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ugh-yoongi · 12 days

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ex-conomics | csc

you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3

You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.

“Um—”

You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”

“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”

Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.

TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)

You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.

That, however, was two years ago.

“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”

Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”

“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”

You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”

Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”

The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”

You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”

“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”

“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.

But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”

You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.

You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.

You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.

You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.

You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.

You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.

You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.

So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.

“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”

For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.

A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.

But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.

Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.

You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.

Your stomach plummets to the floor.

You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.

��Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.

Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.

The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.

“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”

Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”

She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”

“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”

She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”

You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”

“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”

Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”

Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.

You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”

“And continued wearing it?”

She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”

Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.

So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”

“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”

“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”

Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”

You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.

Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.

“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”

The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.

“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”

She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:

doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄

You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”

“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”

You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.

You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.

And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.

But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.

They never do.

And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.

“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

This time it is an accusation.

Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.

You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.

Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.

Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.

You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.

“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”

You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.

“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”

But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.

“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”

And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.

You cannot go there again.

So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”

Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.

You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.

Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”

He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.

But you did, so it stings all the same.

As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.

You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.

Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.

Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.

He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.

Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”

“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”

“Depends. How long do you have?”

“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”

“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”

You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”

He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”

“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”

You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”

“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”

Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.

And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.

Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.

“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”

He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”

“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.

You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.

You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.

He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—

“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”

“At this university?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”

Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.

“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”

Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.

So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.

Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.

But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.

You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.

Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.

The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.

“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”

He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”

“Oh—yeah, right.”

You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.

You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.

I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.

Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.

But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.

So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.

“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”

“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”

You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”

She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.

The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.

“Not bad, actually.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.

“Can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”

You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”

He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”

You blink. “No, you didn’t.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”

What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.

“They want to know about his girlfriend.”

“His what?”

What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.

But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.

You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.

Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.

“What’s wrong?”

Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.

What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”

Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”

“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”

“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”

“Seungcheol,” you correct.

He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.

They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.

Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?

Seungcheol shared a location with you

You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.

You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.

Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.

Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.

“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”

“Oh. How’s he doing?”

Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”

“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”

You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.

“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”

You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”

Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.

The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.

He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…

It’s the familiarity, you realize.

You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.

“That’s not what I’m say—”

“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”

“Right—not good enough, like I said.”

“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”

“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”

You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.

So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.

The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.

Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.

Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.

Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.

“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.

Also fruitless.

You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.

And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“If you’re not going to listen, then—”

“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.

Perhaps he never did.

“What are we discussing, then?”

Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”

You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”

It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.

“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”

He nods.

“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”

The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.

So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.

Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.

Kaori invites you to a party.

Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.

After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.

So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.

At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.

You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.

You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.

You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.

You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.

Seungcheol finds you in your office.

It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.

So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.

“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”

He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”

“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”

You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.

So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.

But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.

Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.

Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.

“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.

You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.

Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.

Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Again.

Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.

She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.

Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.

And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”

Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”

“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”

She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”

“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”

You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”

“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”

A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.

Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.

You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.

Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?

Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.

Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?

Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.

You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.

L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.

You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.

So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.

She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.

“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”

Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”

You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”

She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”

“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”

You do.

Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.

It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.

The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.

There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.

You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.

(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)

One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.

Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.

Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.

You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.

“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”

Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”

Cut to black.

The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…

I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…

You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.

I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?

I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.

So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…

I’m sorry.

I love you.

You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.

The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.

“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”

On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”

“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”

She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”

“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”

After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.

The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.

Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.

You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…

And start recording.

He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.

There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?

He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…

Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?

It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—

And then there it was.

All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—

Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.

I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.

I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.

Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.

Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.

You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.

Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.

I love you, too.

—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.

Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.

There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.

He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”

“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.

There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.

Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.

Somehow you taste the same.

Somehow you taste like redemption.

You taste like home.

Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.

When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—

And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.

“I always will.”

(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol au #scoups angst #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #jewel writes

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hazelfoureyes · 7 months

Text

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

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helaintoloki · 1 month

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hello, I would like to make a request, a story based on the last episode of yours, Five talking to another Five in the final conversation and they talk about his wife and Canon Five doesn't have one, thanks if you want

a/n: i absolutely loved writing this ty for sending this in ! <3

warnings: language, slight angst, spoilers

summary: Five discovers his missing piece

When Five stumbled into Max’s and came across an entire diner full of alternate versions of himself, about a million different questions raced through his mind. However, the most pressing issue he found himself wanting to address was the context behind the lovingly placed portrait of a woman on the wall.

“Who’s the girl?” He asks his counterpart, his eyes remaining glued to the painting. The woman’s smile was gentle, her eyes kind, and her face the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He almost felt drawn to it in a way, as if there was some type of magnetic pull gravitating his focus to her and only her. It was like seeing a ghost or a familiar face from a dream that you’re not quite able to place.

“Don’t you recognize her?” The other Five retorts perplexed, confusion clearly etched on his features. “That’s y/n.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” the Boy confesses with an apologetic sigh as he finally pulls his attention away from the painting and sets it back to the Five in front of him.

“No wonder you’re such a mess,” server Five notes with a diverted smile as he tops off their coffee. Calling over his shoulder, he announces to all Fives, “The poor bastard doesn’t have a y/n.”

Murmurs of surprise and astonished laughter fill the cafe at the news, prompting Five’s face to heat in embarrassment at being the butt of a joke he has no grasp of. What do these Fives know that he doesn’t?

“Could you please be so kind as to fill me in on who this y/n is,” he requests agitatedly through gritted teeth. Reaching into his pocket, his counterpart pulls out a weathered photograph and slides it across the table for Five to see.

“Y/n is the missing piece that completes every Five. We all meet her in different ways at different points of our lives, but every time she manages to anchor us back down to earth. Y/n is the glue that holds us together when everything goes to shit. She believes in us, sees the humanity in us despite the horrors we’ve seen and the atrocities we’ve committed. She gives us unconditional love even when we think we don’t need it, when we think it couldn’t possibly exist.”

As Fives look down at the photo before him, he sees himself- or rather, another version of himself- enveloping y/n in his arms. They stand in front of a beautiful home with a picket white fence and a garden full of flowers smiling with pure bliss. It’s clear that the woman loved this version of him by the adoring look in her eyes, and it’s even clearer that she meant everything to the Five sitting across from him.

“She means something different to each of us, but I was one of the Five’s lucky enough to make her my wife,” his companion notes with an evocative smile. “That photo was taken on our honeymoon.

“Where is she now?” Five asks somberly after handing back the photograph.

“Dead,” he replies quietly, releasing a mournful sigh as he sinks back into the booth. “Lost her in an accident while I was trying to stop the apocalypse for a third time. That’s when I decided it was time to hang in the towel.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“We had a good run together, I wouldn’t change any of it,” the replica admits with a reminiscent smile. He takes another look at the photo, committing it to memory before handing it back to Five. “I think you need this more than I do. You may not have had the chance to know your y/n, but judging by the look on your face when you spotted the portrait I have a good feeling you would have loved her just the same.”

Gingerly taking the photograph back, Five stops to admire her gentle features and adoring smile before tucking it safely into the pocket of his suit. “Thank you.”

“You know what you have to do to fix the timelines,” the other Five firmly instructs him. “Just promise me you’ll do by right by my wife. She deserves a safe timeline to live in, one where she can grow old and be happy.”

Rising from his seat at the booth, Five takes one last longing look at the portrait on the wall before returning his gaze to the boy in front of him.

“You have my word.”

