#also uhm sorry again for the no post..

[superbestfriedns]

I SAW SOEMOEN USING MY ART AS AN ENTIRE LAYHOUT FOR THEIR TWITTER I/POS

[noliaert]

Finally got around to finish this one! Here's my ode to iwtv season 1! <3 I made both a version of bailey's claudia as well as delainey's 👍👍

Close ups 👇

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Little drabble for today, since technically today(or perhaps yesterday?) Was the day I had my little...moment of. Wow it would be so funny if I got engaged with Finn and of course it happens to be cliche a few days before Valentine's Day. Anniversary. I know I don't really post my writing a lot and keep it more private but that's mostly just cause it's harder for me to write things that aren't very emotionally incorporated, if that makes any sense? With drawing I can do a little cute doodle, draw some hearts around it, and that's it, a nice simple little thingy. But with my writing it is normally a lot more extensive, even if whatever I'm writing is just fluffy stuff. And. Not to mention. A lot of people normally brush over drawings after like five reasonable seconds, but with writing it isn't entirely something that can be consumed so quickly. But! I yap a lot on here anyway.

I don't thinkkkkkk this needs any content warnings? I tried to not go into detail about the actual extent of the woes I experienced and just said enough to get it out of my system, but everything else is true and accurate😉 it gets super sappy fluffy at the end because it is me we are talking about here, so of course it does. I did a shorter Speedrun version of my proofreading, so hopefully it has a nice flow to it!

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"Yes, but I want to actually do SOMETHING for today, I mean, something nice at least. It is a special day, we should do something.. special for it!" Kane reasoned, still in bed and curled up to a pillow. He cautiously rolled over onto his back, and his expression twitched like he had winced. He kept the pillow in his arms and loosely hugged it against himself.

"Kane, I'm pretty sure I just watched you die, I'm not going to let you expend what little energy you have left that needs to go to resting." Finn sighed, upset, sitting carefully at the edge of the bed. He certainly wasn't upset at Kane, more so the situation; and perhaps what little he could do- or have done- to remedy it, to no fault of his own, of course. Or anyone's, really.

Considering that Kane wasn't always that keen on bigger events anyway, his prying for one was a bit ironic. But just because he didn't like going out to restaurants or typical romantic events that involved eating out in public or resulted in lots of noises going on like at restaurants, it didn't mean that Finn didn't like those things. And, perhaps, Kane felt a little guilty inside, because he had been out of commission for most of the day, so anything that they could've done couldn't happen.

"It's not like I didn't know this might happen." Finn said gently, turning a little so he could look at Kane when he said it.

Kane sighed a little, almost in a pouting manner, and glanced at Finn to meet his gaze for a moment, "I mean, I know that we both knew it was going to happen, cause the prediction and all- and I could feel it- but..."

"But I'm feeling better now and-"

"Rest." Finn interrupted firmly.

Kane groaned in response, why must he need rest and recovery. Why must he be aware of how truthfully exhausted and sore he felt. "Okay, well I wasn't dying, I was just-"

"You were withering in pain, and trying to tug out your own hair so you could feel something else, you-"

"Okay, okay, but worse case scenario you could've just- I mean we live in England, all the houses and buildings are brick- you could've just bonked me out on the head and then drivin me off to the ER or like, urgent care or something."

Ah, and Kane was met with the look of a man who sometimes forgot what country people grow up to be. A look laced with concern because it was his partner he was looking at, but there was still a slight hint of "Fuck? No!" Whether Kane's country roots lying in America added to this was a different story.

"Er- euhm- Whatever the uh. Thing is called the-..." Kane looks around the room as he racks his brain for it, "The NHS! Yes! Whatever those.. they have like those walk-in urgent rooms, right? Like buildings?"

Finn looked like he wanted to respond with several things like "The NHS wait time isn't worth it" and "The day I put you out of your misery like some animal even if it is to temporarily knock you unconscious is the day I [redacted]" but with as ruffled and exhausted as Kane still appeared, he wasn't going to have the man waste his breath on discussing the complexities of the NHS and every other healthcare system, or whatever else was going through his mind. Instead, he ever so gently nudged Kane over closer to the middle of the bed so he could lay down next to him. He understood that going from forever sleeping on a bed that was hardly bigger than him to the luxuries of a bed that was probably a bit bigger than your dining table was something for Kane to adjust to, but it still drove him mad that Kane, for some reason, slept right at the edge of the bed. Even if he has yet to actually fall off of it.

And Kane couldn't help but crack out a grin over it, he spent a lot of time in bed so there was hardly a moment where Finn wasn't wordlessly gently shuffling him closer to the center of the bed.

"But we aught to do at least something, right? Today isn't just any other day today- not to me at least- I want to at least mark it like that by doing something special. Even if it is something small."

As Finn stretched out and laid down net to Kane, he let out a long exhale, "And you call me foolish?" Finn mused, and with as much little movement as possible he rolled over so he could face Kane and gingerly wrap an arm around the other man, tucking it under the pillow that Kane was still holding closely to himself. He was sure Kane was still feeling sore, so he treated every movement and touch he did like he was trying to do a waltz in a minefield.

Kane cocked an eyebrow, "I do call you foolish. Not that I'm any less foolish- if not more." "You certainly are," Finn's voice turned to a mumble as he tried to nuzzle himself infinitely and impossibly closer to Kane.

"And would you like to elaborate on that?" Kane asked, with a faint grin. He was feeling far more amused that he was able to express himself at the moment.

"The whole point of the day is just to spend it however we'd like, and I don't care how we spend it, I just want to spend it with you."

This was one of the moments were Kane was glad that Finn had his face buried up against him, because even if Finn could feel Kane hold his breath, it at least still spared Kane a little dignity because Finn would miss seeing his eyebrows furrow and the corners of his mouth twist and maybe his eyes watered up just a little as well. "Yeah, but you spent the day like a medieval doctor watching a patient and not being able to do anything about it but sedate them."

Finn frowned a little, but he would've frowned regardless of what day it happened on because it was still something that happened in the first place.

Kane let go of the pillow with one of his arms, and then decided to forfeit the pillow entirely altogether and shift his position so he was laying more towards Finn now. He didn't really have much left to say.

"I just want to enjoy the day with you, Kane." Finn murmured, the weight of affection in his voice was undoubtable.

Kane was quiet for a moment, his eyebrows were still furrowed, "I just want you to know that you are special," he responded, and if his sentence had been any longer his voice might've croaked.

Finn smiled, and tried to be as gentle as he could as he softly tugged Kane ever so slightly more closer to him, "I know that you think I'm special." Again, Kane took a moment before he responded. His mind was having trouble arguing with someone who seemed to radiate their love out of their body.

"You do?" Kane asked. Of course he would want Finn to feel special.

"This is where I get to use one of your own sayings against you," Finn said, starting to grin, "You always say that actions speak louder than words, don't you?"

As much as Kane loved that saying and thought it to be true, it bugged him a little that it sounded like something you would find spelled out as the lesson in the back of a book or TV show for children. Which perhaps was exactly where he had gotten it from.

"I do say that. And at least in my experience I've found it to be relatively true, give or take some case scenario exceptions; as with anything there's exceptions."

"Well I think it is plenty special that I get to do this with you," Finn gave Kane the lightest squeeze possible in his arms, "And you tell me in plenty of different ways all of the time how you feel about me." Kane knew that he did that, but part of him almost wanted to respond with "I do?" because it wasn't the usual for someone to be able to understand the funny language that he seemed to speak.

Kane looked at the ceiling for a little while, soaking in the words and the moment. Finn seemed quite content and peaceful with things right now- which is what Kane wanted. Truthfully, in an ideal scenario Kane would've spent the day treating Finn like he was some royalty- not that he didn't have tomorrow to do that, anyway.

"I like you, Finn," Kane said.

"I like you too, Kane." Just for a few moments Finn had closed his eyes. Then again, no one ever goes to close their eyes for just a few moments and it turns out that way.

No, maybe today wasn't and couldn't be spent as a day for a big grand gesture and display of love and affection, perhaps that was something that was going to be saved for another time, but there was still just as much love to be felt in getting consumed by the peaceful tranquility that came with not having anything but a nice warm and safe home, and being willingly boxed up in a room with someone literally, and figuratively, wrapped up around you.

[hexedrosel-arts]

Too many thoughts head full, time to ramble and say things

- Hall monitor being older brother to the kindergarten kids(Thought about him getting second job to save for college; and also to get the kids ice-cream if they behave; he mostly saves it though)

- Carla and Buggs friendship

- Ozzy and Buggs friendship

- Buggs dynamics with other ppl in general

- Penny X Carla X Monty (wanna write but have more important stuff than this rn :,])

- Kidd, just a lot of ideas about Kidd

- Ozzy, he plagues me daily

- Ozzy and Felix, but what if enemies to friends to lovers mutual pining and angst

- My OCs; specially the one who has her arms replaces with ribbons and she has a tank of poison inserted into her spine, she also now has a gun that shoots said poison and she refuses to die.(Also the angry spirit that follows her around and has knives in that surround him in the form of angel wings and halo)

- Kidd with ram horns(Kidd w/ sacrificial lamb imagery is something weirdly on my mind)

And surprising the one time my English teacher saw an image of Buggs I drew and called him a she(now thinking of butch fem Buggs)

Big thought below where I can't explain it in bullet point form

Honestly, I can't really bring myself to hate any of the Kg and Kg2 characters that aren't the adults. It sounds stupid but I just can't.

The reason is rather simple, they're five year olds. They don’t truly understand what they're doing, like at all. They may be the smartest 5 year olds ever, but they're still 5.

They can kill, harm, and just be the worst ppl ever. But they're glorified toddlers who barely understand that they're hurting each other. A sibling of mine visited our grandfather when he was dying and that stuff slipped over their head, and they were 4. Heck the stuff didn't make sense to myself and I was 7ish.

Felix may want his brother dead, but he might not understand that when his brother dies, he's not coming back. His father knows why he wants this to happen, but Felix may not know in the slightest, or at least not to the extent of that his father does. It's not an exact excuse for Felix’s actions, but I can understand why he has no empathy or care about what he is doing.

I'm using Felix as an example because I did hate Felix before. I hated that he wanted to kill his brother, that he was cruel, he was well Felix. I talked with my sibling about the game(it's been an obsession for a while), when my mom overheard me talking about Felix. She pointed out the exact reason why Felix is innocent in his crime to a degree, he's 5. He doesn't grasp murder or death or what an assassin is. He's smart for a 5 year old, but he still understands the world in the way a child does.

This doesn't just apply to Felix. But to all the kids and all of their little crimes. They don’t understand what they're doing, at least not on the level we do. Cindy and Buggs might understand that bullying is bad, but they don't know how badly they're affecting Lily and Nugget. Jerome doesn't understand that Lily didn't kill his father, he's only correlating that Lily hated his father, Billy went missing, and Billy was found when his father died.

More about Jerome. He's a smart kid yes, but I can't blame him for acting the way he does in Kg2, he's emotional because he found his father's body parts, and Lily found her brother around the same time. He wants revenge because he didn't know what we do. He just wants closure for what he believes was the death of a good man, his father even. Kg2 also takes place the day *after* his father's death, so we take an a child who is still *grieving*, who found his dad's dead body, and has moved to a different school, that's too much for a child to handle. Of course the child is emotional.

Jerome understands death more than the other kids because he experienced in the games first hand. We see the result, he knows his dad isn't coming back, he's upset, and he's not thinking straight. He's in smart class for a reason, but clearly he should have time to process his father's passing. In things that go boom(? Carla's misson), he acts irrationally upon seeing Lily because that's how a 5 year old would react, he found his father's supposed murderer and wants revenge.

When he finds the truth you know what happens? He cries harder, he apologizes to Lily and Kidd in that misson as well. He accepts that father was bad, which is a lot more than mature than he should be at that age, and moves on. He perfectly shows how these kids, while much smarter than regular 5 year olds, they still act like kids and behave.

(Note: I found it weird that a lot of the older wattpad fics charactized Jerome as always hating Lily even when they got older. But I can't blame them, we see Jerome as clearly being in the wrong, but we don't think to look at this in Jerome's perceptive)

In the end they're kids, glorified toddlers even. Death doesn't phase them because they don't understand it. They know things at a basic level, yes they are uber smart for 5 year olds, but they are still 5 year olds. I can't be mad at these kids for being- well kids. Yes they're mean and cruel to each other, but they're still kids. They don't understand that killing each other means they won't come back, to them maybe death means they won't see that person for a while.

[preciouslittlecreature]

Not sure when Ill finish this (my mental health has been on and off lately) but here's a W.I.P Nikolai Ive been poking at! Ive loved Nik for a good long while now and seeing him get more attention has made more happy so I figured Id finally throw my hat in the ring too. Especially wanna thank @sofasoap and @nrdmssgs for sharing all their wonderful work and being such great people!!

[quirkle2]

i am literally so hungry and yet i am like paralyzed in my seat. why can't i get up and go get food. why am i just sitting here while my stomach wallows in agony. i feel ill. jay be normal

[scatterpatter]

After all these months i think i finally figured out how to draw myself- months of "gOD WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE ON THE INSIDE" AND I FINALLY GOT SOMETHING THAT FEELS LIKE ME LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

-One Of The Patters(tm)

[carp-esh-ove-lem]

i am once again not immune to conventionally attractive white people. unwokest thing abt me

[uriwonu]

pretty, pity, pity (jww)

He loudly clears his throat. “So… you’re like a camgirl?”

