energy. he's aware of what you're hinting at but currently talking with you, one on one, is making him not give a damn. you've talked before but they were always around others. all he wants in this moment is you and if it means to be called sappy then sure.
"nah not really, just expectations" ouch
it was all build up so that kazutora can get comfortable and ask the one question that he had stored in his mind.
"so I was thinking, what if we were to go out? just us two"
"what if?" she repeated, purposely focusing on those two words to catch and test him out, make him say it properly.
"well you know what I mean"
"I'm afraid I don't"
she's getting to him, you could tell from the way he looked off to the side and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, can't tell if he's annoyed or if the nervousness is finally catching up to him, confidence always has a limit especially when you're up against someone with a smart mouth. "do you want to hang out?... just us two" there it is.
"hmm, depends what we'd do"
"we can do anything that you like"
it sure wasn't gonna be easy for him, heck no. have a little play around and if he really did want to take you out then he was gonna have to try harder than that and earn it. you have standards and don't go for the first person.
the first time you rejected his offer he thought you were kidding and trying to joke around but when you repeated your answer only then did he walk away from you. but after a few days of exchanging eye contact with each other he seemed to finally be caught on with what you were doing. playing hard to get, a bit infuriating but considering the way how kazu had asked and how most seem be fond of you there would be no reason not to play like that.
the second time he casually put an arm over your shoulders and acted it out like you two were good friends, and this time when he asked he did it right the first time, but even then you still declined.
you're making it hard for him, got him stressing, and turning. someone give this boy some help because currently it seems unhealthy for him to feel like this. just something about you got him latched on and it's only self respect thats keeping him away from begging.
though it doesn't mean that some progress hasn't been made between you two throughout the time. cause then he wouldn't have asked the third time.
third time's the charm right? it's what everyone says and half the time it's not all that true, but for some it is. so when kazutora finally asked you out again and heard your accepting words it was like a lock finally opening after finding the right key. satisfaction and pride.
♡----
#tokyo revengers#kazutora hanemiya#kazutora#kazutora x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers kazutora#tokyo rev x reader#kazutora fluff#tokyo revengers fluff#may have rushed it a lil near the end
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loscar sexting
trans oscar, fwb, mild feminization, 1284 words
(very open to continuing this if people want!)
***
“I hate this.”
“What?” Logan asks, sounding just as smiley as ever, though there’s no way for Oscar to know for sure over the phone.
Oscar flops onto his back and sighs up at the ceiling of his corporate flat. “Not having a girlfriend.”
“I thought you liked being single.”
“I do,” Oscar replies. He’s already regretting bringing this up, knows Logan will poke and prod until his curiosity is satisfied. “But….”
“But what?” Logan asks, right on cue.
“I dunno. I guess it was just nice knowing I could get laid whenever I wanted.” He mumbles through the last bit, a flush coming to his cheeks. He hides his face in the pillow instinctively, even though Logan isn’t there to see it.
“So you don’t need a girlfriend. You need a fuckbuddy.”
Logan’s voice is muffled now, and Oscar has to roll back over to reply.
“Kind of difficult to do something like that now that we’re like, on TV and shit,” Oscar points out. “I don’t want some random girl—or bloke—posting my nudes online.”
He’d had fevered nightmares about that exact scenario on occasion, though he knows it isn’t the sort of thing his ex would do. At the same time, there was a part of him that found the idea kind of exciting, his body becoming jerkoff material for strangers, being desired because of his body rather than despite it.
Logan just laughs. “What’s wrong with hooking up with someone you already know?”
“Like who?” Oscar wracks his brain trying to think of who is even available at the moment. The Venn diagram between his single friends and the ones he thinks would actually want to fuck him is narrower than he would like.
“Like me,” Logan says, and all the breath whooshes out of Oscar’s lungs like he’s been punched in the gut.
It takes him a few seconds to compose himself. “What?” Oscar says, voice shooting up an octave higher than normal.
“What?” Logan parrots back. “I’m single, you’re single. We both have busy schedules. We can just…sext each other or something when we’re horny. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s horny now, that this conversation has already gotten him wet and wanting, that he’s weighing the feasibility of getting a hand between his thighs and inside himself without alerting Logan to what he’s doing. But maybe Logan wants to know. Why else would he suggest something like that?