#request #the umbrella academy #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #number five x reader #number five imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #tua spoilers

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hoshigray · 5 months

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hey love can i request brothers bff cho and how he's just down bad for you 🤍🤍🤍

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg wait, i fucks with this baddd

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m!) - oral (m! receiving) - tit/breast fucking (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (baby, darling, honey, sweetie) - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - implied that reader is big chested - Choso crushing on you hard, lmao - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

Choso knew better than to be attracted to you, the sibling of his best friend ever.

Your brother and Choso have been buddies for a while, meeting during his part-time job at a burger joint as servers and finding out they have so much in common. Being older siblings, lovers of rock music, and relating to so much together, the two often hung out after work and became pretty good friends. Just two people vibing out in each others’ company, and there was nothing to make this relationship complicated!

“Hey, Choso, I’ve told you about my sister before, right?”

You greeted him with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Choso!”

Well, that is until you came and absolutely rocked Choso’s world.

You were the younger sibling of two; a college senior comes home biweekly to take care of laundry and then drives back up for your education. By your gorgeous face and alluring figure, Choso was struck by your image from the first time his eyes ever laid on you. You were such a kind spirit, always so sweet to him and others surrounding you — you’d want to hang with the boys whenever you had the chance while you were visiting, which was hellish for the brown-haired man.

You’d laugh along with the jokes, making Choso’s heart skip uncontrollably, and the way you’d lean to him when you’re sleepy watching a movie with them pushed the guy on the verge of shutting down. He could never get tired of how you’d say his name; it came out so dear from your lips as if he could be under your spell at any second. And it didn’t help that you’d walk around the house with shorts on, the lower fringes constantly threatening Choso on whether they’d creep up to see the mere crevice of your ass.

As said before, he knew better than siblings of best friends were off limits. However, you were becoming too much for him. It’s been half a year of seeing you, and there has never been a day or night where you haven’t popped up in his head one way or another, particularly when his mind would think of you in the most…lustful ways.

He throws his head back, reminiscing about you and your outfit from the pub. The way your breasts were tucked in nicely by the window of your bodycon dress, yet the cleavage was too tempting for his eyes not to notice. The dress sculpted your curves dangerously, Choso fighting the urge to put his hand on your hip to feel your clothed skin. And your lipgloss made your lips shine; every time you spoke to him was a test for him not to kiss you right there in front of your brother. It was so cruel how you looked so good for him!

He was spending the night at yours after a night out drinking with you and your brother, using the basement bedroom to sleep. Sleep evades him; however, he uses this space to deal with the erection he’s been dying to indulge in this entire night instead. His teeth pull the bottom of his shirt, dark jeans discarded to the floor, and his hand pumps his shaft that’s freed from his boxer briefs.

He grunts at the memory, teeth grinding while he strokes his long cock. Precum exuding from the urethra slides down to the base and wets his fingers. “Fuuck, Y/n,” your name is said in choked moans, the horny man fisting himself in a faster motion. Brown eyebrows are trenched, and his abdomen begins to flex. Shit, I’m so close, so cl—

“Choso?”

He never in his life froze still in an instant, and his heart goes to a complete stop, too. No way.

“Ca–…May I come in?”

No words are said from either side, so Choso’s heat immediately shifts to icy cold when he hears the door open, and your frame is all he sees. You’re still wearing the beautiful dress, yet your face is molded into an expression of utter anxiousness. Sweat goes down Choso’s forehead, oh fucking shit!

“I came down to see if you were okay and needed anything,” your eyes were downcast to the floor, chewing on your lips during this awkward situation. “But…I heard you say my name and…”

Oh, it was so over for him. All Choso could do was stare at you in dread, entirely shocked that you saw him masturbate at the thought of you! You were fidgeting with your dress, perplexed about how to handle this predicament, too. He was so done for; not only was he thinking of you, the sibling of his best friend, and using said thoughts of you, but now you are aware of how he pictures you in his fucked up head! Yup, he can never walk into this house again. “S–Sorry, Y/n! I’ll just go and—“

“Can I help?”

Again, his body goes rigid mid-stride of getting off the bed after pulling his underwear up. ….What?

“I mean, can I…help you with that?” You meekly walk into the room and close the door behind you. “I am the one who made you like this, so…I’m okay with it if you are…..”

Choso blinks, too alarmed to make any movements. “But, your brother…” You’re quiet for a few seconds before you spook him by taking steps in his direction. He gulps thickly when your figure crawls on the bed, too close for his brain to comprehend. You take his hand with your soft ones and bring his fingers to your lips to kiss, and his breath hitches when you suck and lick his digits. The boner stuffed in his briefs twitches at the sensation of your tongue running against the underside of his middle finger and sucking on it.

You peer at him, “What about him?” That is what you say before lifting your dress to remove your panties. And just when Choso thought his life was about to be thrown in the gutter, you flipped the script on him again.

In his head, Choso knew he shouldn’t be doing this.

“Mmm…Mmahh! Oh, Choso, you taste so good…”

But in his heart, he couldn’t help but give in to this situation.

You were situated between his legs, ripped him off his briefs for you to suck on his glans freely. Your tinge dances around his cockhead to prompt more come to ooze out of his urethra, and your hand slides up and down to stroke his member. Choso whimpers under your touch, and shivers crawl up his spine as you lick from the base to the tip before sucking hard.

“Fuuck, Y/n,” he grips the sheets, barely containing his hips to buck to your lips. “Your mouth, it’s—Hssshh…!”

“Mmm?” You blink before releasing the tip with a sound. “What about my mouth, Choso baby?” Fuck, the nickname made the pink of his ears creep down to his nape. “You feel good?” He nods at your question, and you giggle before sucking one of his balls, resulting in a sharp gasp from the brown-haired man. “I’m so happy you are…”

Hallow cheeks take in his cock, busying your throat with his length that has you humming blissfully. You massage his waist as you bob your face up and down, and shaky breaths leave his lips while his legs jolt with every swish of your tongue.

“—Shhiiit, oh shit, hnnn,” he can’t do it, you were driving him crazy. “Y/n, you’re gonna make me…Mmmm”

You pick up on his cue, withdrawing your lips from him to maneuver and pull down the top of your dress. Caramel eyes widen at the sight of your breast spilling out, forgetting how to breathe when you bring them to wrap around his long dick. You move them around to please him, taking the tip back into your mouth to slurp his leaking essence that trickles down to your chest.

“Mmaahh, go ahead, darling,” you place kisses on the tip, Choso looking at nothing but your mounds swallow him with every stroke. It takes mere seconds for his orgasm to sneak up on him, his jizz coming out to fall and trickle down in between the rifts of your tits. “There you go, let it out for me…” the way you looked at him with half-lidded eyes took his breath away, especially with the spit that connects your gloss-shining lips to his spit-and-come coated shaft.

And when he’s finally inside you? He’s too far gone to even think of being away from you.

“Ohhh, hoooh!! Chosooo, y’u feel soo good!”

Your dress was cast-off entirely, your nude body bouching up and down on Choso, his cock bullying the inside of your cunt. It’s been a solid fifteen minutes shared between the two of you exploring each other’s bodies, and sweaty skin exchanges heat from the constant motions. And come from rounds prior spill from your chasm as you ride on Choso’s dick with a rhythm.