You wince. “I prefer streamer with benefits, but yeah.”

the one where reader is a camgirl and asks her roommate to fuck her on stream.

౨ৎ roommate!wonwoo x cam girl! mc ౨ৎ w.c: 4.9k ౨ৎ genre: pwp. minors do not interact. ౨ৎ warnings: explicit content🔞, wonwoo's a little too good at playing pretend, also he's a little mean in this (during sex), sex on livestream, use of sir (like three times), mingyu is reader's friend, uhh i think that's it? please tell me if there's anything i missed im not good at this. ౨ৎ date posted: june 07, 2025 ౨ৎ notes: title from the song novacane by frank ocean! this is also my first fic on tumblr so please be nice to me i will cry okay. i haven't written fic in ages 😭 please come to my blog and hang out i want to make friends !! masterlist | inbox

“Hey, Wonwoo-yah,” you softly call, knuckles taping gently against his half-open door.

Wonwoo looks up from his desk, pausing his game and slipping his headphones down to hang around his neck. His brows lift in that quiet way he always greets you — surprised but gentle, like he’s glad you’re there. The light from the hallway outlines your silhouette, casting a soft glow behind you.

You step in slowly, hands twisted nervously in the sleeves of your oversized sweater. It's one of his, though you’ll never admit that out loud. Your fingers fidget in the fabric as you search for the right words.

Wonwoo tilts his head, “What’s up?” he asks gently prodding you to speak whatever is making you nervous.

You open your mouth, close it again, then finally manage, “I… have kind of a weird favor to ask.” You finally admit as you plop yourself down on his bed, grabbing one of his pillows to wrap your arms around it, a makeshift shield.

He leans back in his chair. “Yes.”

You blink, face contorting in astonishment. “You don’t even know what it is.”

He smiles, soft and sincere. “Doesn’t matter. I’d do anything for you.”

That makes your stomach flip, and you have to look away for a second. “That’s… really sweet. But you might want to hear it first. I need you to…” You suck in a breath and rush it all out: “Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Sorry?” he says, blinking like he didn’t hear you right.

You force yourself to slow down, squeezing his pillow for comfort — and not that you'd ever admit it, take a massive whiff of his cologne, something that always seems to calm you. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Wonwoo stares for a second, face blank in that quietly-processing-everything way of his. You can tell he’s trying to decide whether this is a prank, a cry for help, or some unspoken code he’s supposed to understand.

You let out a frustrated sigh and flop down on his bed, clutching his pillow tighter. “Okay. Context. Remember how I told you the pay from the studio isn’t amazing? Like, I love it, but it’s not really paying all my bills?”

Wonwoo nods, clearly still confused.

“Well, the pay is actually, really bad, like I don't make enough to cover my portion of the rent—”

Wonwoo cuts you off, “If you need me to pay more I can, it's really no problem, I just got a huge bonus for the—”

“No!” This time you interrupt, “I've got it covered, that's the point. I was complaining to a friend, and well she told me about this website…” Your words trail off giving Wonwoo a look like he's meant to use that big brain of his and fill in the blanks.

“You have a sugar daddy?” He guesses. God, for someone so smart he is also completely clueless.

“I'm a sex worker.” You admit, staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

There’s a very long silence. You wait for the judgment. The discomfort. Anything.

Wonwoo looks like he's trying to remember how to breathe,

“Uhm,” His voice is startlingly high when he speaks, in a way you've never heard, he clears his throat, “So someone you uhm…” you can see the tips of his ears going red, “had business with is being a creep so you need me to scare them off.”

You can't help the burst of laughter that bubbles out—Wonwoo? Intimidate anyone?

“No, no.” You shake you head, laughter still on your lips, “Look, I, I don't fuck any one. I'm a streamer, people pay to watch me, fuck myself, that is.”

You can feel the heat flushing to your face but at least Wonwoo isn't in better shape, the red has creeped its ways from the tips of his ears down his neck and touches his cheeks.

He loudly clears his throat. “So… you’re like a camgirl?”

You wince. “I prefer streamer with benefits, but yeah.”

“And… the fake boyfriend?”

You sigh, “I like started this false narrative around this boyfriend I had, so people wouldn't get too lost in the fantasy, because my friend shared all types of horror stories about doing this. And I guess I kind of just get myself off and tell them stories about this imaginary boyfriend I don't have and well on my last stream for reaching a fuckton of subscribers I said I'd do a request to the highest donation and well… they want my nonexistent boyfriend to fuck me. And I just, I can't ask anyone else because I can't even imagine how they would take it, like can you imagine if I asked Jihoon? That would be so embarassing. God, or Mingyu? He'd say yes but I don't think he's capable of having sex without catching feeli—

“I’ll do it.”

You slow down from your spiral, startled. “Really?”

Wonwoo nods, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Of course.”

౨ৎ

A few days later, you're at the kitchen table, half-draped over it in shame, while Mingyu sits across from you absolutely losing his mind.

“You—” he chokes out between wheezes, “you asked Wonwoo to fuck you. On camera. In front of an audience. I—god, I’m gonna pass out. This is the greatest day of my life.”

You groan into your arms. “Stop saying it like that.”

“Like what? Like the truth? Like the guy you’ve been crushing on since forever is going to dick you down live in front of thousands of horny strangers?”

“It’s not like that—”

“It is exactly like that,” he howls. “You asked your crush to clap you like a goddamn cymbal monkey for money. What is this, fanfiction?”

You glare at him, snatching the spoon from your tea and brandishing it like a knife. “I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I will FaceTime Yuna right now and tell her exactly why you broke up with her.”

Mingyu pales instantly, hands in the air. “Okay. Truce. Fuck, Noona. Harsh.”

You slump back into your seat, pressing your fingers to your temples. “This sucks.”

“Correction,” he says smugly, “this is your origin story. You’ve been in love with him since he "fixed" your wifi, and now you're gonna get railed on stream by him. It's the slowest burn friends-to-lovers-to-livestream-fuck arc I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not romantic,” you mutter, glaring into your cup like it might drown you.

“Really?” Mingyu raises a brow. “So you’re telling me you're going to let the guy you’ve been mentally undressing since 2022 fill you up on camera, and then what — fist bump and call it a night?”

You don’t answer.

He grins. “That’s what I thought.”

“…Shut the fuck up, Mingyu.”

౨ৎ

Friday.

Wonwoo walks into your room just as you're adjusting the camera angle and checking the lighting. He's wearing a simple black shirt, chain at his neck, hair slightly mussed like he just rolled out of bed looking unfairly perfect.

You swallow.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, then nods toward the bed. “You ready?”

Your heart is pounding. “Only if you are.”

He steps closer, eyes flicking over your outfit—an oversized sweater, one of his, and shorts so short you can barely see them—his Adam’s apple bobs slightly as he swallows.

“You look nice,” he says.

You force a laugh. “Thanks. You do too.”

That gets a real smile out of him, and your stomach flips.

You go live, and watch as the first messages roll in.

Your usuals, the ones who know you don't like to go right into.

You let yourself forget that Wonwoo's there as you fall into another version of yourself—slipping into the role like a second skin. Your eyes flicker across the screen reading the message until you find one worth responding to

tigersgaze: god i needed this, work deadlines are killing me. hope your week was better than mine.

“Aww, I'm sorry, tiger. I hope stream will help you relax.” You say leaning back, with the practiced ease of someone who's been doing this for ages.

angelface666: is this finally the stream where we meet the elusive boyfriend? mommyplease: show us your perfect tits please mommy? cumslut44: i like your sweater baby singledad95: please show me your cunt, i miss it so bad.

“Hmm, my boyfriend is here. Maybe if you're good I'll let you meet him.” There's an unspoken request in your words, and the viewers seem to get it clearly. The donations start flowing in.

You spentd a few more quiet moments just talking with your viewers, letting more people come in.

You glance to your left. He’s just out of frame, waiting. Calm. Cool. You reach out and tug him into view.

You know exactly the vision he looks on screen—his hair falls in his face, just brushing against the frames of his glasses, the sharp jawline. He sits beside you on the bed, one hand possessively on your thigh.

You watch as the chats roll in.

angelface666: oh. he's pretty. justherefory/n: god i know his dick is big. tigersgaze: i bet you look so pretty on him.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “You're right tiger, I do look pretty on him.”You slide closer to him, deliberately swinging a leg over his lap, your hips settling just against his. “They’ve been very curious about you,” you say it like it's a confession between lovers and not like it's your best friend simply playing a role.

Wonwoo’s fingers flex on your thigh. “I don't share well.” And you know he's playing his part but the truth in the statement makes you giggle, Wonwoo's never been good at sharing.

You shift your hips slightly in his lap, just enough friction to draw a sharp inhale from him.

You lean in, brushing lips against Wonwoo’s ear again.

“Ready to give them a show, baby?”

His reply?

A hand around your throat and a dangerous smile.

Wonwoo leans in. You tilt your head. And then his lips meet yours. It’s not for show. It’s not practiced.

It’s soft. Deep. Slow. Like he’s wanted to do this for a long time. You’re too breathless to keep pretending.

Your thighs clench involuntarily.

Wonwoo pulls back just far enough to brush his nose against yours. “Color?”

You blink, dazed. “Green,” you breathe.

He hums in approval, a low sound that rumbles in his chest and vibrates through you. His hand slips lower, fingers tracing the hem of your shorts, and your pulse spikes.

You look back at the chat to distract yourself.

facefucker29: hurry up and fuck already dirtywhitetee: i knew you'd look pretty with a hand around your throat y/nsdirtylittleslut: i want him to make a mess of you mommyplease: that should be me mommy i'd treat your so well

You gasp a little when his hand sneaks beneath the fabric and settles possessively on your thigh. He doesn’t move further — not yet — but the message is clear: mine.

He leans in again, lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re doing so well for me,” he whispers, just loud enough for the mic to catch. “You want me to keep going?”

You nod. Then realize they can’t see that, and breathe out, “Yes. Please.”

His laugh is low and dark. “Then beg.”

The room spins. You forgot you asked for this. You forgot you wanted him to play rough — like the dominant boyfriend your viewers fantasized about. You forgot that Wonwoo could look at you like that — hooded gaze, parted lips, one hand gripping your thigh, the other loose around your neck like he owns every inch of you.

“I said—” his voice dips, something low that has you clenching around nothing, his grip on your throat just the slightest bit tighter, “—beg.”

You almost forget the camera is even there.

“Please, Wonwoo,” you whisper, and it’s more than a performance now. “Touch me. I need you to.”

He pats your thigh gently. “Good girl.”

The words hit you like a freight train. You whimper, openly this time.

Your eyes shift back to the chat again, trying not to get lost in him—a small part of you fears it's already too late.

singledad65: i knew you'd make such a pretty sub. what a pretty mess already

tigersgaze: fuck i'm so hard already. wanna see you choking on his cock baby.

mommyplease: mommy show us your tits please please please i'm so hard.

Wonwoo shifts slightly, demanding your attention, enough for his knee to knock your legs apart, spreading them just enough for the camera to catch view of the blooming wet spot on your cotton shorts.

You feel dizzy. You’re wet — obviously, hopelessly wet — and every part of you is pulsing, aching, desperate for more. You don’t even care about the stream anymore. You only care about him.

And then, without warning, he grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head, pushing you back onto the bed.

It’s not rough — not really. Just firm enough to make your whole body light up.

“Keep your hands right there,” he says, voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod helplessly. “Yes, Won-.” you gulp stopping yourself from saying his name aloud. You never discussed if he was okay with his name being used on stream.

He kisses down your neck, slow and deliberate, pausing just above your collarbone as his fingers graze the curve of your waist.

You can't imagine how you must look on camera right now, the image of you splayed out just for him. You almost whimper at the thought, your hips rolling up to chase friction.

But before anything else can happen, he pauses.

Pulls back just slightly. Meets your eyes.

“This okay?” he asks, quietly this time. “You sure?”

Your heart clenches.

God. Even now, with your legs spread and your body shaking and the camera still rolling, he’s checking in.

“I’m sure,” you whisper. “I trust you.”

His smile is soft. And just like that, you're ruined all over again.

“Good.” Wonwoo kisses you again — deep, filthy, and completely in control.

Your hands twitch against the pillow beneath your head, instinct screaming at you to touch him, to grab his shoulders, tangle your fingers in his hair, something — but but the larger part of you is begging you to listen, to be rewarded for being a good girl.

“You stay right there,” he murmurs. “You take what I give you.”

You nod, panting. “Yes, W-sir.”

His free hand slides slowly beneath the hem of your sweater, palm splaying flat over your stomach. He doesn’t move higher. Not yet. He waits — lets the silence stretch until your back arches off the mattress and your hips squirm beneath him.

And then he laughs, low and mean. Almost cruel, if not for the affection in his eyes.

“You’re already so needy,” he taunts. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip. You suck it in instinctively and the growl that slips from his throat makes your thighs clamp together.

He sees it. Of course he does.

"Open."

You do. Without question.

He pushes his thumb between your lips, slow and steady, eyes fixed on your face the whole time. You swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you suck, and the flash in his eyes makes your whole body light up like a warning sign.

He pulls his thumb free with a wet pop, then brings it down between your legs, slipping it just inside the waistband of your shorts — not enough to touch you, but enough to make your hips buck toward him.

"You're gonna be good and cum for me like this," he murmurs. "Still wearing your pretty little shorts. Think you can do that?"