“Okay,” Oscar says at last.
“Cool,” Logan replies, sounding perfectly nonchalant about it, as though they’re just making plans to hit up a pub or something the next time he’s in England. “Anyway, I like, totally need to make dinner still and get some sleep, but I’ll text you, okay?”
“Okay,” Oscar says again, the words ‘I’ll text you’ rattling around in his brain like a bag of marbles. Does he mean texting like, texting? Or something more?
Oscar doesn’t get his answer until the following morning, while he’s in the gym with his trainer. His phone buzzes against his thigh; he ignores it until he’s finished with his reps and then pulls it out of his gym shorts under the baleful glare of his trainer, who would definitely ban Oscar from having his phone on him at all during their workouts if he could.
Oscar sees Logan’s name and nearly drops his phone. “I, um, need to get this,” he says before sprinting out of the gym and into the hallway, where he makes a sharp right and beelines straight into the nearest toilet.
It’s a gender-neutral toilet with a lock on the door. Oscar ducks inside and plants himself firmly on the seat before pulling his phone back out to read Logan’s text. He’s going to feel like a chump if it ends up being something stupid, like a screenshot of Logan’s K/D ratio in Call of Duty or something.
It’s not.
i really need to cum
hey u busy?
Oscar’s hands are shaking as he types out his reply.
no i’m not busy
He waits a minute or two, not sure what he’s supposed to do next. Finally, Logan replies.
can u send me something
A few seconds later, a picture comes through. It’s nothing particularly artistic, just a slightly out-of-focus photo of Logan’s hand framing the very obvious tent in his gym shorts. Oscar is doubly appreciative of the fact that they’re white, affording him a better view than if Logan had gone with a darker color. He wonders if Logan had picked them on purpose.
im already hard
Oscar gawps at the photo for a minute, basking in the warmth seeping down from his head to his toes, a pleasant throb making itself known between his thighs the longer he looks. Then he finally remembers that he needs to send something back.
And Oscar doesn’t really know what to send. He’s never sexted before, not even with his ex-girlfriend. She’d been content to follow him around everywhere during the F2 series, so they’d had sex whenever one of them was in the mood for it, and that was about it. Before her, Oscar had been a virgin, too afraid of being vulnerable to sleep around with anyone like all the other boys on the grid.
Oscar pulls his shorts down and stares at the wiry hair covering his crotch. He doesn’t think Logan would say anything bad about it, but it doesn’t feel like there’s much fanfare in sending someone a picture of just your pubes. He takes off his shirt instead, conscious of the softness of his pecs, his wide pink nipples, the gentle swell of his tummy where he should be flat, like Logan. Oscar doesn’t know if Logan will think he’s sexy; he doesn’t even know if he finds himself sexy, but he angles the phone camera down towards himself as he shoves a free hand past the waistband of his shorts and snaps a pic just as he strokes a finger down the hard ridge of his clit.
Oscar is too afraid to look at the photo before he sends it. He immediately goes back to the home screen as soon as the text goes through, and then he shoves his phone down between his thighs and closes his eyes.
It’s at least a minute before Oscar feels it vibrate again, the sensation coursing through him thanks to his phone’s proximity to his cunt—though he hadn’t intended for that in the moment. His breathing comes out in short bursts as he opens the newest message from Logan.
It’s a voice note.
Oscar takes one look at the door separating him from a gym full of professional athletes and makes a split-second decision. He turns the volume down on his phone almost all the way and hits play before quickly jamming the phone against his ear to hear whatever Logan had sent.
A hot thrill sizzles down his spine at the harsh breathing crackling over his phone’s speaker. There’s a hushed ‘fuck’ exhaled through a heavy sigh, then the unmistakable sound of Logan’s hand, slick with something, sliding over his cock, rough and fast.
“Fuck, your tits,” Logan groans into Oscar’s ear, and Oscar nearly drops the phone on the floor. “God, I wish I could come all over you. Fuck.”
It only takes two fingers roughly shoved inside himself under his shorts before Oscar is coming with a choking sob, and it’s only afterwards, as he slumps back against the wall and shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm that he realizes he probably should have recorded a voice note for Logan, too.
#f1 smut#f1 rpf#loscar#my fic#this concept gave me brainworms all of a sudden so i needed to write it
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