He has his hands on your hips now, using you to keep him steady before he gets too lost in the feeling. Not that it hasn’t happened already; the man moans with every clamp of your walls around him, tightening around him with every graze of your g-spot. You wail for him up top, and your aroused sounds have to be the cutest things he’s ever heard. And the way your tits jump every time you plummet down to the base of him, it’s an image that will haunt him for the rest of his days.

“Tahhh, ughh, Jesus Christ…” He’s too sensitive right now; he just came not too long ago and is now being chased down for another one. “Y/n, sweetie, too fast, slow d—Ahh…!”

You hear him and titter, “Yeah? Want me to slow down, huh…” You bring your hips up excruciatingly slow, listening intently to the shaky sobs from the brunette as you get to the very top. And then you smack yourself down with haste, sharing a yelp at the rushed sensation. You do it again, “Think you’re about to cum again, huh, honey?”

His hands now come to your ass to grope with the flesh, and you twitch around his girth at the hunger. “Yeahhh…”

“You gonna be good and cum for me again, right?” Another snap of your ass crashing down on him.

“Yess, baby,” he throws his head back to the pillows, his head pounding so hard it could kill him. You can feel him pulsating within your slit. “Almost there…Ohh–ooo..!”

You bite your lip, relishing at the sight of him being desperate for release. You lean forward to him, your breasts meshing with his chest as you snake a hand around the back of his head. You place your lips on his, and he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

The kiss gets hotter when you dial up the speed, tongues swirling and exchanging spit as the friction becomes a lot more pleasurable than before. Choso’s ears ring the deeper you bring him in to kiss, humming on his tongue as you suck on it with harsh rocks on his length from scraping places you couldn’t reach. He’s so fucking addicted to you; his composure long deteriorated the moment he first put his cock inside you.

Choso bucks himself to you in sync, his climax coming in just a few ruts. He howls into you, and you wail along as your hips don’t rest until you’re hit with a crescendo of your own. Contracting your vaginal walls milks him, exerting his load into you again to spill and flow down your sticky frames.

You two heave and pant in each other’s mouth before the kiss is broken, and the string of saliva is evidence of you being one with the other. Although the both of you are dazed, you smile at him before kissing his nose. “Glad I helped you out, huh?” He chuckles weakly as you lay kisses on his chin.

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

And just like that, the two of you are frozen yet again. Wait…

Too late, the bedroom door busts open with a bang, and in comes your brother!

“Yooo, Choso, my guy—hic,” your brother stumbles inside the room, still a bit loopy and drunk. “Wanna go up and hit a quick blunt with— ah…”

The heat shared between you and the man below you switched to silent torture, awkwardness suffocating the three figures staring at each other. And this is the exact reason why Choso should’ve known better than to mingle around with you…

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peachpitfics · 4 months

Text

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about – it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you.

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

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Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton smut #x fem!reader #request #fanfiction #fanfic #anon #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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shepscapades · 4 months

Text

7. Lincolnshire Posy: II. — Composed by Percy Grainger, Performed by the Dallas Wind Symphony

It’s been on my mind lately that I had a lot of these Spotify song requests that I finished and never got around to posting, so I’m gonna try to chip away at posting these over the next few weeks! BUT Hi Ghost :] It’s so funny this was the song you ended up getting the number for; I had actually listened to it on loop during the deepest trenches of ranchers brainrot however many months ago, so I’m really happy I ended up being able to draw something for them!! <3 This is also the part where I expose myself for being an unashamed band kid =w= Grainger’s one of my favorite composers, so I listen to his works a lot and couldn’t help associating the really soft hopeful horns with this kind of healing period for the ranchers ;w;

I probably won’t ever really go into the details of the m-1 server’s overall plot, but I think the general vibe for m-1 ranchers is that these little moments of soft sunlight and healing bones were some of the most needed for them, so that’s why scenes like this always stand out in my mind <3 Context aside though, I think m-1 ranchers are just super sweet so!! figured I’d Full-Send share this soft doodle of them :]

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signedkoko · 7 months

Note

HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???

Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

-🐚

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.

When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed

You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face

It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow

You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way

He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord

Truly a shame

You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged

Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort

But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you

You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice

The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you

Something about it was so familiar

J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R

When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing

Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device

Unless you did it just for him?

R-K-J-E-R-K-J

" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "

Y-O-U

Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk

And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method

One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display

Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw

" COMATOSE. "

You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious

Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!

But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel

He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that

Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them

Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before

But he'd never heard of something like yours

Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle

You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved

Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures

After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!

While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you

From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction

Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled

He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear

But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with

Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to

Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of

Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites

The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you

But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats

" Silence. "

From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking

The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left

Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!

Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?

YOUR POWERS DID THAT???

He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too

Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #vox #vox x reader

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eroselless · 1 month

Text

─────────────── somebody else // 1

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist

warnings: insecure reader

note: thank you to the anon that requested this! i absolutely loved writing this. although the anon didn’t specify if they wanted this as a multi-partner, i feel like i wouldn’t be able to do it justice with just one part. i tried my best to make this a little bit of a slow burn without dragging it out too much. happy reading!

The hum of the engines reverberates through the paddock as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. It casts long shadows over the track, the sky painted in soft pinks and purples. You huff as you move around the backroom, not yet used to the fast-paced world of Formula 1, the chaos that comes with each race still new to you. You’ve been working as part of the McLaren hospitality team for a few weeks now, moving from city to city, country to country as the season unfolds quickly. It is a demanding job, with long hours and high expectations, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You were introduced to the sport later in life, in your late teens. Your father had been involved in karting, often taking you to his races, but he had never considered going any further. You had grown accustomed to the roar of the cars, the smell of burning rubber, the palpable tension in the air – it became intoxicating, thrilling, and nerve-wracking. You had slowly pushed yourself to become more involved, snagging a job that you had anticipated for a long time. Working in F1, even just in hospitality, was a dream that could open doors for you.

Like any other race weekend, you are on your feet from sun up till sun down. You ensure that everything runs smoothly for all the guests that come and go in the McLaren suite. You move through the crowds with a practiced grace, offering smiles and the most attentive service to VIPs, sponsors, and team members alike.

You reach over the table, pouring out champagne to a group of executives, feeling a tinge on the back of your neck. Glancing up, you can feel someone’s eyes trained on you. There is a rush of chatter, a group of young children, all dressed in matching orange attire.

You see Lando standing among them, a smile on his face as he speaks to them. His eyes flicker up to you, attention divided as he tries his best to keep track of what a young boy is telling him and watching you move around the room.

It becomes harder to ignore as the day drags on, his gaze following you whenever he comes in and out of the suite. You try to think nothing of it; you are one of a handful of servers, you would be noticed, of course. It is nothing, right?

“Need a hand with that?”

The sound of Lando’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, startling you slightly. You turn from your spot at the bar, a tray of empty glasses in your hands, ready to be sent to the kitchen for washing. He leans casually on the counter, fingers fiddling with a homemade bracelet he undoubtedly got from a fan. There’s a twinkle in his eyes, a familiar and warm glint you’d only ever seen from afar. He gestures to the other tray that sits on the bar, equally as full as the one you’re carrying, a lopsided grin on his face.

Forcing a smile, you try your best to push down the flutter in your chest. “I think I can manage, thanks.”

Lando leans in slightly, his voice low. “I’m sure you can, but it never hurts to have a little help, right?”

His close proximity makes your stomach burst with butterflies, but you keep your composure. You shift one tray in your hands, holding up one before grabbing the other one and balancing it on your fingers. “I appreciate the offer, really, but you’ve got a race to focus on. Can't have you getting distracted.”