“I—yeah,” you pant. “I can.”

“Good girl.”

The two words hit harder than any touch. Your whole body clenches at the sound of it. He starts to rub, slow firm circles over your panties, and your head drops back against the bed.

You’re so wet it’s humiliating. You can feel the damp fabric clinging to you, feel the friction sparking with every motion of his fingers — and you dig your nails into into your palms to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

You’re moaning now, high and choked, not even bothering to hold it in. You can’t. His voice, his hand, his weight on top of yo —it’s all too much.

“Keep your hands up,” he growls, and there’s no mistaking the real edge in his voice now. “You want to cum? You earn it.”

You nod, frantic. “Yes, yes, please—”

“You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

“Sir—!”

He presses harder. You cry out, thighs trembling, hips jerking uselessly as he works you faster. Your breathing is ragged. You’re so close it hurts.

And then—

He stops.

Your eyes fly open.

“Wonwoo—!” You cry out in shock, not even pausing to think about using his name, the nager clear in your tone.

“Shh,” he soothes, lips brushing your cheek. “You’ll get it. But first…”

His hands slip beneath your sweater, and this time he doesn't hesitate. He pushes it up, exposing your bare chest to the camera.

You had honestly forgotten about the stream—about the chat, and clearly they had noticed. Your eyes rake the comments:

singledad95: poor baby she's gone already dacefucker69: fuck i'm gonna cum. mommyplease: thank you daddy, look at mommy's perfect tits. can i cum please? tigersgaze: god i think she forgot about us, but i don't care you look so good like this baby

You gasp. You should feel embarrassed, but you’re so deep into this you don’t even care. You just want his hands back on you.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares. His lips part slightly. There’s something reverent in the way his gaze drags across your skin.

Then he looks up — into the lens. Into the eyes of everyone watching.

“She’s mine,” he says, voice low and lethal. “You can look, but you don’t get to touch. Ever.”

Then he looks down again, and he smiles — slow, devastating, like a man who knows exactly how fucked you are.

“Now beg again, baby. Real pretty for the camera.”

You choke on your own breath.

“Please, Wonwoo,” you whisper. “I need to cum. I—I need you so bad, please, I’ll be good, I swear.”

His hand slips back between your legs.

And this time, he doesn’t stop.

You don’t know if you’re begging in words anymore or just making sounds — the kind of half-choked whines you never thought would leave your mouth outside of your most desperate dreams.

And he’s still touching you, still working tight, devastating circles against your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties. Your hips buck wildly beneath him, your legs trying to close, but his free hand pins your thigh open with ease.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs. “You wanted to cum so bad—so do it. Cum for me, just like this. Let them all watch how sweet you sound when I ruin you.”

You gasp, a high-pitched sob, and your fingers claw into the sheets beside your head, straining to obey his earlier command to keep your hands to yourself. You're on fire, every muscle drawn tight and twitching, a livewire underneath his touch.

“You're so wet," Wonwoo growls. "You really were gonna cum for me in your shorts like a little slut, huh?”

Your whimper is confirmation enough. Your body is spiraling out of your control now.

And then he leans in — mouth brushing your ear, voice so low it’s filthy.

“I'm not even inside you yet and you're already a fucking mess.”

Something in you snaps.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as your orgasm slams into you. Your thighs shake, your breath catches, and your entire body locks up beneath him as he works you through it, never slowing down — rubbing mercilessly until you’re twitching and gasping and trying to twist away from his hand.

But he doesn’t let you go.

“Oh no, no, baby,” he coos, voice suddenly cruel again, deceptively sweet. “You can cum more than that.”

“Wonwoo—” you plead, voice broken.

“You’re gonna cum again. For them,” he says, nodding toward the camera, “and for me.”

Your body is oversensitive now but his hand doesn’t stop. It changes. Slower now, deeper pressure, coaxing you through the aftershocks.

You try to speak. It’s just a stuttering, useless gasp of air.

“Come on,” he says gently now. “One more. Be good.”

And then he bites you, open mouth, right over your collarbone, and that's all it takes for you to fall apart.

The second orgasm crashes over you before you’re fully recovered from the first. It drags a low moan from your lips this time, ragged and raw, and you sob out his name like a prayer as your body convulses underneath him.

Your vision goes blurry for a second.

The only thing anchoring you is the press of his hand between your thighs and the sound of his voice — murmuring quiet praises you’re barely coherent enough to understand.

“Just like that. That’s my girl.”

And you're just coming down from the last waves of your orgasm when Wonwoo shifts you, until you're once again his lap, laying with your back against to his chest, your legs hooked on both sides of his thighs, he pushes your shorts down and off. He removes your sweater too, you're completely bare, body flushed and looking all too fucked out and he hasn't even fucked you yet. Exposed and bare on his till clothed form.

You don’t even notice the camera at first.

He turns his gaze to the camera and smiles. He smirks, really — eyes heavy-lidded, lazy with satisfaction.

You're too fucked out to really pay attention, he says, “If you want more, you know what to do.”

The dings of incoming donations flood the room, one after another until Wonwoo is seemingly satisfied.

He trails a finger up your thigh, playing with your dripping pussy. He looks at the chat for confirmation, you try to, too, eyes still unfocused from pleasure as his fingers tease your core.

“You're so dirty baby, I haven't even got my fingers in you yet and you're dripping.” A sharp whine leaves your lips at his words. His finger teases your opening, before pulling away to brush lightly against your abused clit.

"Tell me, what do you want? Do you want me to touch you here?" He pauses, his breath warm on your skin as he whispers near in your ear, "Or maybe somewhere else?"

His hand slowly moves upwards, caressing your stomach, then higher to cup one of your breasts. He squeezes softly, feeling the weight and shape of it in his palm, brushing a finger against a peaked nipple. “Use your words, baby.”

“Wonwoo,” You whine, rocking your hips softly, feeling his cock, thick and hard beneath you, you feel oh so empty, “Please.”

Wonwoo slowly pushes a finger inside you, he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he continues to place gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone. "Mmm, so tight," he murmurs, slowly pumping his finger in and out, building a steady rhythm.

With his free hand, he reaches up to tangle his fingers in your hair, and pulls, hard enough to sting. He trails his lips over the sensitive skin, nipping and sucking gently as he works another finger into your slick heat, stretching you out.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, his voice rough with need. "Do you like having my fingers inside you, stretching you open?"

You nod, mouth open in a moan—you're so lost in your own world, in the pleasure, it's easy to forget that this is all for show, that this moment is just an act and Wonwoo isn't yours. But in this moment he is.

“More, please.” You whine rocking your hips, simultaneously grinding down on his clothed cock and against his fingers inside you.

His fingers fuck into you with a purpose until—“Ahhh” you moan, shaking, when he pushes against your g-spot with a determined persistence.

His eyes go sharp again as he stares down the camera, he's staking his claim. You're his.

“What do you think? Should I make her cum again like this?” He asks, a smirk on his lips as he stills his hand, you rock your hips shamelessly chasinging your release.

“Wonwoo please please please please please.” A litany of pleas leave your lips, tears nearly forming in your eyes. You're so close you can taste it.

“Don't ask me, baby.” He chuckles low and deep, unbelievably sexy. “Ask them.”

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the viewfinder, fucked out, a mess, eyes heavy lidded. You look debauched, and pretty.

“I want to cum,” Your voice is raw from all the moaning, your lips are plump from biting on them, you look the very essence of sin, “please.”

The chat explodes with tips and that seems to be enough for Wonwoo.

He kisses you like he owns you.

And maybe, in this moment, he does. The way he’s touching you says it — the way he’s holding your hips down, dragging his fingers up your thigh, says it. You can feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance — you hadn't even noticed he'd pulled it out of his sweatpants, and it’s not even in yet but your body is already begging.

“Ready?” he murmurs low against your throat, lips brushing your skin like a tease.

You nod, wordless. Already wrecked, slick and throbbing under him, your thighs trembling with every shallow breath.

“Words,” he reminds you, and you feel the tip press just slightly inside.

“Yes. Yes, Wonwoo, please.”

He groans like he’s been waiting to hear that all night. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes in.

Your gasp catches high in your throat, nails clawing at the sheets beneath you as he splits you open, inch by inch, his hips slow and deliberate. He’s thick, the stretch almost too much—almost, but then he bottoms out, presses flush against your body, and you swear you see white.

Wonwoo pauses there, buried inside you. His voice is a low growl when he speaks.

“Let them see you like this,” he says, staring down the camera with a smirk. “Stuffed full of me.”

You don’t even care that they’re watching. Not when he starts to move.

His thrusts are deep from the start, slow at first, but with that tight rhythm that makes your brain melt. One of his hand wraps around your throat, thumb resting just under your jaw, and the contact makes your whole body tense beneath him. The other steady on your hip, moving you like a ragdoll, his personal fuck toy as he lifts you up and down on his lap, meeting his every thrust.

“You like that?” he says, almost mockingly sweet. “Getting fucked in front of a live audience?”

“Wonwoo—” you gasp, already spiraling.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. “Look at that. So tight. So fucking wet.”

Each thrust punches a little sound out of you, his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over, and when he pulls your hips down to meet his, the slick slap of skin echoes off the walls. You don't even try to stop the sounds falling from your lips anymore—you're beyond pride, beyond shame.

“Gonna cum already?” he teases, kissing along your jaw, grinding deep. “Not even halfway done with you, baby.”

“I—I can’t—” you whimper.

“Yes, you can,” he growls. “You’re gonna cum around my cock like a good girl.”

The orgasm builds fast, your body tight, trembling, every muscle locking up as you struggle to hold back. But his voice is right in your ear, coaxing you through it.

“Let them watch you fall apart for me,” he whispers. “Now. Be good. Cum.”

You shatter.

It’s too much. Your vision goes white, your body clamps tight around him, and your orgasm tears through you like a storm. You cry out, maybe even sob his name, but it’s all blurred in the wave of pleasure. You can’t think, can’t breathe.

Wonwoo groans low in his throat as you tighten around him, and it’s like a switch flips. His hips snap into yours harder now, faster. His grip on your throat tightens as he chases his own release.

“You feel too fucking good,” he hisses, fucking into you like he’s about to lose control. “So perfect. Gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. You want that?”

You nod frantically, barely coherent, and that’s all he needs.

He slams in once more and holds there, hips pressed hard against you as his body trembles, his breath catching in a deep, guttural groan. You feel the heat of it, the way he pulses inside you, and it only makes your body twitch around him again.

Silence.

Except for your ragged breathing, the camera still rolling in the background, and the sound of his heartbeat thudding against your chest.

Wonwoo finally exhales.

He gently eases out of you, hand trailing softly down your thigh, and your body gives a full-body twitch—overstimulated and still shaking.

Your eyes meet his, no teasing now. Just something real.

The camera light is still on.

He gives it a final look, then leans forward, and with the same casual dominance as before, clicks it off.

Then he looks back down at you. Smirking. But softer now.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod.

But your voice is hoarse when you whisper back, “Yeah. But that didn’t feel fake.”

He just brushes the damp hair from your cheek and says, “Because it wasn’t.”

[fairestwriting]

Reader sleeping on the couch after an argument w/Dorm leaders? How they would react w/happy endings?

this got super long so i decided to change up the post layout so longer stuff would look nicer. But im also posting from a new device so if this goes up and theres any formatting fumbles then uhm. you didnt see anything

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Despite how hotheaded and stubborn he is, it’s actually really rare for you two to really argue. He values your opinions on everything, and he’d hate for you to feel like he doesn’t hear you or care about your feelings. The last thing he wants is to make you feel like doesn’t care.

That, however, is something he’s still learning. It’s not very easy to let go of the habits he developed growing up— Especially if he thinks what he’s doing is best for you. He doesn’t know how to convince people, so he ends up coming off forceful and inconsiderate. It might even happen without him noticing he messed up, if you’re not extra straightforward about it.

So he knew you weren’t happy with him, but really didn’t think it was that bad, seeing you asleep on the couch is the last thing he was expecting. Even more if it’s the first time it happens, it makes him freeze go into panic mode.

You’re woken up to a really shaken looking Riddle, asking you what you’re doing on the couch at this time in very genuine confusion. He might not even have considered it was because of the argument, too focused on trying to figure out what’s up with you. And it’s hard to stay upset at him when he so readily listens to whatever you have to say, apologizing profusely and making a promise to not do it again that he’ll always keep. His intention from the start was to do what’s best for you, after all— So if he turns out to be wrong, the first thing he wants to do is to correct it.

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Arguing with Leona is… definitely a situation. It might have you wondering if it even counts as an argument at all. Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to even react to what you have to say, sometimes he straight up states he can’t be bothered to argue. He’s not as stubborn towards people he really likes, but he’s still very proud.

He can actually tell that he messed up very quickly, pretty much in the middle of whatever interaction went wrong, but can’t bring himself to actually back down and admit it. He doesn’t even bother trying to convince himself that he’s right or anything, he’s just that allergic to saying the word “sorry”.

When he walks past you, his first thought is that he should just “let you sulk”. It’s probably not the first time it happens to him in a relationship— And the same routine plays out every time. He wants to walk away, but he can’t. He eventually does, then he comes back and stares for minutes. Regret starts to really sink in then.