“Maybe I like distractions,” he quips, his gaze following you as you begin to move away from the bar. He meets your eyes as he raises his eyebrows. “Plus, I’m pretty good at multitasking—driving fast and helping with drinks. Can’t be that different, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back the smile that threatens to pop out. You shake your head as you take another step, breaking away from his stare. “I’ll keep that in mind when I see you out on track.”

He chuckles, his laugh warm and genuine. “You do that. And I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

With that, he saunters off, leaving you standing there slightly confused and trying to process what had just happened. As you watch him go, he turns back slightly to give you another smile and a nod before exiting through the front doors. You can’t help but feel lightheaded as you make your way to the kitchen, biting your lip as you do. Jesus Christ, what was that?

The rest of the day passes in a blur of activity, the memory of Lando’s casual smile lingering in your mind. It doesn’t leave your thoughts as you continue to run into him at the next few races. He pops in before the day descends into full chaos to see how you’re doing and checks on you at the end of the day, always ready with something to make you feel lighter on a stressful race day.

You find yourself expecting his presence, your banter becoming a regular part of your day, a little slice of normalcy in the otherwise hectic and fast-paced environment. He teases you about your work, making light-hearted comments about how serious you’ve become or how you’re in the know about everyone’s gossip. He pulls you into hugs or gives your nose or cheeks a gentle pinch whenever he gets the chance. In return, you tease him about his racing, jokingly offering tips on how to handle certain corners or shave a couple of seconds off his lap times.

One afternoon, he slides into an empty seat, panting as he sinks into the chair. “Hey, you,” he greets, pulling his hat off and placing it on the table in front of you. “Busy day?”

“You could say that,” you reply, glancing up from your work. “How about you? Surviving the media circus?”

“Barely,” he jokes, rolling his eyes. “But it’s all part of the job, right?”

You nod, smiling. “I guess so. You seem to handle it well, though.”

He shrugs, that easy grin still in place. “It’s all about keeping a cool head. Speaking of which, how about you? How are you handling everything?”

“Me?” you question. “I’m just trying to keep up.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” he says, his tone sincere. “Seriously, everyone’s noticed how well you’ve fit in around here.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment, and you duck your head, suddenly interested in a spot that won’t come off a spoon. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

There’s a brief silence, the kind that’s beginning to feel familiar between the two of you—comfortable, yet charged with something unspoken. You can feel his eyes on you, observing your gentle movements. When you finally look up, he’s still watching you, a tranquil expression on his face. It makes your heart skip a beat, his blue-green eyes almost admiring you.

“So, what are your plans after this?” he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, trying to keep your tone light, not wanting to reveal that his gaze is melting your resolve. “Maybe just relax, take in the sights. I haven’t really explored much outside of work.”

His smile widens. “Well, if you ever need a tour guide, you know where to find me.”

You laugh, gratefully nodding at him, but your mind races with possibilities you quickly shove away.

It’s not until the next race weekend that you see him again. You’re busy arranging the seating in the hospitality suite when you feel a presence behind you, followed by the gentle sound of cutlery clinking. Before you can turn around, Lando’s voice drifts over your shoulder.

"Straighten up those forks, will you? We wouldn’t want our guests to think we’re unprofessional."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as your fingers move to adjust the silverware he’d nudged out of place. "I’m pretty sure they’re here for the racing, not the table settings."

"Well, if the racing doesn’t impress them, maybe your impeccable attention to detail will," Lando teases, leaning against the back of a chair as he watches you continue to move things around.

You turn to face him, a hand on your hip while the other twists a rag you’ve been using to wipe down the tables. A smile tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze. "And what about you? Do you think my attention to detail is impressive?"

Lando’s smile widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh yeah, I think you’re impressive, full stop."

You shake your head, looking down at a box full of cutlery rolls, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris."

"Who said anything about flattery?" he retorts, his tone light but sincere. "I’m just stating the facts."

"Facts, huh?" you glance over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. "What other facts do you have for me?"

Lando pretends to think for a moment, leaning back in his chair. "Well, let’s see… You’re always the first one here in the morning and the last to leave at night. You keep calm under pressure, even when the kitchen’s on fire—literally. And you have this little tick when you smile—which, by the way, you don’t do enough—you look away or cover your laugh with your hands."

His words catch you off guard, and you pause, unsure of how to respond. You'd grown used to his teasing, but this felt different. He rambles a little as if he can’t get the words out fast enough. It could mean anything, but your mind refuses to acknowledge that it might be more than platonic teasing. You hear the sincerity behind his words, and it makes your heart race slightly, in a way that is both exciting and terrifying.

You quickly mask your uncertainty with a playful roll of your eyes. "And you’ve been keeping track of all this?"

"Maybe," Lando admits, not backing down. His smile softens as he watches you closely, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes.

Before you can respond, the sound of approaching footsteps breaks the moment, and you’re both reminded of where you are. A group of VIP guests enters the room, and you immediately slip back into work mode, offering them a warm smile as you direct them to their seats.

Lando lingers for a moment, his gaze lingering on you before he too slips away, back into the bustle of race day.

Your casual banter continues throughout the day and as the weeks pass. But the more time you spend around Lando, the stronger the urge to pull away becomes. He is so easy to talk to, so genuine in his interactions, but you can’t shake the feeling that you might be reading into things too much. A voice in the back of your mind keeps reminding you of the reality of your situation. He’s Lando Norris—a world-famous racing driver, adored by millions, with the world at his feet. You never doubt your skills, but you are just a hospitality worker, a coworker who happened to become a friend. Just a friend, right?

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few races later, after a hectic race, the team gathers for a small celebration. Both Lando and Oscar had performed well, amplifying the mood around the whole paddock. You're busy fixing drinks and chatting with guests, your thoughts still drifting back to Lando. You feel your heart flutter every time you catch a glimpse of him, whether he is laughing with Oscar or signing autographs for fans that are brought in. You have no doubt that he is an attractive person and are determined not to let your feelings grow further than they already have, but every touch, every brush of his fingers, or his hand on your back, sends your mind spiraling. Could you be seeing something that isn’t there? Is he just being overly friendly now that you have established a connection?

The questions swirl endlessly in your head as the evening wears on, and by the time the celebration winds down, you feel overwhelmed. Stepping outside for fresh air, you find a quiet spot on the balcony overlooking the track. You let out a sigh as you sit down on the ledge. You lean your head back on the wall, trying to clear your head. Your eyes water up a little as you let yourself relax, but you are quick to wipe them away when you hear footsteps approaching.

Turning, you spot Lando. His hands are shoved in his pockets, a gentle smile adorning his lips.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice soft.

“Of course not,” you say, shifting over a little to make room for him. He sits down next to you, a sliver of space between your two bodies. You sit in silence, the night air filled with the distant sounds of the paddock winding down. You can feel warmth radiating from him, a familiar tension beginning to crackle between you. It is a comfortable silence, weighted down by so many questions and unspoken words.

“Tonight was fun,” Lando speaks up after a while, his tone relaxed. “The team did great.”

You hum in agreement. “Yeah, it was a good day,” you say, glancing over at him. “You did great.”

He smiles, a soft, almost shy smile. It's a smile you have grown used to, always paired with rosy cheeks and a bashful look in his eyes. Your heart betrays you as it flutters in your chest. “Thanks. But I couldn’t have done it without the support of the team—including you.”

You smile, turning away instinctively, suddenly aware of the tick he had pointed out just a few weeks ago. “I’m just in hospitality, doing my job.”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “but you do it well. I’ve noticed how hard you work, how much you care about what you do. It’s one of the things I like about you.” He leans back on his hands, watching as you search for what to say.

The words hang in the air, heavy with something you don’t want to acknowledge. The voice in your head speaks again, denying, denying, denying. He’s just being kind, nothing else.

“I—thank you,” you stammer, trying to keep your voice steady. “That means a lot coming from you.”

He looks at you then, really looking at you. His eyes are hooded, eyebrows drawn together slightly. It’s as if he can see right through the defenses you’ve been trying to keep up. There’s something in the way his eyes peer out at you, a vulnerability that seems to mirror yours. There it is again, the nerves and the ache in your chest.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says softly. “I just wanted you to know.”

There is a beat of silence, and before you can respond, the doors open behind you. Your name is called, and you are quickly pulled back, retreating into the safety of professionalism. You’re needed inside.

“I should get back,” you say hastily, blinking the haze out of your eyes. “There’s still a lot to do.”

Lando clears his throat, sitting up, his expression unreadable. His voice is now deflated. “Yeah, of course.”

As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare look back. There are so many emotions swirling in your mind—confusion, longing, and an ever-growing sense of fear. You want so badly to let yourself believe that there could be something growing between you, but there will always be doubts rearing their ugly heads. There will always be whispers telling you that it is all in your head, that you are only setting yourself up for disappointment. As soon as you pass the glass door, you let out a deep breath, a knot forming in your throat.

a/n: thank you so much if you’ve made it to the end! i am already in the process of writing the next part so it should be out soon! any feedback, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, i love seeing your reactions and notes!

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic

614 notes · View notes

lustspren · 9 months

Text

Cool With You ft Danielle.

length: 12.8k words✦

Danielle & Male Reader

genres: cheesy/bit cringe lmao (i’m so sorry, it was necessary for the plot, I promise), fluffy, oral sex, hard sex, facetime sex, creampie, blowjob, anal

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Girls, I think you should at least play the game if we're going to do this," Hanni said, sitting on the couch, "I mean, Riot hired us for this, and I think it would be appropriate."

Danielle immediately turned to look at Hanni, not wanting to say anything yet as she was turning the idea over in her head. Being from Australia she never grew up with that game, but she knew perfectly well that there in Korea it was a national phenomenon, and that they even had their own exclusive server. Part of this reputation around the video game was due to Faker, a player that anyone under 30 years old knew either by name or by sight. She wasn't exactly a fan of multiplayer video games, or even video games in general since she was an outdoors girl, so she kept quiet at first.

"And where are we supposed to do that?" Minji asked, eating some Pringles, "there are only two computers at home."

"Oh come on, we can ask for three more!" Hanni exclaimed, "I think we deserve it, don't we?"

"Well, I'll see what I can do," Minji sighed, and then looked at the others, "are you all in?"

"I wouldn't mind," Kitten said, shrugging.

"Yeah! It'll be fun!" Big Baby agreed, "what do you say, Dani?" They all looked at her.

"Ugh, do I really have to?" Danielle asked, not very attracted to the idea but not completely against it either. She liked spending time with her unnies, no matter what way.

"Oh come on! Pleeeaaaase!" Hanni pleaded with her hands clasped in request, "I promise you'll like it!" Dani made a small silence, looking at all of them.

"My god, fine!" she finally accepted, "but I demand your patience with me, okay? I can count on one hand the number of times I have touched a computer in my life."

"Yaaaaay!" Hanni clapped excitedly, "don't worry, it's very easy!"

4 days later. NewJeans girls already recorded Gods.

"Alright girls, I'll go to the top lane," Hanni said in front of the computer. All the others were sitting on their own, one next to the other, "Minji, you should go jungle, it's a selfish and arrogant role, just like you!"

"Then it's perfect, yes," Minji nodded.

"Big Baby, you go to the mid lane, there are champions that could be a lot of fun for you, and you would be a fundamental piece," Hanni told her, and she nodded.

"As for you two," Hanni looked at Dani and Kitten, "you are literally the perfect duo, I don't really know who should go ADC or who should go support, discuss it between yourselves."

"Well, support sounds like the easiest," Dani said, looking at Kitten, who always seemed indifferent to anything.

"Does that mean I'm in charge?" she asked, looking at the screen.

"I don't want to be, so yeah," Dani shrugged, and at that moment Hanni hit the find match button.

As was common for people new to League of Legends, Dani was completely overwhelmed and stressed by the huge amount of things that the game's tutorial never explains to you. Lots of different champions, runes, objectives, farming, crucial areas of the map, etc. Her head was hurting, but after a few games she started to feel more comfortable with her role, and she was especially prone to playing Leona.

At first, Dani only accepted the proposal because she did not like to contradict and argue over something like that. In fact, she considered Hanni's idea somewhat unnecessary and would not be at all transcendental in her life. But the unthinkable happened for her. She began to enjoy the game, and even played it during her free time. She usually always did it with Kitten, but many times she also did it alone. The most attractive thing for her was the anonymity that the game provided her, there no one treated her differently because of who she was, many insulted her, others treated her disrespectfully, and despite not being pleasant, she liked that, it was like a way to put her feet on the ground while having fun.

Months had passed since they recorded Gods, and the group continued on their journey of activities here and there, always busy and always in the public eye, but Dani never stopped playing, she even dedicated herself to watching the start of the Worlds, and especially rooting for T1 and the Korean teams.

When the final phase of the Worlds was approaching and the girls were preparing for their stage during the opening ceremony, they were informed that the day before there would be an event where celebrities and fans were going to be able to have a kind of meet & greet with fun activities involved. It was explained to them that one of the activities consisted of playing games with mixed teams of celebrities and idols, and they all immediately accepted the idea.

--------------------------------------------

You almost lost your shit when you got that damn email. You were jumping around like an idiot all over your room, dancing to the rhythm of a goofy ass techno song that just happened to be playing on your Spotify. You had won the fucking sweepstake to play in the celebrity matches, and there was no way you were going to take it in at that moment.

When your euphoria passed you sat down in your desk chair and sank into the seat as you stared at the email open on the screen, turning it over and over in your head since you still couldn't believe it. The list of celebrities was quite extensive, and it wasn't just Korean artists, there were also Western artists like Tobi Lou or Cal Scruby, but you only had one group in your mind, NewJeans, and you couldn't do anything but hope for play with any of them.

The big day finally arrived, and you were thankful that your T1 jersey with Gumayusi's name on it arrived just in time. You checked your appearance in the bathroom mirror, not wanting to get too meticulous so as not to go to the event with worries on your mind. Being a casual perfume enjoyer you had a few options to choose from, but you opted for something mild, Ralph Lauren's Polo Blue, always good for any time of year and always useful for conveying good vibes. Once you were ready, you left the house.

The excitement and nerves made you arrive at the place much earlier than planned, but luckily you were able to take advantage of this. You walked around the arena calmly, admiring each cosplay and asking for photos with all your favorites. You also visited every possible stand, buying merch from several of these and putting it in your backpack.

When the time came, you immediately went to the place indicated in the email for the sweepstake winners, a large room that served as a waiting room near the stage. Upon checking in you were bombarded with a series of rules that were more than expected, no touching unless prompted by the celebrity, no request for personal contact and the sort of things you might expect at an event of that nature. They told all the winners that you would be called by your summoner names when it was your time to play, and that they would be alternating between celebrity and winner. They also told you that you were all going to play the roles you signed up for, so they gave you a bracelet that said 'ADC'. Finally, the two representatives told you to have a good time and left you all alone in the room.