You have a blanket draped over you the day after, and Leona just so happens to be around to ask, much more tentatively than usual, if you’re coming with him to get breakfast. It’s his version of an apology, kind of. He’ll actually say it out loud if the subject of the argument was more serious, but that’s rare. He’s not very good at this and the both of you are aware of that, but he still cares, and he’ll get there eventually. Maybe.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he might actually have the lowest argument rate out of all dorm leaders? He owes a lot of it to just being good with words, he pretty much always manages to bring up his disagreements in a really non-confrontational way, they’ll barely even register as disagreements at all. If he can’t find a way to seamlessly compromise, he often just keeps his thoughts to himself.

...Mostly because he gets too anxious at the possibility of you rejecting him. Even if it’s something small, it’ll stay inside his head and refuse to leave, getting dwelled on when life starts to get particularly stressful. If you two argue, the likelihood is that he actually started it, because some other minor issue came up and the pile he was mentally stacking ended up falling apart.

Things can get really messy in the moment. Everything sounds offensive to him when he’s freaking out, while at the same time he’s painfully aware that he’s being overly emotional and causing problems that didn’t exist before. He stops his rant suddenly when self control manages to return to him, but at that point things were already said, and you’re walking separate ways after he awkwardly suggests you two just take a moment to cool off.

He might not even see you on the couch, being too ashamed to leave his office, but Jade will let him know either way. Azul won’t disrupt your sleep, and he’ll even try to give you enough time in the morning to get through your usual routine, but as soon as it’s possible he’s looking for you to privately apologize. He takes care to clear up any misunderstandings before voicing any of his worries, even though it’s visible how nervous he is. It comforts him just to see you looking at him with fondness again, seriously relieved that he won’t be losing you over the situation.

𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is another one who doesn’t really argue, but that’s not to say he doesn’t voice his disagreements, because he does, and he does it very often. It happens as soon as the thought pops up in his mind, spoken all lightheartedly. Regardless of what the subject being talked about is.

…Which can very easily become a problem. He does take all your boundaries very seriously, but you need to be very straightforward about them. So if it happens that you two get into a topic he doesn’t know is touchy for you, he might say something that comes off insensitive. And yes, he will ask you as soon as he sees the change in your expression, but the lack of tact doesn’t mix well with you already being upset, and you end up just walking away.

Only then he stops talking, freezing up completely. He can tell, that you probably want some space now, and he’ll honor that— but the whole thing doesn’t leave his mind for hours. He has no clue of when he should go look for you to try to talk and apologize, no clue of how he should even word it all when he doesn’t know what he did wrong. His heart shatters when he sees you sleeping on the couch.

He probably asked Jamil for advice, then heard that he should really give you your space, but he just can’t take it. You get shaken awake and he’s tearing up while he apologizes, saying he really didn’t mean to make you upset, that he’ll do his best to be more careful if you tell him just what went wrong, but also that you don’t need to talk right now if you don’t want— He’s a little clumsy, and very emotional, but you know he means well, and that he loves you very much, which he’ll be sure remind you of over and over again.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

It’s no secret that he can really nag people, but Vil really doesn’t like to actually argue— He’ll say it every time a disagreement or misunderstanding starts to get tense. Partially a self-reminder, he’s aware that he doesn’t have nearly as much patience as he would like to. It can take a decent amount of effort to keep himself in check.

You two do successfully compromise very often, but sometimes even his suggestions can come off very harsh. It’s no secret to anyone who knows him. His peacemaking attempts are still pretty blunt, and his opinions are never held back. It can easily get upsetting, going as far as feeling like he’s judging you even though he’s not.

Vil actually takes a moment to tell that he might have said the wrong thing. He’s not so proud he’ll refuse to admit his own mistakes, but he’s just… used to upsetting people. You can outright leave mid conversation and it still won’t be his gut reaction, he always believes whatever he’s saying and only wants the best for you. It can take a good few moments until he realizes you’re not just “sulking” the way his underclassmen at the dorm do when he scolds them. Finding you asleep on the couch can honestly shock him.

He won’t wake you up right away— It’s still important for you to get your rest, and he wants to really think about what happened before he says anything— but there’s no way he’ll let you spend the night there. His voice is really soft when he calls your name, waiting for you to gather yourself before he tells you he’s sorry. Gently reassuring you in whatever you need while he explains himself, he’ll make sure everything is okay before he touches you at all, wrapping you up into a hug when everything is finally settled.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

He’s freaking out, full stop. He didn’t even think he’d ever get far enough with someone to be in this position. Since when does he even have the audacity to argue with a partner he never even believed he’d get? Whatever he did, he wholeheartedly believes he screwed up big time.

...And even though it’s his anxiety talking first, he might actually be right. He’s usually really passive, doesn’t even voice disagreements beyond maybe just whining about not wanting to go somewhere with a lot of people. And even then, he might be willing to try, just for you — So what went wrong? Probably a messy misunderstanding, where he said a lot of things he doesn’t mean…

He’s honestly just expecting it to be over. Believing that you’re going to block all his socials and never speak to him again. The second you walk away, the only thing in his mind is the absolute worst, so when he sees you on the couch he’s… relieved? But just for a second. It means there’s still hope for him! You would have just disappared if you wanted nothing to do with him, right? But he also recognizes the trope, he knows he’s going to need to work to be forgiven—

Idia is just standing there when you wake up. Pacing around the living room and losing his mind. He gets startled when he sees you’re awake, like he’s terrified of what will come next. At least he’s had (more than) enough time to think about what happened… the apology you get is very much sincere, even if it gets rambly at certain parts, ending with the two of you comforting each other.

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

For obvious reasons, things can get tricky with Malleus. Whenever you feel like you’re really starting to understand him, something strange will happen again, it’s a real cycle. All the factors in his upbringing connect with each other to build a very specific kind of character. Even if it looks like you two are really similar, there’s going to be a minimum of a handful of details that just change everything.

He’s always careful with his words, with basically no exception, but sometimes he just doesn’t know what the “right” thing to say would be, or he doesn’t know what a certain cue could mean in the moment, or whatever he knows is something that doesn’t apply outside of specific context of the royal family he’s a part of— The possibilities are endless, but a lot of the time, it’s more likely that things will just chalk up to the fact you don’t understand each other’s perspectives.

He might notice something is off right away, he might think nothing wrong happened at all, it can be wildly different depending on the topic at hand. He’ll ask what’s wrong if he does notice, but even if you do try to explain to him why you’re hurt, it may not make sense inside his head right away. And even though he’s genuine and fast to apologize, it can feel cold when he clearly can’t tell what’s actually wrong.

When he walks by the couch you’re asleep on, it doesn’t even register as being related to the argument right away. He shakes you awake to tell you it’s not a good idea to sleep there because it gets really cold later in the night. Right now, he’s had enough time to process and understand the situation, quickly giving you a new, truly heartfelt apology. Even if in the whole thing, in retrospect, was a pretty minor issue — And if it isn’t, or you’re just not ready to forgive him yet for whatever reason, he doesn’t push it. The only thing he’ll insist on is having you sleep somewhere more comfortable, really.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[clansocreations]

.....that's not what Thud is about.

Or well it IS about fatherhood and being a workaholic but the goblins are introduced in the one after that and the fifth elephant is the one before that. (Vimes only finds out he's gonna be a father at the end of the fifth elephant and actually wait the one after that is "Nightwatch" so it's two books before that)

Thud is about a civil war threatening to break out between dwarfs and trolls of Ankh-Morpork, a murder investigation, a boardgame, dwarf graffiti and Vimes insisting on being home at six pm each night every night (even when hes half dead and fighting for his life) because nothing else (nothing. Else.) matters more than reading to his kid.

I love Thud. My second favorite one.

Also Death also has two Near Vimes experiences in the Fifth Elephant because Vimes really had a shit time in Überwald, goddamn. The second time the following happens:

Vimes: You gonna like...help me?

Death: YES.

Vimes: Uh....when?

Death: WHEN THE PAIN BECOMES UNBEARABLE.

Vimes: oh. Great.

Death: THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR, IS IT.

Also the novel Death pulls out in Thud is a murder mystery iirc. Which is just. Peak.

Edit: and also the one with the goblins is about Lady Sybil and Vetinari teaming up to get Vimes to take his vacation days and he immediately gets caught up in uncovering crime the second they get there.

Edit: AGAIN!

I love dragging my friends into Discworld

[n0vazsq]

Till the day that I die | OP81 x Reader

pairing . . . oscar piastri x dyslexic!youtuber!reader

summary . . . Being dyslexic on social media may be hard, but your knight in shining armour is always there to defend you

request . . . yes!! based on this request

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . blanca soler MY WIFE and lily zneimer for couple posts!

alexavia yaps . . . havent written a smau in a while im afraid ive forgotten how </3 ANYHOW im saur happy ydek bc i dont have to edit this?? i dont have to read it 75 times for mistakes?? MY DYSLEXIC ASS CAN BE FREE!!!!! ps this is LITTERED with refrences! also ignore how i kind off didnt follow the request I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO DO IT. dechipher the captions yallselves im too lazy to do it

y/n l/n posted a new video !

comments !

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf, lando_norris and 2.2M others

yourusername grmw vlog is out!!! had so fun filsming it and we had an ella feaure included!!! (ella is y/n's dog!)

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oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri MY HEART

y/n l/n posted a new video !

comments !

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lando_norris, nicole.piastri and 3.7M others

yourusername small phtotdup since my boyafriend is away at war ad is begging for pcitures </3 also a new vlog is out!

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oscarpiastri Text me please

yourusername will do

lando_norris this would've been a normal post if oscar wasn't a sappy muppet

yourusername oi leave my boyfriend alone

oscarpiastri When she defends you from haters <3

lando_norris you bring out a side in him that no one wants to see

yourusername sorry?

lando_norris you better be

username9 MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER

y/nplsmarryme gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous omg

verchstappan we're so back

oscah.pastry SHES MY IDOL

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, lando_norris, yourbsf and 3.2M others

yourusername finally reunited with my beuatufil biyfriend and the love of my life <33 love you till the die that iday tagged: oscarpiastri

click to view all comments

oscarpiastri I swear to god if someone comments about the typos in the caption I will personally run you over with my F1 car

yourusername so romantic 😍

oscarpiastri All for you ❤

lando_norris till the die that i day?

yourusername FUCK

oscarpiastri It's alright I got the meaning

yourusername i hare this dysexia

yourusername LANDO I SWEAR TO GOD

lando_norris I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING

yourusername you were about to

lando_norris sigh

superyuki22 i need this in my life

username10 mother y/n feed us some ynoscar crumbs

username11 if i was oscar id have a meltdown everyday out of stress of losing this goddess

username12 this is the best love story in the history of love stories

username13 im calling it theyre romeo and juliet

ynshoee_ this is so goals what

lawsons.lawyer parasocial relationship

charlesleclerc You two are very cute

yourusername so are you and alex!!

charlesleclerc You have my permission to propose

yourusername who said i alrwady didn?

charlesleclerc Okay.....

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, nicole.piastri, charlesleclerc and 3M others

oscarpiastri Happy anniversary, my love. From sneaking glances in the school hallways to cheering me on from the paddock, you’ve been my constant through it all. No matter how fast life moves, you’ll always be my greatest win. I love you forever, always. tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

redbullb1tch max can keep his championships this is the REAL win

ynfann18 PREACH.

nicole.piastri The greatest prize Osc has ever won! Here's to many more!!

yourusername thank you mama piastri 🥹 🫶

oscarpiastri Thank you mum <3

lando_norris nothing more iconic than this relationship

yourusername not even your win?

lando_norris let's not get ahead of ourselves

oscarpiastri You said it yourself?

lando_norris well don't take it so seriously

h4m1lt0ns44 if racing is all i need to pull someone like y/n i'd be a world champion

yourbsf from delievering your notes to each other in high school to seeing you celebrate half a decade of this relationship, you two have the best relationship ever 🫶

yourusername thank you sm ml <33 hope to see you in the paddock with your f1 bf!

oscarpiastri Thank you, bsf/name!! I'll try my best to matchmake you with a driver so N/n can see you in the paddock more often

yourusername OSC

oscarpiastri Anything to make you happy ❤

lando_norris hey yourbsf

oscarpiastri Oh?

username14 THE NO.1 COUPLE ON THIS EARTH FRRRR

username15 i'm so sick i want this RIGHT NOW

username16 my fav thing about them is oscar defending y/n's dyslexia

username17 If your man isn't like Oscar then dump him

yourusername you always make me feel like the most special girl in the world, even when your life is driving 300 kilometres per hour 🥹 im so proud of you, not just for what you’ve acheived on the track but for who you are off it too 🫶 ill love you till the day that I die, my favorit boy forever 🥰

oscarpiastri You’ll always be my greatest achievement, on or off the track. I love you more than words, forever and always. ❤️

yourusername till the day that i die

fin.

 taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[i-starcreamed]

Hi!, can I get some headcanons of transformers one character being jealous and the reader teases them.

D-16, Orion, Sentinel, Badassatron, and elita.

TF-ONE X READER

I tried to make this silly I'm feeling silly...enjoy

Post includes all of above :3

D-16

Tries to act unaffected by it, but doesn’t make a huge deal

Usually

He’s usually nice about it

Let’s say a bot is being really friendly with you, they’re making you laugh and everything. D sees from the distance, then comes up to you. Placing a servo against the small of your back-frame. “Heyy what’s so funny? I want to hear too :)”

He’s forcing a smile so bad.