All names were being called, and your excitement only grew inside you as you realized that your NewJeans bias hadn't been called yet. Last game, and you already knew that by discard you were going to play against, or with Danielle. Minji and Hanni had already been called previously, so you already knew who was going to be there.

The teams began to organize, and you considered yourself the luckiest guy in the world when you realized that Danielle was going to be your support. They took you to the stage, and there she was, as radiant and spectacular as always. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, a short skirt of the same color, and high platform leather boots. Her beautiful curly hair with two adorable pigtails on the back of her head. When you approached her a big smile formed on her face, and you were immediately stunned by her beauty.

"Hi! I'm Danielle," she introduced herself, extending a hand to you, you shook it, and you both bowed, "you must be… Recon, right?"

"Yup," you nodded with a smile, "oh god, it's a great pleasure to meet you, seriously, I admire you guys a lot."

"Awww, thank you very much!" She bowed again, "Let's have fun, okay?"

"Sure!" At that moment you were told to sit down, and you were in champion selection in a matter of seconds, "Alright, what kind of supports do you like to play?" you asked, nervous as shit since there were lots of people watching you.

"Well, I always play Leona, that doesn't vary much," she told you over the discord voice channel.

"Alright, you like engage supports from what I see," you said, banning Morgana since she was her main counter, "I'll play Samira, okay? She's the best complement for Leona."

"Whatever you say, you're the expert here!"

Once the game started your mentality became completely different, to the level of completely forgetting where you were and who you were playing with. Maybe that was your good trick. You were the main shotcaller of your team, always attentive to the map and the position of the enemies to dictate plays and engage based on it. Kitten was the opposing ADC, so Danielle was constantly giving you data on how she played or what her tendencies were.

"Let's fight! She's alone!" she told you, however, you noticed due to the lack of vision that it was a bait, and that either the jungler or the opposing mid laner were waiting in a bush.

"Stop! Don't go!" You tried to warn her, however it was too late. She engaged, the enemy jungler came out of the bush and took the kill, "Ugh, you have to listen to me first!" you exclaimed, not upset but as a scold for her.

"Ahh! Sorry!" she apologized, "I'll let you make the decisions, I'll be all ears!"

"You can't engage in a situation like that," you said seriously, pushing out one last wave before recalling, "you had no vision of anything at all, just her, you fell right into her bait, oh, and on top of that you had no flash, it was an easy kill for them."

"That makes sense…" she made a small silence, perhaps processing the information, "okay, big mistake."

From that moment on, Danielle let herself be carried around by you, and you began to treat her like you could perfectly treat any random Solo Q support. You didn't think about the consequences at that moment, but what you also didn't know was that Danielle was not only impressed by your mechanical level and your knowledge of the game, but also by the fact that you were not conditioned by who she was, you treated her like any other ordinary person.

"Their jungler is dead!" you warned, "we can baron, quick!" Everyone listened to you, and quickly went to the baron pit, "if they come to defend it they are dead, we have much more damage," you take the baron in a matter of seconds, the other team had been intelligent and had not gone to fight.

"Jinx and Orianna don't have flash! We can engage!" Danielle said, and you nodded in satisfaction since you weren't aware of it.

"Alright, ulti ulti ulti!" you exclaimed. Dani casted her ulti, which only hit Jinx, but you flashed forward and started the whole fight. Orianna tried to throw her sphere at you, but you blocked it with your W and killed Jinx without using your ulti. Dani also flashed, and stunned Orianna before the entire opposing team arrived, that was when you cast your R, and with the help of your entire team, you won the team fight with a triple kill of yours.

"Niceeeeeee!" Dani shouted excitedly as you knocked down the nexus towers.

"Holy fuck very good job Dani!" you shouted back, along with all your team members. You threw the nexus, and you won the game.

There was a small ceremony for the winners when all the games were finally over. They gave you all official Worlds 2023 merchandise and figures of your choice. You chose one from Kai'Sa. All the celebrities and other people were already getting off the stage, that was when Dani passed by you, she took your wrist and left a piece of paper in your hand before getting off.

''Add me. I would love to play with you again in the future. It was a lot of fun!" the note said, and as a signature it had her summoner's name.

You wanted to turn around and thank her, but she had already gotten out and was heading towards her dressing room, leaving you completely stunned and unable to believe that she had actually done that. You quickly put the note in your pocket, preventing anyone else from seeing it. You got off the stage, and when you picked up all your things you drove back home.

------------------------------------------

The first thing you did when you got home was rush to your room, turn on the PC and enter League to add Danielle. Upon verifying that she had not given you a fake summoner name and that it was real, you sent her the request. You sat there for a while, knowing that she had probably just done that as a polite gesture and that she most likely wasn't going to actually add you. About ten minutes passed, and you got up to go to take a bath.

The weeks passed and she never accepted your friend request, but you didn't let that discourage you since it was what you most expected would happen. During those weeks you continued with your daily life, scheduling coaching sessions with some clients while trying to reach Grandmaster in Solo Q. League was your comfort game, one of the few things you were really good at, and every time you entered a game you felt like a fish in water.

More days, and you were already starting to get off the boat. You no longer thought it was possible in any way that Dani would add you, but one day, without even thinking about it, you logged into League and found that you had a new friend. It was none other than Danielle Marsh herself, or 'MermaidMermaid', as her summoner's name said. You immediately cleared absolutely all the agendas you had pending for that day, and after going through an anxiety crisis you sat down to invite her to a game.

--------------------------------------

Danielle didn't expect to have so much fun that day, but there she was, buried in the seat of the VAN and looking out the window while she couldn't get that guy who played with her out of her head. Not only was the guy cute and kind, but he had treated her like a normal person, something no one had ever done knowing who she was. It always happened with strangers online, but in person? That was unthinkable. She was Danielle Marsh from NewJeans, and absolutely everyone had to be nice and treat her like a goddess. He didn't care about that.

He always gave her compliments and congratulated her when she did something well during the game, but he also yelled at her and scolded her when she did something stupid, and despite all that, he always remained calm to lead his teammates to make the best decisions and win. It seemed like something quite basic, but for a celebrity who was already fed up with everyone being fake and hypocritical towards her, it was something very noteworthy, which is why she gave him her summoner name; she wanted someone new to play with, someone who wouldn't treat her like a spoiled baby and would make her really improve at the game while being real towards her.

However, she was still a celebrity, and that meant that she had to continue fulfilling her endless activities with the group. She was quite frustrated since she had almost no window of free time to sit at the computer, and also worried that the guy would think that she was just lying and that she really had no intention of adding him. Nothing could be further from the truth, she was impatient to have free time and accept the friend request that she knew was pending.

About a week had to pass before she could have some free time for an afternoon. She sat at the computer, a bottle of sprite in one hand, and logged into League to accept that guy's friend request. When she added him, she noticed that he was absent, so she put her legs up on the chair and looked at her phone while she waited for something new. Her heart nearly burst when she heard a noise inside the client, he had invited her to a game.

She almost dropped the phone on the floor when she leaned forward in the chair and placed her hands on the desk, panic making her look at the game invitation for longer than she should have, but she finally did it, and when she entered the lobby the first thing she did was leave the League Voice so he wouldn't hear her speak. They shared a couple of messages in the lobby chat while queueing, mostly a couple of greetings and reminders of their last meeting.

They played about 3 games just communicating through pings or messages in chat, as could happen with any random person in the game, but it soon started to become somewhat tedious for both of them as they needed more precision and shorter response times, so Dani, knew that the only way to truly improve and win games comfortably, was to speak to him by voice.

When they played the last game, the first thing Dani did after saying goodbye to him was go directly to Minji.

"Unnie!" Dani caught her attention, while Minji practiced in the living room with a piano.

"Yeah?"

"Well, you know I recently played with this guy again..."

"The guy you played with that time?" She put the piano aside, "What's wrong with him?"

"He's being pretty nice to me, and he's helping me a lot to get better at the game!" Her voice was filled with emotion as she said that last sentence, "But talking via chat is quite uncomfortable... I would like to talk to him via voice, what do you say?"

"Uh..." she thought about it for a second, "Discord is the best option, yes," she nodded, "but hey, I need you to really be very careful with that, you know why."

"He's trustworthy, I promise!" Dani exclaimed, "Besides, I can create a new email just for that account."

"Just be careful, please," Minji insisted, "Now leave me alone, I don't want to forget the melody I just thought of."

Dani ran back to her room and hurried to create a new Gmail email exclusively for Discord, an application that was a bit complicated for her to figure out how to use at first, so she asked Hanni for help to familiarize herself with everything before doing anything. When she finally felt safe using the app, she sent you an invite link the next day through League chat.

--------------------------------------

You almost spit out your coffee when you saw a discord invite link in the chat. You quickly put the cup aside the mouse, put on your headphones, and clicked to accept the invitation. It was a channel where it was just you and her, the name was 'please help me', you couldn't help but laugh. She was already joined to the voice channel, so you just had to join.

"Hello hello?" You greeted, adjusting your microphone to your mouth. You heard interference sounds and some tapping on the microphone.

"Hellooo?" you heard her say, you inevitably smiled, "can you hear me right?"

"Yes perfectly!" you nodded.

"Gosh, I'm really bad with computers..." Dani spoke softly, as if she was afraid to raise her voice. Her pretty voice combined with her sexy accent made your skin crawl, it was like listening to an ASMR video, "I had to ask Hanni for help."

"Discord's really easy, it's just a matter of getting used to it I think," you felt a knot in your chest and a fluttering feeling of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. You were talking to Danielle Marsh from NewJeans, something you couldn't even fully take in, "How are you? Is everything okay?"

"You know, very exhausted from all the activities, it's not an easy life," she sighed, "but I'm still standing. What about you?"

"I certainly can't complain, honestly, but anyway, are you ready?"

"Yes! More than ready," as soon as she told you that, you pressed the find match button.

That was the first game you played, of many more that were to come. During the following months Dani made a great effort to play almost every day with you, no matter where in the world she was or what time it was, she always found a window of free time to play even just one game with you. Naturally the chemistry grew between you, but you never expected that she would even want to share her daily life with you while you weren't playing League. At first it was just basic things like the things they did as a group, or silly things like what she ate for breakfast or what she dreamed of, but gradually the trust between you grew, and it was a matter of time before you built a real connection.

You weren't a fool, anyway. You knew very well how beautiful and sexy she was without even trying. More than a friendship with her was all you could ever want from the bottom of your heart, but you were never one to daydream, so you were more than happy to just have her in your life. Occasionally you and her would flirt with each other over messages, but her being the person she was with the warm and kind personality she had, you thought it was all innocent and going nowhere. Average League player.

Friends of yours always asked who was that person with whom you always played and who prevented you from playing with them, but you never said a single word or clue, you always came out with the same excuse that it was just a client who had insisted on private coaching sessions in exchange for a significant monetary sum. They always believed you, but it was funny to think that it wasn't far from the truth either. The only difference was that Danielle still didn't pay you. Not yet.

There was a time when Dani was so busy with international activities that there were several days during which you would only message each other but there was no way you could even play a game. During one of those days you were out with your friends, the night escalated too quickly, and it all ended with large amounts of alcohol. You were a little drunk, and as soon as you had a moment alone at the bar you didn't hesitate to take out your phone to text Dani.

You completely forgot you had written that message until you got home, still with the alcohol affecting your body but no longer as drunk as before. You lay down on the bed ready to rest, until your phone rang with a notification. Dani had answered you.

Upon reading that last message you quickly stood up (tripping over your own shoes on the way) and in a couple of strides you turned your chair around, sat down and put on your headphones to enter discord.

"Hi thereee," you greeted, logging into League.

"Hi!" She laughed, noticing that you were speaking differently, “Are you drunk?”

"Nah," you laughed, "I mean, I'm a little more cheerful than usual, but I'm not drunk, don't worry," you assured, but you didn't know if you were actually telling the truth or not.

"Well, if you say so," she giggled again, "are you ready?" She asked when you were both in the lobby.

"Yessir! Go ahead!"

During all those months in which you were playing, you had not started playing ranked yet since Dani was still low level and did not have enough champions, but for a few weeks that was the only thing you played. You were climbing pretty fast, she was currently at Silver 2, and she was only one game away from reaching Silver 1. As expected, you won that game.

"Yaaaaay!" she celebrated, and you heard small applauses through her microphone, "Oh my god, we're going up so fast!" you laughed.

"At this point you should pay me with nudes in case I take you to gold," you said, not really thinking clearly about what you had said at any time since alcohol always made you this bold about everything. There was a small silence on the call.

"Well… we'll see about that," Dani lowered her voice again, speaking with a silkiness that made you shiver since you had the volume turned up quite high. You were surprised that she didn't answer you with a resounding no, "but that has to happen first."

"At this point you doubt what will happen?" you asked with an arrogant chuckle.

"I said we'll see, next week I'll be home, so by then we can play as much as we want," it was probably just your altered perception of reality thanks to the alcohol, but you noticed a certain double meaning in that last sentence.

"You have to go now, don't you?" you asked somewhat sadly.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry, honey," she wailed, "Just rest, okay? You must be exhausted."

"Yes I am," you sighed, "you rest too, Dani, I missed playing with you."

"And me too..." there was another small silence in which you were smiling, and for some reason you felt like she was too, "later, bye bye."

"Bye bye," you answered back, and left the call to go straight to bed.

---------------------------------------------

Dani was surprised, but honestly she wasn't disappointed at all. The connection she felt with that guy was genuine, something that did not happen very often with people since she became an idol. In fact, she did not give much importance to the consequences since she knew that many girls in the industry did very similar things, but at the same time she was highly nervous since she was inexperienced in that area.

Certainly she was not a virgin, she had a boyfriend who had taken care of it, but her experience at that time had not even been satisfactory, only for that stupid and cretinous boy whom she had already more than forgotten. But since then she never had more time to dedicate to the boys she hadn’t continued training that side of her, she had a few friendly kisses with Hanni, but nothing more than that.

The week before she returned home passed at the speed of light, and as soon as she settled back into the house and rested a little, she told him that they could start grinding rankeds. They had a fairly extensive winning streak, which was enough to leave them one game away from gold, but that's when the losses came.

Three games in a row lost, 0 LP. She was trying twice as hard as usual just like him, but no matter how hard they tried, her teammates were never right and they simply lost because the other lines were way further ahead in gold than everyone else. Of course she could have just sent him nudes, but she wanted to see him put in the effort first.