He’s harmless, man, he trusts you completely

If another bot is for real flirting with you though, he's going to be so passive-aggressive

It’s more like he wants ur attention lol

If you teased him about it he’s going to deny it so hard

"What? No, no no.. I’m not jealous..pfft"

If you’re extra sweet maybe he’ll admit it

NOO y/n.. I’m funnier than them anyway.. I’m cooler too..

Orion

Don’t get jealous often either

He trusts you, he’s trustful of most bots

He gets jealous when you don't give him enough attention too

You’ll be talking to someone and he’ll just be in the background like,

“I’m..Y/N? Hey I..y/n? Uhm..I'm..right here..”

He’s so awkward, he doesn’t want to be rude to either of you but he’s lonely!!

If you tease him about looking sad when you’re not looking at him all the time, he’ll softly scoff.

"Well...yeah. They were flirting with you.."

sad puppy eyes

"Orion..they were asking me about Sentinels speech yesterday.."

"Oh...sorry."

eughhh

Sentinel

Oh boy

It’s a mix of irritation and jealousy

Why are you looking at someone else! When you can be looking at him!

He might be an attention seeker. He’ll just say things to catch your attention.

“Hey sweetspark, come look at my new paint job!” He calls you over as you're busy talking to someone else, he looks exactly the same btw

If you teased him I feel like he’ll take it way too seriously

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?? I’m literally Sentinel??”

But then his insecurity starts

“Wait…do you like talking to them more?”

evil sad puppy eyes

He'll only be content if you feed him compliments. Also erm..never talk to that bot again

#toxic

If he can’t demote the bot he was jealous of, he’ll try to one-up them, otherwise they are FIRED

After he gets over it he’ll be extra affectionate. You also get affectionate when you tease him so maybe it’s not so bad after all

insert makeout session

B-127

Badassatron

He’s definitely a bit attention and touch-starved after being stuck in low levels for who knows how many years

It’s only logical that he’s glued to your side for the rest of your life

If he’s jealous it’s very obvious. He tries to do something to get your attention or awkwardly stands there

Hey y/n look at this! - Does a backflip and falls

Tease him about it and he gets flustered

"Whattt? No, I’m not jealous!" He lets out a cocky laugh

“Ok maybe a little..”

Kiss his faceplate all over and he’s yours

He's definitely the least harmful

If he's jealous about a bot he particularly dislikes or they're flirting with you out and about, he might be more passive-aggressive about it

"Hey don't mean to intrude or anything, but uh, I'm kinda busy with my PARTNER. And by PARTNER I mean we're together. Yeah, uh huh! So, if you don't mind, my PARTNER and I are going to ignore you now. Since we're y'know..busy being together."

Elita

She’s smug about her jealousy, but only you could tell

“No, I’m not jealous. What makes you think that?”

Meanwhile, she’s giving the nastiest glare to the other bot.

“You really need to stop bringing their hopes up. Did you hear the way they were flirting with you?”

“Elita...they were just thanking me."

“Don’t even look at them actually"

If you tease her, she either denies it or is very proud

Like yeah she got a little jealous, she has such an amazing partner and anyone in their right mind would see that too.

Or no..she's definitely not jealous. She's just speaking her mind

[oscopastry101]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LOVER

charles leclerc x piastri!male reader synopsis: two guys in love, but nobody really knows. six years in, and its still just quiet mornings, secret glances, and a shared life out of the publics eye. well, for now.

smau, fluff, uhm other??

warnings: just Pinterest guys as fc, any brunettes = charles, blondes = reader, this is kinda everywhere tbh?

!!! also i made reader have chronic leg pain, but like its not super severe nor is it mentioned outside of like.. one picture?

authors note: for the plot the leclercs consider ollie a leclerc and oscar well obv a brother-in-law lolz, uhm first story? also reader is oscars brother. also sorry if the french and stuff is wrong im using a translator..

enjoy!! C:

oscarpiastri posted a story! charles_leclerc posted a story!

[caption: always looking out for my brother] [caption: new additions to the family]

arthur_leclerc replied: your brother looks oddly like my brothers husband ↳ oscarpiastri replied: you can't even see their faces, how would you know? ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: magic.

user1 replied: oscar has a BROTHER??

user2 replied: so oscar has a brother- but who is his brother with??

nicolepiastri replied: stays safe my boys ❤️ tell charles he should visit again soon! ↳ oscarpiastri replied: i'll share the word with him ❤️

lando replied: i've lost the plot, wdym brother osco? ↳ oscarpiastri replied: stay confused ↳ lando replied: you're so MEAN

arthur_leclerc replied: do i get one too???? ↳ charles_leclerc replied: uhm no?? you're not my husband ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: IM YOUR BROTHER???

user2 replied: omg they're so cute

leclerc_pascale replied: how cute, quels sont leurs noms? [what are their names?] ↳ charles_leclerc replied: Gizmo et Poppy, maman [Gizmo and Poppy, mom] ↳ leclerc_pascale replied: parfait, je t'aime [perfect, I love you] ↳ charles_leclerc replied: je t'aime maman [I love you mom]

georgerussell63 replied: you should get me one as well ↳ charles_leclerc replied: uhm, no!

liked by oscapastry, nicolepiastri and 507 others yourusername i'm being forced to bake

tagged oscarpiastri and justaninchident

oscpastry: you offered to bake them wdym 💔 ↳ yourusername: no i was forced by cha ↳ oscpastry: thats not my fault ↳ justaninchident: I ASKED NICELY? ↳ yourusername: sure... ↳ justaninchident: just say you hate me 💔

nicolepiastri: they look amazing! ↳ yourusername: thank you, mam ❤️

user3: those look so good, send some to me asap

bff: yumm pls send the recipe! ↳ yourusername: ofc i will

kingarthur: do i get any???? ↳ yourusername: only if you come over

bearguy: wth they look so good yn let me have one ↳ yourusername: uh i mean if you somehow get here feel free to take one? bring kimi if you come. ↳ bearguy: ON IT!

charles_leclerc posted a story! arthur_leclerc posted a story!

[caption: almost back on season!] [caption: say hi to the cute dog]

yourusername replied: you look so good my love ↳ charles_leclerc replied: never as good as you, amour

user2 replied: looking fine as always mr. leclerc

user4 replied: i cant wait for this season!! new teammate, im excited

ferrari replied: can't wait to have you back! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: i can't wait either!

lewishamilton replied: excited to race beside you, charles! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: me as well!

arthur_leclerc replied: wow that excited to leave yn and i ↳ charles_leclerc replied: not yn, but you? of course

charles_leclerc replied: awwss its my big dog

yourusername replied: hi hydra, my cutie

user5 replied: hi cute dog! hes so adorable!

user6 replied: now whos dog is that??

olliebearman replied: DID YOU GET A DOG? ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: no, its hydra ↳ olliebearman replied: that.. makes sense!

kimi.antonelli replied: hi cute dog!

liked by 300,221 people gossipf1 Mclaren driver Oscar Piastri was seen walking into the Australian Grand Prix with a mysterious guy! Is this the brother who Piastri posted on his story about a week ago, or is it someone else we don't quite know? Stay tuned!

user7: I honestly think it's his brother

user8: if it's his brother BOOMSHAKALAKA DAYMMMMM ↳ user9: have we even seen his face?? ↳ user8: I did! I was there when they walked in, and let me tell you WOW! he was gorgeous

user10: who cares!! first race of the season and its Oscars home race, im so excited!

yourusername: they're quick with it, oh my ↳ oscpastry: always.

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 423,201 others ynpiastri new account, who this?

tagged: oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: welcome aboard ↳ ynpiastri: thanks osco

lando: YOURE THE BROTHER?? ↳ ynpiastri: well, yes? you're the other driver? ↳ lando: yes!! nice to meet you, cooler piastri ↳ ynpiastri: nice to meet you too, less cool driver ↳ lando: BETRAYAL..

mclaren: welcome to the paddock, yn! ↳ ynpiastri: thank you very much mclaren

ausgp: excited to have you

user11: uhm user8 was right he IS fine ↳ user8: ID NEVER LIE

user12: PLS ONE CHANCE MR PIASTRI

user8: OMG I TOLD YALL

liked by ynpiastri, oscarpiastri and 928,123 others ausgp OSCAR PIASTRI GETS P1 THIS WEEKEND!! not only, but fellow aussie and rookie, Jack Doohan, gets points!! congrats!! p1 and p9 are no joke!

tagged: oscarpiastri and jackdoohan

ynpiastri: australians RISE, so proud of you osco!! and so glad to meet you jack, i'm very proud! ↳ oscarpiastri: thank you yn! ↳ jackdoohan: thank you so much yn, it means a lot!

mclaren: THATS OUR DRIVER!

alpinef1team: Lets Go Jack!!! Amazing first race, keep it up!

user13: IS THIS REAL??

user14: LETS GOOOOO

user15: OP81 DOMINATION IS REAL!!!

lando: congrats mate! you raced well today ↳ oscarpiastri: you as well!

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 512,123 others ynpiastri about sums up this week

user16: who are you doing the titanic pose with??? ↳ ynpiastri: secret shh

oscarpiastri: smoking in the house again? 😒 ↳ ynpiastri: my house my choice ↳ justaninchident: you're lucky i'm not home tsktsk

user17: hes so FINE?

user18: is this like.. a soft launch or sum

olliebearman: pls make more cookies, it was a rough weekend ↳ ynpiastri: sighhh alright, bring kimi

liked by oscpastry, bearguy and 89 others kingarthur i know what i saw...

justaninchident: delete it. ↳ kingarthur: nuh uh ↳ justaninchident: arthur, arrête d'être ennuyeux! [arthur, stop being annoying!]

yourusername: be so fr arthur

oscpastry: oh dear what now.. ↳ kingarthur: they were being... yk! ↳ oscpastry: oh come on yourusername justaninchident you said you'd behave ↳ yourusername: we were! arthur was just nosy 🙄

arthur_leclerc posted a story!

[caption: would you look at that.. husband reveal? charles_leclerc] [caption: arthur is dead to me, but hes not wrong]

arthur_leclerc replied: oh no.. did i post that

oscarpiastri replied: YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT DO THIS

ynpiastri replied: you're dead to me. ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: tbh im not sorry

user19 replied: WDYM??? WDYM???? HUHHHH

user20 replied: CHARLES AND YN PIASTRI???? WHT.

lando replied: ARE YOU SERIOUS??? ↳ lando replied: WHAT ELSE DONT I KNOW?? ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: i'm sorry you found out this way, man

olliebearman replied: papa y papa!

kimiantonelli replied: i hope you asked :( ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: duh, charles and yn have been planning to, charles just told me to get it over with

ynpiastri replied: my beautiful, handsome husband ↳ charles_leclerc replied: and my beautiful, handsome husband

leclerc_pascale replied: Félicitations mes garçons! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: merci maman

arthur_leclerc replied: you asked for it ↳ charles_leclerc replied: yeah, but i have to play the part

carlossainz55 replied: congrats amigo! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: merci carlos!

lorenzotl replied: finally, congrats charles! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: thank you, enzo

user21: YOURE WHAT?? YURE MARRIED?

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc and 1,203,202 others charles_leclerc home is where you are ❤️

tagged: ynpiastri

oscarpiastri: finally, hardest kept secret

ynpiastri: hard launched by my brother-in-law but i could never regret marrying you ↳ charles_leclerc: i'm glad arthur doesn't repulse you ↳ ynpiastri: only sometimes ↳ arthur_leclerc: HEY!

arthur_leclerc: you're welcome!

leclerc_pascale: my boys

carlossainz55: i can't say it enough, congrats amigos! ↳ charles_leclerc: thank you very much carlos ↳ ynpiastri: thank you carlos!

user22: i'm still in shock.

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 723,123 others ynpiastri married this guy who used to pay me to make trays of cookies for him! but i wouldn't change a thing ❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: you forgot to mention they were the best cookies in the world ↳ ynpiastri: i didn't forget, i just let you say it

oscarpiastri: do i get brother of the year or what ↳ olliebearman: you get no awards, you've known forever...

user23: are these cookies still available in the current day or..

kimiantonelli: congrats!! you two are amazing ↳ ynpiastri: not as amazing as you

BONUS!! (i was gonna do a cool gc thing but i cant find any good apps so ill write it down ig..)

groupchat: leclerc family (unofficial)

arthur: so.. i may have done something!

oscar: WDYM MAY HAVE?? you said you wouldn't post it

yn: I hate you. no. i DESPISE you

charles: You.. posted the story?? 😐

arthur: TO BE FAIR! you told me to "get it over with" i took that as encouragement

oscar: HE WAS JOKING??

charles: i WAS JOKING. i meant we'd plan a cute post later?? then reveal it???

ollie: to be fair.. everyone kinda knew well, anyone who payed attention you guys weren't subtle

kimi: I think youre all dramatic i think it was very cute

lando: IM STILL PROCESSING??? MARRIED??? FOR TWO YEARS??????

oscar: why are you in this gc again?? like genuinley

lando: i'm here through acquaintanceship, duh! and because of you

yn: arthur you aren't invited to the next family movie night

arthur: You say that every time :((

charles: this time we mean it. and you're paying for dinner next time

arthur: how rude! but worth it

authors note!! that's a wrap! i honestly can't believe i wrote this and that it's over. this originally was a silly idea with charles and a polish baker but then i switched it up so much. do i regret it?? only a little bit. thank you for sticking around though!

to everyone who will like, comment, scream beside me, or just read quietly: thank you!!

[vinnyvamppp]

Uhm reader riding Mark to tears pls?

One More Moan, Baby

Note: ANOTHER ONE????? You guys really like that submissive man. Okay, so since the first one was straight HORNINESS. We're going with something a little emotionally softer (also, because that specific route is getting a little saturated). This is a sensual, slow ride, my friend. I assume that since we asked for this again, he wasn't submissive and crying enough last time. So here we go.

Synopsis: Mark Grayson finally lets you take care of him—in more ways than one. What starts as emotional vulnerability after a tough fight spirals into the kind of intimacy he’s never known when you ride him with patience and love, it pushes him past the edge, into tears, into confession, and into something real.

Warnings:

Smut, Penetrative Sex, Cowgirl Position, Overstimulation, Mild Dom!Reader, Praise Kink, Pussy Drunk Mark, Love Confessions, Slight Sadistic Teasing, No Contraception, CreamPie, Crying... so much crying, Post-nut Tenderness. WC: 2.4k

Sub!Mark Grayson x Fem!Dom!Reader

You don’t ask questions when he shows up at your door. Instead, you just open it—wordlessly, and let him in. Mark steps over the threshold like he’s unsure he deserves to. His knuckles are scraped, his lip split. His suit is torn, blood soaking through at the shoulder, but it’s not the worst you’ve seen. Not by far. What is new is the silence. No joking. No deflection. No tight smile with a “You should see the other guy.”

Just… an awkward silence and an expression carved from sorrow. Mark stands in your doorway like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His shoulders are slumped, rising as he breathes too shallowly for someone who just saved the world again. You guide him into the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet lid. The light is warm, humming faintly above you. You grab the first aid kit. His costume hits the tile with a heavy thud, his disrobed form sitting before you. You kneel in front of him and start with the obvious—split lip, shallow gash on his brow, scraped cheekbone.

Up close, he’s shaking, just barely, but enough that you notice. You dab antiseptic on the cut above his brow, and he flinches. His hand shoots out, reflexive, and clasps yours. Not hard, nor is he pushing you away. Just... holding on. His fingers curl around yours, and your breath catches as you glance up at him. His eyes are fixed on your face. Wide, puppy-eyed, wet at the edges. “Sorry,” he says, his voice low with a slight crack. “Didn’t mean to—” You cut in before he could finish. “Don’t apologize.”

You don’t pull away; rather, gently squeeze back. From your periphery, you notice he stares at your joined hands like they’re something sacred. You keep cleaning him—quieter now. His thumb brushes against yours before tracing over each knuckle. When you lean in to get the last bit of blood off his cheek, he tilts his head slightly, subtly leaning into you.

You can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. That’s when he speaks, just barely above a whisper, “You always do this.” You pause, brows furrowing slightly. “Do what?” A beat passes, then two. “Take care of me. Like I’m yours.”

The words hit you low in the stomach. You meet his gaze, and he's not teasing or testing you like usual. His eyes are glassy, brow furrowed—like he’s afraid of your answer. “Maybe I thought you’d never be ready to hear that you are,” you say. He exhales like the air’s been punched from his lungs. “If I kiss you,” he says, voice breaking, “I won’t be able to pretend anymore.”

You step between his knees and take his face in your hands, gently skimming your thumbs over the line of his jaw. “Then don’t.”

The kiss is slow. Not hesitant, but careful. Like both of you are tasting something you’ve been starved for. He kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks. Like every second he’s not touching you is one he can’t afford. You feel his hands on your waist, then your back, sliding up like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you through his trembling fingers. And when your tongue brushes his, he makes a sound deep in his throat—almost a sob. His fingers dig into your hips; only then does he stop shaking.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to…” He stutters, “I don’t want to just fuck you,” he whispers, ragged and nervous. “I know.” He swallows thickly. “I want everything.” His words brought forth every ounce of restraint you had. Your fingers gently clasped his, trembling. To him, it might’ve been you carrying the burden of his sadness. To you, it was restraint, need, and the overwhelming sense of greed you felt. “Then take it, Grayson.” You guide him to the bed with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch. He sits at the edge, looking up at you like you hung the stars. His chest rises and falls in shaky, shallow breaths. You crawl into his lap slowly, straddling him. You feel the heat of him; he’s coiled tight and buzzing, relinquishing the futile hold he’s had over his fate and into your comfort. Your hands trace over his shoulders, down his arms, and back up to his jaw. “You okay?” you ask, voice low, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Mark nods once, but it’s a lie. “No,” he breathes. “Not even close.” You kiss him again—slower this time. He opens under you like a flower in sunlight, helpless to resist. You feel his fingers dig into your hips, not hard, just desperate. You roll your hips once, teasing friction through your clothes, and he shudders. “Fuck—” His head falls forward. “You feel… even like this, it’s too much.”

“We haven’t even started yet.” You whisper it in his ear, and he makes a sound—half gasp, half moan. His cock is hard beneath you already, twitching against his boxers. He’s straining, flushed, a little out of breath—and you haven’t even touched him properly yet. You lean back just enough to peel off your shirt, then his, and then kiss down his throat and his chest. His hands tremble where they rest on your thighs. You guide one to your breast, covering it with your own.

“Touch me, baby. I want you to.”

He does, and reverently so. His calloused fingers caress down the curved expanse of flesh, eyes following every inch. His index finger and thumb gently clamp around the hardened bud, gooseflesh arising on your skin as he rolls and pinches it between his digits. Every shiver, jump, and jolt vibrates through his body. It's explorative, his hands traveling wherever his eyes would allow as deep, pink blotches creep across his ears and neck. He’s in utter awe. And just as his rough palms reach your hips, you grind your hips down, just enough to make him gasp. You lean in close again, lips brushing his ear. “I’m gonna ride you, Mark.” He lets out a choked, “God.” Your fingers trail down his chest and the ripple of his abs, watching each muscle jump as he lets out a tight-lipped groan. “Slow and deep,” you murmur. “So you can feel every second of it.” His hips twitch up involuntarily. You press him down. “Stay still.” He nods vehemently. “I—I’ll try.”

You both get rid of what’s left between you, clothes tossed to the side in a tangle. When you reach down and wrap your hand around him, he moans like he’s dying. Like, it’s too good. He’s already hard by the time your hand wraps around him—thick, hot, and heavy, twitching in your grip like he’s barely holding himself back. Pre-cum beads at his tip, a silken slickness that leaks down its length with each stroke, weeping across your fingers with a wet squelch. His dick was heaving, twitching. “You’re so sensitive,” you whisper. “Is it always like this for you?”

“Not—not like this.” His voice breaks. “Only with you.” You stroke him slowly, your palm gliding over flushed skin, feeling him twitch in your grip. His eyes are glazed already, lips parted, and chest heaving. When you line him up and sink down—inch by inch—his breath catches in his throat like he’s drowning in you. His stomach is carved as he holds his breath, his eyes roll into his skull, and his jaw slacks.

“F-fuck,” he whimpers. “You’re so—warm—tight—holy shit—” You bottom out with a slow grind of your hips. He lets out a shaking exhale that sounds suspiciously close to a sob. You pause, fingers gently placed against his cheek. “Too much?” He shakes his head frantically. “No—no, please—don’t stop—I just—I can’t—fuck, I can’t believe this is real.” He fills you like nothing ever has—thick, hot, and stretching you just enough to make your eyes flutter. You can feel every ridge of him, every twitch, every slow drag of his cock as you lift your hips and sink back down. He’s flushed to the root, deep enough to make you swear you can feel him in your throat. And he’s pulsing, subtle but steady, like his body’s already fighting not to give in. Like being inside you is dragging him closer and closer to the edge with every squeeze of your cunt around him.

You rock your hips, setting a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs like he’s trying to keep from floating away. He’s on cloud nine. His eyes flutter open, then closed, then open again like he’s afraid to miss even a second of this. “Mark,” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You feel so good.” You’re so wet it’s obscene—slick and tight, gripping him like you were made for this. Every time you slide down, you can feel him twitch inside you, the thick press of him dragging against your walls. You flutter around him every time he whimpers, your body reacting to his unraveling, tightening, and coaxing. It’s not just sex, no, it’s possession. Your cunt is holding him like a vice, and you know he’s never felt anything like this before.

He moans—a high-pitched and desperate thing. His hands slide up to your waist, then back down, like he doesn’t know where to hold on. Each roll of your hips sends sparks shooting up his spine. You clench around him just a little, and he gasps, one hand flying up to cover his mouth like he’s ashamed of the sound.

“Don’t hide from me,” you say, catching his wrist. You pull his hand away. “I want to hear you.” The first tear rolls down his cheek almost silently—but it shatters him. His body shudders beneath you, breath hitching, muscles tightening like the emotion is crawling out of his skin. He clings to you harder, arms wrapping around your waist like he’s trying to crawl inside you, to disappear into the feeling. You’re still riding him, so slow and utterly relentless, and it’s too much, the pleasure, the intimacy, the fucking love. His tears aren’t silent anymore, his wet lashes bat against your skin. Soft, choked cries spill from his throat, muffled by the crook of your neck. And with every sob, his cock twitches inside you—each shuddering breath making him throb, precum slicking your walls, his body pushing toward orgasm without permission. You feel him jerk inside you again, and that’s when he realizes. You like it.

You’re clenching around him—tighter, needier—because he’s crying. Because he’s this vulnerable. That realization pulls another whimper out of him, cracked and high and fucking broken. “You—oh, fuck—you like seeing me like this,” he gasps, his voice hitching on another sob. “You—fuck—you’re so tight—I can’t—”

“You’re beautiful like this,” you whisper, kissing his cheek, tasting the salt. “So good for me. So full.” Every sob makes his cock jerk helplessly, every pulse dragging him closer to the edge. He’s not fucking you anymore; you’re fucking him, milking his orgasm out of him with nothing but love and pressure and patience. “Please,” he gasps. “Don’t stop—don’t stop—please, I need it—I need you.” You ride him deeper, grinding your hips down with a swivel. His hands tremble on your waist. His moans break into little breathless gasps and sobs. “You feel so good,” he rasps. “It’s too much—I don’t know how to—how to handle it—” His head falls against the pillow. “You don’t have to. Just feel it. I’ve got you.”

He lets out a strangled sound and starts to cry in earnest. Not ugly sobbing—just helpless, overwhelmed tears sliding down his cheeks as his body shudders beneath you. Every thrust, every roll of your hips pushes him deeper into that place he’s never let himself go. “You like being inside me like this, baby?” you whisper, your voice like silk against his ear. “So deep, so fucking full?” He moans, jaw tightening. “Yes—yes, I—God—don’t stop.” You clench around him, and his hips stutter up involuntarily. “You’re so sensitive,” you murmur, grinding down slow and mean. “You’re gonna come just from this, aren’t you?” His toes begin curling behind you. “I—I can’t—please—” He’s babbling now, breath hitching, voice thick with need. “You feel too good—I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“I love you,” he gasps. “I love you, I love you—”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know. Let it out, baby. Let me have it.”

You ride him until he’s clinging to you like a lifeline, while his whole body tenses right there, right on the edge, ruined and perfect. His orgasm rips through him like a live wire, every nerve lit, and every muscle locked. He groans, his voice cracking into your skin, and you feel his cock twitch violently inside you, spilling deep and thick and hot. His arms are wrapped around you like a vice. His whole body tenses and shakes—like the pleasure is dragging the tears out of him, one pulse at a time. His hips jerked forward with enough force that your spine popped.

But he doesn’t stop. And neither do you as you grin sweetly at his trembling, sweaty figure. “Mark—” you whisper, breath catching as you shift your hips.

He moves, first with a subtle thrust. Then another shallow and hesitant one. He only grew bolder. He’s still hard—barely softening—but your warmth, your slick, the feeling of your walls gripping him, dragging him back in, makes his cock twitch and thicken all over again. “Can’t,” he breathes. “You feel too good—I can’t stop—I don’t want to—” he gasped, voice hoarse and soaked with adoration. He sobbed again when you clenched down, like your pussy was pulling the orgasm from his body one pulse at a time.

He sits up, bringing you with him, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. His arms stay locked around you, pulling you down onto him with every shaky grind of his hips. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest. He buries his face in your neck and moans—not pretty or composed, but broken, almost grateful. “You’re still so tight,” he repeats through pants. “So fucking wet. God—you’re perfect.”

You thread your fingers through his sweat-damp curls and tug gently, and the sound he makes is obscene—a cracked whimper that dissolves into a groan as his hips jerk up, thrusting into you again, deeper this time. Every ridge kissed him, your puffy lips hugged him, and when his dick wept, your pussy wept harder. “Fuck—baby—every time you touch me—” He shudders again. “Feels like I’m gonna come all over again.”

You rock your hips with his, and it’s filthy—his cock dragging through your soaked, swollen heat, the mess between you only adding to the slick slide. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing like he needed something to hold onto while he fucked himself deeper into you, spreading you wider so he can thrust up harder. He groans against your skin, open-mouthed kisses dragging across your throat, his voice rasping. “Can’t stop. I don’t wanna stop. You feel too good—I need to feel you come on me, please—please let me give it to you.” He babbled. And he was right all along. He wasn’t fucking you. He was giving himself over to you. You watched his face as your pussy fluttered around him—how his brows drew together, mouth falling open—a tear rolling down his cheek. The sound he made wasn’t a moan or a sob, it was something in between. You clenched again, just to feel him cry out. “You’re so easy, baby,” you whispered. “Just a little squeeze and you’re coming undone.” He didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. His tongue slithered lower and laved over your nipple like he couldn’t get enough; his actions were pure greed. The bud peaked against the cold drag of his spit, and the tiny tremor that rolled through him at your moan made your stomach clench. Every pummel forward made his dick slick with cum, his own arousal dripping down his balls. He was so easy to affect, so open, so ruined by your body it was almost funny if it wasn’t so hot. Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails scratching gently against his scalp. Every time you did it, he moaned a soft, boyish noise—completely unguarded. His hips stuttered, and his body trembled beneath you. You cradled his head against your chest, letting him fuck up into you like a man possessed.

You cup his face, tilting it up. His eyes are glassy, wet-lashed, pupils blown. He looks desperate, high off of you. His mouth finds yours with wet, needy kisses that drag moans from your chest. His cock is hitting deeper like this, his angle perfect, and the way he’s gripping your ass, pulling you down into each thrust like he’s guiding you exactly where he wants you—it’s too much. “Mark—baby—I’m close,” you gasp. “Right there, fuck, don’t stop—”

“I won’t,” he says, frantic now. “I won’t—I’ll stay right here—I’ve got you—I want you to come, please—I want to feel it—” You grind down against him, clenching around him hard enough to make him wail. His hips stutter, overstimulated, but he doesn’t let up. You ride that line together, gasping, panting, lost in each other, and when your orgasm hits it’s in hot flashes.

Your whole body locks up, cunt spasming around him in tight, wet pulses. You nearly shout, your voice dying as you grip his hair with one hand and his shoulder with the other, as pleasure floods through you like a wave crashing against a dam. Your walls clamped around him so hard he yelped. He kept fucking you through it, crying, shaking, sobbing into your neck as you came, his body begging for release again even as yours tried to wring him dry.

He feels it, and he moans like it’s happening to him. His cock throbs again inside you—another ripple—and he sobs into your skin, whispering your name over and over like a mantra. “You’re so good,” he gasps. “You’re so perfect—I love you—I love you—I love you—”

It’s leaking out of you—his cum, creamy and warm, mixing with your slick as it drips down his dick and stains your walls, thighs, and even the sheets below. Its practically shimmering, a thick sheen coats his length and he stutters like he's in pain. ‘I’m still inside you,’ he whispers, dazed. He couldn't bear to pull out, so he kept it there.

Mark is quiet in the aftermath, and not from discomfort, but from awe. You lie tangled together on your bed, skin flushed and still sticky with sweat and cum. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, face tucked against your chest like he’s never felt this safe before. Your fingers rake gently through his damp strands, and with each slow breath, he seems to melt deeper into you.

“You okay?” you whisper against his hair. He nods, just barely. “I think I just met God,” he says, voice thick, hoarse, and exhausted. You laugh quietly to yourself as he looks up at you then, eyes still red-rimmed and glassy but glowing with affection. “Hey,” he says. “That wasn’t just... that wasn’t just sex, right?”

“Mark,” you murmur, brushing his hair back. “You cried in my arms while I rode you into another dimension. I think we passed casual like… thirty orgasms ago.” His laugh is shy, almost disbelieving, his gaze averting yours momentarily. “I meant what I said,” he adds, softer now. “I love you.”

You press a kiss to his temple. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” There’s a pause before you hear a voice, muffled against your skin. “So, uh... you think we can, like... keep doing this?” You stare at him, frowning before getting an answer. “The sex or the relationship?” His smile etches itself into your flesh. “...Both?” Your heart fluttered at his words. “Only if you cry again next time.” His groan is loud and full of mock betrayal—you’re both laughing before you kiss again, this time full of promise and with fewer tears.

A/N: This is what I get for procrastinating. LMFAO, goodnight guys. I’ll edit the color scheme tmrw. 😭

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[shina913]

Crossfade | CHS

Pairing: Chwe Hansol (Vernon) x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: S2L; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; oral (both giving/receiving); protected sex; PIV sex; dirty talk

Word count: 5k(ish) words

Summary: After a concert, you meet Hansol on a crowded train when you accidentally bump into each other. One thing leads to another, and soon you find yourself exploring his vinyl collection.

A/N: I finally put all the Vernon visuals that have been plaguing my mind for months now to good use! I'm also just really glad I got to finish this (took me long enough)! Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Your ears still rang with echoes from tonight’s concert as you boarded the train home near the arena. The car was packed and personal space became nonexistent. Despite that, the show’s excitement hadn’t worn off. Your group huddled around a single metal railing, animatedly discussing favorite moments—from surprise guests to the ever-changing encore set.

”Doors are closing,” the operator announced through the intercom. A few more concertgoers exiting the venue sprinted toward the platform, desperate to avoid a thirty-minute wait for the next train.

Mid-conversation about the show’s highlights, another group suddenly pushed into the crowded car, nearly causing you to face-plant into your friend. Just as anger flared up, you caught sight of warm, brown eyes belonging to someone behind the person who bumped you. The brown-eyed man stepped forward and offered a sincere apology for his friend’s clumsy entrance.

Time slowed, and the ringing in your ears faded as you heard him speak.

“Are you okay? Sorry, my buddy’s a bit of a klutz.” Mr. Brown Eyes shot his friend a warning look, prompting another round of apologies from him.

It took you a moment to respond. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, blinking slowly.

He turned to check on your friend whom you had stumbled into. While you struggled for words, she responded with enthusiasm: “You can run through me anytime, honey.”

Mortified, you gave her a subtle elbow nudge to shush her, but it just made her laugh more. His lips curved into a slow smile, getting a kick out of your friend’s flirty comment.

The train jerked into motion and you lost your footing again, stumbling right into him. He acted fast, circling his arm around your waist to hold you steady.

As you stood close to him, you caught a whiff of his subtle but inviting fragrance. You resisted the urge to press your nose against his skin to identify the exact scent notes of his cologne.

“Hey, are you alright there?”

Now it was your turn to stammer an apology.

“I’m…so sorry.”

He offered another smile as you regained your footing. “It’s alright. I got you.”

His eyes were like deep pools, inviting you to dive right in. If it were up to you, you’d have lost yourself in them any day—just not tonight as you heard your friends from a distance, complaining about post-concert hunger.

“I, uhm, have to get back. Thank you, though.”

A flicker of reluctance crossed his face, but he gave a polite nod and released you.

“My pleasure. Have a good night,” he said as you pulled away to rejoin your group. He returned to his friends, who stood not too far from your group.

One of your friends suggested grabbing late-night burgers and fries at a local diner a couple of stops away. Through the sound of the train car’s humming, you caught the brown-eyed stranger’s voice as he suggested the very same diner to his friends.

When the train reached the stop, your group off-boarded with him and his friends following behind.

Pushing open the diner’s door, you were greeted by a wall of sound and energy—evidently, you weren’t the only ones who craved a bite to eat after the show.

The diner had transformed into an impromptu continuation of the concert, the speakers blasting the same artist’s hits.

Your group managed to claim a booth, and just as you were settling in, you spotted him and his friends entering. They also immediately caught the infectious energy of the place, their faces lighting up with excitement.

He scanned the room for a familiar face—and though you hated to admit it, watching him search was thrilling. You lowered your menu and held his gaze, willing him to look your way. When he finally spotted you, he gave a subtle smile of acknowledgment before following his group to their table across the room.

********

After scarfing down a burger and way too many fries, the diner owner cranked up the volume, transforming the main dining area into a massive dance floor. People started moving between tables and you and your friends slid out of your booth to join the crowd, dancing and singing along.

Somewhere in the middle of this spontaneous celebration, the man from the train weaved through, making his way to you until you were standing face to face.

“Long time, no see.” There was that smile again. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, trying to contain your excitement.

“Hey.”

The music and crowd were getting louder and it became challenging to try and have an intimate conversation. He leaned into your ear, his warm breath traveling down your neck. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”

“I did. You?” You mirrored his action, tilting your head up to his ear.

He nodded, his gaze following the gentle rhythm of your hips swaying to the infectious beat of the song. The pulsing music around you gradually faded into a muffled hum as his eyes remained fixed on you, creating your own little bubble in the midst of the crowded diner.

Like déjà vu, your bubble burst when enthusiastic dancers behind him stumbled, causing him to pitch forward. Your reflexes kicked in as your hands gripped his shoulders to steady him, catching him by surprise.

He flashed a smile, mouthing both thanks and apologies. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m just happy I could return the favor,” you grinned, watching him regain his composure.

“Hope I didn’t step on your toes?”

You laughed, shaking your head no.

After a moment’s hesitation, he relaxed and decided to introduce himself. “My name’s Hansol. What’s yours?”

Unsure what to expect from this encounter, you paused. Sure, you found him attractive, but you thought tonight would be more like a one-off. Plus, the mystery kept things interesting.

You responded with a playful laugh and raised an eyebrow at him.

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “I just want to remember who I’m dancing with.”

Okay…he’s sweet. Despite your best efforts to stay cautious, you gave in. He seemed sincere, and meeting this way felt more natural than through dating apps.

You told him your name.

He repeated it carefully, testing each syllable to make sure he said it correctly. When he said it with more confidence, you nodded in approval.

“Do you like music?”

“Isn’t that kind of obvious since I went to a concert?” you teased.

His laugh at your sarcastic response made you smile—most people would have already rolled their eyes. Sensing his genuine intentions, you let your guard down a bit and pulled back on the snark. “Sorry,” you apologized. “I do—I love all kinds of music. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you see…” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I have this vinyl collection at my place.”

Your eyebrows lifted with curiosity, which he misread as concern.

“I promise that’s not some weird code for anything,” he quickly reassured you. “I just thought you might like to listen to a few records.”

You’d always found people with vinyl collections interesting. There was something about someone who takes the time to curate physical albums in this age of streamed music. What inspired them to start collecting? What stories hid behind each carefully chosen album? What kind of music shaped their taste?

You smiled and answered, “Sure, why not?”

************

“Make yourself at home,” he invited with a warm smile, stepping aside to allow you to enter first.

Hansol’s apartment looked neat, especially for a young guy who lived alone. The shoes were neatly organized in a rack by the doorway, and there weren’t any dirty dishes in the sink as you walked past the kitchen.

When you stepped into the living space, you were immediately awestruck by the breathtaking floor-to-ceiling shelves that dominated two entire walls of his living room—each one meticulously organized with vinyl records—hundreds of them!

“Can I get you anything to drink?” He called out from the kitchen. “I have beer…” he took a quick inventory of his fridge, “and water.”

“Water is fine, thanks. It’s a little late.” You found yourself drawn to his collection, moving closer to examine it. Your fingers brushed the cardboard sleeves of the albums, feeling the different textures of each one.

A glass appeared in your peripheral vision. You turned and accepted it from him.

“Have you lived here long?” You made an attempt at small talk after taking a sip.

He narrowed his eyes to think back. “About two years now, I think? I used to move around a lot because of my job.”

“Must be difficult to transport all this,” you gestured at his expansive collection.

He laughed. “You can say that. But I hire some really good movers, especially for my records. I have a lot of vintage albums and I need people who can handle them with care.”

You explored his collection some more, spotting some familiar artists and albums while discovering others you’d never encountered before. Some titles sounded obscure and indie; some limited pressings with handwritten labels that hinted at his appreciation for musical rarities beyond mainstream catalogues.

“Pick one,” he encouraged softly. “I have them organized alphabetically by artist, then chronologically by year of release.”

There was always one album that popped into your head first when you thought of records, but you wondered if he had it. You moved toward the index divider that indicated the letter of the alphabet of that artist.

You knew the album title by heart, but the exact release year escaped you—all you remembered was that it was very old.

Just as you were about to move onto a different artist, a familiar spine caught your eye. You couldn’t help but smile, pleasantly surprised to find this in his collection. Carefully, you slid the album out of the shelf and handed it to him.

His eyebrows quirked as he examined your selection, then his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Interesting choice.”

You tilted your head to one side, curiosity piqued by his cryptic comment. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “I just didn’t expect you to pick this album”

“Well, I also didn’t expect to be in a stranger’s apartment listening to records, yet here we are.” You turned and took a seat on the couch.

“Fair.”

Hansol’s audio setup was meticulous—an analog control panel with knobs and manual sliders to adjust bass, treble, and vocals. Each control featured its own illuminated meter that glowed when he powered on the system, connecting to strategically placed speakers and subwoofers throughout the room. It was an audiophile’s dream.

The moment felt almost ceremonial as he placed the record on the turntable. Once the needle glided over the record’s grooves, the typical crackling sound echoed before the first track’s opening notes emerged. Nostalgia began to trickle in.

“Any reason why you chose this one?” he asked after propping the empty album sleeve on a stand next to the player.

“It’s…kind of cheesy,” you shook your head, turning sheepish.

He settled beside you. “No, really. I’d like to know the story behind this,” he said, sounding genuinely curious.

You felt vulnerable under his gaze, but something about it made you feel safe. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Try me.”

You narrowed your eyes briefly, wondering if you should share a personal memory to this stranger you had just met.

He waited patiently, careful not to press too hard so he didn’t cross that line.

What the hell. You had sprung right for his invitation despite only a few lines of conversation between you.

You cleared your throat. “So when I was little, my grandparents used to babysit me often, and they would play this album whenever I was at their house.” Your voice softened at the memory. “They’ve been gone a while, but this album always reminds of them.”

A smile broke through his lips.

“You said you weren’t going to laugh!”

“I’m not laughing,” he insisted, his face remaining neutral.

“No, I know it’s sappy,” you groaned, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your sentimentality.

“Not at all. I think that’s really sweet. I also happen to love this album,” he confessed. “I won it from an online auction. I even got into a bidding war with somebody from some place I can’t pronounce.”

His anecdote brought a smile to your face. Then, he delved into the album’s history, explaining its conception, the intricate recording process, and how the artist crafted it as a profound declaration of love for their partner.

Maybe it was the lingering rush of endorphins from tonight’s concert, but you found yourself utterly captivated not just by the random trivia, but by the enthusiastic way he waxed poetic about it. It was as if he’d held onto all this information, only waiting for the right person to tell it to.

You turned to face him, tucking one leg beneath you while resting your elbow against the back of the sofa. Leaning your head against your palm, you gave him your full attention as he continued on.

Suddenly, he paused, realizing you hadn’t said anything in a while. “I’m sorry—I just kind of went off on a tangent there. I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I’m just listening.” You wished you had come across more people like him who were passionate enough about something, and who had dedicated so much time to studying it and understanding it enough so they could convince other people about how amazing it is.

You set your empty glass on the coffee table and shifted your position, settling back into the couch cushions. This time, you narrowed the space between you, your shoulder almost brushing against his as you leaned in.

“Digital music these days is so different. With records, you catch all these hidden gems—a spontaneous ad lib or an extra guitar riff that would’ve been edited out of modern recordings. That’s what makes them so special.”

Unable to resist your closeness, he reached across and let his fingertips skim over your forearm, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, dark eyes locked into you as he shifted closer, cupping your jaw. His face was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. You close your eyes in anticipation…and then, he was gone.

“Shit,” He jumped up as soon as he heard the track skipping, hurrying to the player to carefully lift the tone arm before it did more damage to the record. He sighed and smiled regretfully. “Gotta love vintage.”

You shrugged, “S’okay.”

He glanced at your empty glass. “Do you want a refill?”

What you’d really liked him to do was come back on the couch next to you. Before you got a chance to answer, your phone buzzed from your purse. Checking the screen, you found your friend’s caller ID flashing.

“Sorry, I need to take this.” You rushed down a hallway, away from the living room, before picking up.

Your friend was panicking when she heard your voice, asking if you were okay since you hadn’t checked in. You had a system for safety when you were out with guys—regular check-ins were the rule. This was your first time missing a text update, though she could still track your location. Speaking quietly, you reassured her that everything was fine and promised to call her once you got home—which seemed to placate her.

“Is everything okay?” Hansol asked the moment you hung up.

When you turned to face him, his tall, lean frame filled the narrow hallway as he leaned against the wall, his expression concerned. In the brief silence before you answered, you noticed music drifting through the room again—he must have flipped the record to its B-side while you were on the phone.

“Yeah. It’s just my friend checking in.” You tried to keep your voice steady despite how much his presence affected you.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, pushing off the wall to make his way toward you. “Do you have to leave?”

“I don’t have to.” The words came out softer than intended, but they made his eyes light up with interest.

His lips quirked in a small smile as he moved closer, the hallway feeling much narrower than it already was. “That’s good to hear.”

“Oh? How so?” You stayed rooted to your position, heart racing as you awaited his next move.

He drew closer until you were pressed against the wall, making it increasingly difficult to maintain coherent thoughts.

“I was hoping I could play you some more records,” his voice dropping lower. “I have some more favorites I’d love to share with you.”

“But you have so many.” Your voice wavered despite your attempt to keep it together (and spectacularly failing). “We could be here all night.”

His eyes danced with amusement as they roamed over your features. “I fail to see the problem there. Unless…you don’t want to, of course?” His voice was gentle, allowing you an easy out if you wanted to take it.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Bringing your face closer to his, you asked, “You think you can keep me entertained with your records all night?”

He brushed his nose against yours, the gentle contact sending shivers through your entire body. “I have other ways to keep you entertained, if you’re interested.”

You turned your head toward the end of the hallway, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite his proximity to you.

“What’s back there?” You jutted your chin, though you already knew the answer.

“My bedroom.”

“Ah.” You tried to sound casual, but your pulse quickened, your breath catching slightly in your throat as you swallowed hard.

“Would you...like to see it?”

“Are there more records in there?” You asked playfully, your fingers itching to touch him.

“Would you go in if I said there were?”

His face hovered inches from yours, his breath ghosting across your lips. The slight part of his mouth a silent invitation—one that tested the limits of your self-control.

So you succumbed to desire, bunching the hem of his shirt in your hand and pulling him in, eliminating what little space remained between you, sealing your mouth over his.

His fingertips skated gently down your arm until they reached your hand. Linking your fingers together and backing into the bedroom, taking you with him.

******

His bedroom was just as neat as the front room—every surface pristine and organized—though you barely had time to appreciate it before his arms captured you, his lips finding yours again.

Guiding you to the bed, he sat down and drew you between his knees, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

You peeled off his shirt, and he helped you out of yours, both of you savoring each newly exposed inch of skin.

You took a moment to admire the sight of him gazing up at you from his seated position—his bare chest rising and falling with quickened breaths, eyes filled with barely-contained eagerness and a hint of vulnerability.

Something about him felt inexplicably familiar. Despite having only met by chance, you felt a connection between you—one that felt mutual, judging by the way his lips moved against yours.

His fingers traced up your arms to your shoulders, where he slowly slipped your bra straps down, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You reached behind to undo the clasp, letting him pull the black lace fabric away.

Your breath caught when his thumb grazed your nipple. You cradled his jaw, tilting his face up to yours and sweeping your tongue across his lips. His hands rested on your hips while he trailed kisses down your abdomen. Your body arched toward him, craving more of his touch.

You eased yourself onto the mattress, straddling his thighs. Your fingers wove through his hair, angling his head just right to slot your mouth with yours.

He slowly fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him until you were pressed against his chest.

Wrapping his arms around you, he rolled you beneath him, nuzzled briefly against your throat, then moved lower. He teased your nipples with soft brushes of his lips and slow, gentle licks. You squeezed your shut, whimpered and tugged his head closer, your skin heating to his touch.

“More?” He asked as his mouth hovered over a hardened tip.

“Yes.”

He wrapped his lips around your breast, drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth. Your thighs instinctively tightened against his sides as pleasure coursed through you, your core aching with need.

He trailed downward, pausing to swirl his tongue around your navel in teasing circles. Your stomach tensed as a shaky whimper escaped your lips, making him smile against your skin.

He slid your bottoms down your legs, tossing it on the floor. Once exposed before him, he positioned your knees over his shoulders. Cupping beneath you with both hands, he lifted you to his waiting mouth. His nose pressed against the apex of your thighs as he drew his tongue slowly along your sensitive flesh. Your muscles went slack against the sheets, all traces of tension melting away.

He continued lavishing attention on your sensitive folds, drawing desperate sounds from your throat. His tongue circled your center before he wrapped his lips around it, applying light suction that made you instinctively press your legs together. His firm grip kept you spread open, completely at his mercy.

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly, making you groan and buck against his touch. You chased the sensation as he alternated between feather-light flicks of his tongue and steady strokes. Your pulse thrummed, your core tightening as you edged closer to your peak.

You exhaled sharply as your orgasm took hold, a lingering moan escaped your lips. Your thighs trembled while he slowed his fingers to draw out your pleasure, punctuating it with gentle laps against your swollen bud.

He shifted carefully from under your wobbly legs and reached over his nightstand.

While he busied himself with the condom wrapper, you seized an opportunity—sitting up and undoing his pants, pulling his boxers down until his hard length sprang free. Your mouth watered when you took his cock in your hand, pumping slowly, before lowering your lips to suck on the tip. You looked up to see him staring down at you, slack-jawed while you took him in deeper.

He craned his neck, watching your head bob up and down. When you hollowed your cheeks, he exhaled sharply, eyes squeezing shut.

His breathing became ragged, one hand on your nape while he kept the other tightly fisted on his side to maintain some semblance of control. You thrust him into your mouth repeatedly, working him fast and deep, his flesh silky against your tongue. The friction from your quickening strokes and his responding groans of appreciation sent waves of arousal through you both.

Unable to stand it any longer, when you pulled up, he broke from your hold with a wet pop.

Your feigned disappointment makes him chuckle. “I’m not coming that way,” he tutted. Cupping your chin, he gives you a chaste kiss.

You watch eagerly as he sheathes himself with a condom, then nudges your legs wider to guide his length to your entrance.

Your eyes fluttered as he eased in the first inch. He let your body set the pace, patiently waiting as your muscles stretched to accommodate him.

Peering upward, you found him flushed and bright-eyed, a sheen of sweat dotting his brow as he sank deeper with achingly slow precision. He cupped your head, holding you still while he eased down to the hilt.

Lifting his hips, he withdrew completely before sinking back in—still slow but purposeful. Your inner walls constricted, eliciting deep groans from you both. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the urge to fuck you without restraint—though you wouldn’t mind if he did.

He pressed his chest to yours and you’re mesmerized by the raw pleasure etched across his features—each furrow of his brow, every sigh that escaped from his parted lips with each downward stroke pushed you closer to the edge.

“I don’t know if I can last long. You feel...fucking amazing.” He thrust at a steady pace while peppering soft kisses along your neck.

You moaned as he sank deeper, your fingers gripping his ass while grinding your hips against him.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he said with a laugh, pausing his movements.

“I fail to see the problem there,” you say with a raised eyebrow, throwing his earlier cheeky remark back at him. “You can go harder. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, then dipped down to playfully nip at your lower lip. Suddenly, you felt empty, realizing that he’d pulled out.

Before you could protest, you were flipped on all fours, his knees spreading you wider for him.

The pounding in your clit and the needy clenching of your empty cunt drove you insane, even more when he stroked your wet folds teasingly.

Bending over you, he gasped in your ear, “Want me to fuck you hard, huh?”

“Yes, please…” you begged him.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Soon enough, he pushed back inside you, your walls clenching and drawing him deeper.

Pressing your cheek to the mattress, you angled your hips higher to meet each thrust. Your eagerness spurred his own primal need to come. He pounded into you, tears stinging your eyes from raw pleasure. Each slam of his hips delivered exactly what you’d begged for—over and over again.

Your core tensed as he thrust forward, his movements steady and rough. His breath came in harsh pants, struggling to maintain control with each deep plunge.

You reached between your legs to rub your pulsing clit, until your last shred of control dissipated.

Just like that, you shattered under him on a breathy cry, coming harder than the first time.

You were just coming down from your high when he rolled you on your back again.

He hovered over you, slotting himself between your legs. His cock parted your folds, and with how wet you were, he slid right in. Even though your core still hummed with the remnants of your orgasm, your want began to build again as soon as his lips found yours.

Suddenly, you didn’t mind the slower pace. Every stroke of his tongue in your mouth turned you on more than the slide of his cock.

Completely consumed by desire, your mouths and bodies undulated, moans and cries of pleasure echoing through his bedroom walls.

His thrusts then became more urgent, more ragged; giving up all control. He quickened his last few drives, sending him over the edge.

He grunted and held himself deep in you, pulsing with each wave of his climax washing over him. His fingers dug into your flesh—sure to leave bruises tomorrow—before he collapsed on top of you, joining you in your aftermath.

*******

The morning peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the rumpled sheets on Hansol’s bed. You stirred, stretching a hand out across—only to find the space empty. The sound of the front door shutting caught your attention, followed shortly by soft music drifting from somewhere in the apartment. Curiosity pulled you out of bed.

You found your clothes and padded your way to the kitchen, where Hansol was arranging breakfast.

“Morning,” you greeted him quietly.

He turned around, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Hey,” he said, sliding a cup of coffee your way, along with some cream and sugar. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I got everything. I also have some tea, if you’re not a coffee person.”

“No, no—I love coffee, thank you,” you said as you settled on a seat by the counter. You reached for the cup and added your cream and sugar. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, rounding the corner to take the seat next to you. He pushed a plate in your direction, piled with still-warm croissants and muffins. “These are really good, if I say so myself. The bakery down the street makes them fresh every day.”

You thanked him again and helped yourself to a pastry. “So…you do this often?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

“You mean eat breakfast?”

You laughed softly at his remark, then clarified, “No. I mean—invite strangers to your place, play them records…sweep them off their feet?”

Suddenly flustered, he shook his head. “Never. I don’t really do this kind of thing. But for some reason, last night felt...different.” His eyes met yours in earnest. “Different in a good way,” he added softly.

You hid your smile behind your coffee cup, feeling a flutter in your chest at his response.

The record player spun quietly in the background, filling the comfortable silence between you.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks slowly.

“No, why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to stay a little longer. Or if not, maybe we could go on a proper date sometime—one that doesn’t start with a record and end with our clothes on my floor?”

He watched as you took a slow sip of your coffee. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you considered his offer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His whole face lit up. “Yeah?”

You nod.

“Great,” he said, with a quiet enthusiasm that made you feel like you just made his entire day.

“Although—I would like to go home for a bit and freshen up, maybe grab a change of clothes.” You gestured at your outfit from the night before. You weren’t exactly dressed for a full day out. “But after that, I’m all yours for whatever you have in mind?”

“Oh, of course! I can drive you home whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush,” he offered.

You nodded and smiled, already feeling excited about the possibilities the day might hold.

“Also, just so you know—”

He glanced up from his coffee cup, curious.

“I don’t mind doing the rest of the stuff after, too. You know, if you’re up to it,” you said casually.

He gave you a knowing smile before he took a sip. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

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