The road to Gold was being quite horrifying, they were trapped in a win-loss streak for several days, but that was never a cause for despair for him, who continually reassured her assuring her that sooner or later they would go up, since they were simply better players than the others, but time was running out, as there was only one last day left before she had to leave home again for a while.

It was quite late at night and it was already the last one Dani could play before going to sleep, which coincidentally was also the last game she needed to finally move up to Gold. She was curious about whether he had forgotten about the bet since he hadn't mentioned it at any time since he said it, but she wouldn't be the one to remind him.

The game was quite chaotic and difficult for both of them, but with some wonderful individual play on his part, they won, and Dani had moved up to Gold.

"Let's goooooooo!" he exclaimed into the microphone, "I told you! It was a matter of time!"

"Ahhhhh!!" She squealed with excitement, tapping the table with both hands, "You really are amazing!" she said as she watched the Gold promotion animation.

"People of this elo are honestly terrible, mother of god," he sighed, "but hey, we did it!"

"Thank you very much, really," she sighed. There was a small silence.

"Well... I already got you to Gold, I wonder how you can make it up to me…" he said quietly.

"Oh honey, I should sleep right now..." she replied smiling and playing with a curl of her hair, "bye bye."

"Huh? Really?" He laughed, and before he could respond Dani left the call.

As soon as Dani took off the headphones she leaned back and bit her lip still smiling, thinking about the angles she was going to use and the way she was going to send the photos to him in the morning.

---------------------------------

When you woke up and checked your phone your eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing. Dani continued to surprise you, it wasn't just a photo you had received, but a complete photo session of all kinds. Photos of her perky pretty little tits, her long skinny pale legs, her pretty feet, a photo of her rubbing her pussy, another photo lying on her stomach showing you her bare back and her ass, and she even took the time and daring to record a video of her bending over and spreading her ass for you. The killer part of the video for you was how she looked over her shoulder at the mirror and saw you with a seductive look. You were incredibly hard.

A few weeks passed in which the naughty messages and flirting continued, becoming more advanced with each passing day. She was driving you completely crazy, if before your crush on her was strong, now knowing her and getting to see her naked body normally, you didn't want any other girl in the world other than her.

It was the last night before she finally came home, you were lying in your bed, you had showered a few minutes ago, and you were ready to continue reading the Jujutsu Kaisen manga until you received a message from Dani.

As soon as you sent that message you received a video call from her, you innocently responded, and when you saw her your jaw almost dropped to the floor. She was completely naked.

"What the f...?!!" You opened your eyes wide, while she adjusted the camera, sitting on her bed.

"I couldn't help it, I'm sorry," she smiled, biting her lip as she watched you through the screen, "I didn't want to wait for you to take me to Plat before giving you this, so consider it payment in advance."

You left the phone on a small improvised tripod that you made from the blankets and began to undress quickly, Dani giggling every time you took off a piece of clothing until finally, like her, you were completely naked and hard for her.

"My god... the things I would do to you if I were right there with you," you said, bringing your hand to your cock to start masturbating very slowly at first.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, her countenance transforming into one seductive and sexy, "like what?" She sat with her knees apart and started rubbing her pussy slowly.

"I would kiss those pretty little tits..." when you said that she brought a hand to her tits to play with her nipples, "I would lick your nipples, and I would suck on them."

"I'd love to have that pretty mouth of yours on them..." she moaned, "but also on my tummy."

"Oh yeah? Would you like me to kiss and lick all over your tummy before eating that pretty pussy, darling?" You spat into your hand and brought it back to your cock to move your wrist slightly faster.

"Fuck, I'd love to," she settled back on the bed, this time spreading her legs for you so you could see her pussy perfectly, "I'd love to eat your cock too, honey..." she gasped, rubbing herself with two fingers.

"What would you do with this cock baby?" you asked with a gasp, watching how she played with her pussy and how she bit her lip.

"I would kiss it... I would lick it like a delicious popsicle..." you began to move your hand faster, your breathing becoming more and more labored due to arousal, "I would also kiss your balls, and I would suck them until they were soaked."

"Fuck... keep going honey," you said, zooming out so she could see you masturbating.

"You like it huh?" She bit her lower lip, "I would also kiss your tip... and collect the pre-cum that leaks out before taking it to my mouth," she teased by taking two fingers inside her pussy, which was glistening from how wet it was, "and I would suck that cock so hard that I would suck the soul out of you."

"Jesus Christ... I want to fuck you so bad Dani," you moaned, as you jerked off in front of your phone's camera for her. She moaned, and took two fingers inside her pussy.

"Mmmm yeah?" she moaned louder, "how would you like to fuck me?" She began pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy, slow at first.

"I'd start by fucking you on your back, with those nice long legs on my shoulders," you said panting, moving your hand slowly to match her pace, "I'd make sure my cock would go all the way in and all the way out, and also to kiss those pretty feet while I do it."

"Mmmm, how else, tell me how else!" she moaned louder, pumping her fingers faster, you consequently moved your wrist faster too.

"Then I'd love to put you on your hands and knees, and fuck you from behind while I pull on that beautiful hair," you moaned to her, knowing that the more you did it the more she was going to get turned on.

"How, like this?" She put the phone back and placed it horizontally, to rest on her hands and knees with her ass facing the camera, her back making a beautiful and perfect arch.

"Just like fucking that," you groaned, watching as she ran a hand under her body and returned her fingers inside her pussy, this time her wrist pumping fast and hard, "your ass is so pretty… you'd like me to fuck it dear?"

"That long juicy cock inside my tight little butthole?" she said with one side of her face pressed against the mattress, looking into the camera, "as much and hard as you want, mmmgh!"

"How much would you like me to fuck your ass baby?" you asked, the tingling in your lower abdomen becoming more intense as you got closer to cumming.

"A lot! It's all I want right now!" You were worried about how loudly she was moaning as her fingers aggressively pumped against her pussy, but you were so deep in your own imagination that you didn't care in the slightest to say something, "I want you to fuck my ass so hard that my legs tremble all day!

"I'm so fucking close, Dani, fuck!" You moaned, masturbating as hard and fast as you could as you watched her tight ass and how she finger fucked herself.

"Me too! Cum with me honey!" She turned away from the camera for a moment to focus on her own pleasure, but you continued to stare at her ass, imagining that you were kneeling right behind her while you fucked her. It was a matter of time before you exploded.

"Agh fuckkk!!" you grunted, strips of cum shooting out of your cock everywhere, landing on your lower abdomen, on your thighs and also staining your sheet without meaning to.

"Mmmmmgh!!!" She let out one last squeal before she stopped moving her wrist abruptly and cum. Her entire body shook in violent spasms. She lay flat against the mattress, her hips writhing upward as she rubbed herself between her pussy folds and let out cute moans, "Oh my god..." she sighed, adjusting herself to finally look at the screen, "look how much you came… god, I'd love to be there to pick it all up with my tongue and swallow it," she said, picking up the phone and bringing it closer to a shot of just her face, she was looking at your cum-soaked cock, licking her lips.

"You're really going to drive me crazy, Danielle Marsh," you said, sighed and then smiled, "you made me a mess."

"If I were there I'd clean it all myself... but I'm not," she sighed, looking to the side and then laying down on a pillow, "this was fun, wasn't it?"

“Yes it was,” you nodded, entranced by her pretty smile, as if just seconds ago you weren't imagining yourself pulling her hair and fucking her like an animal, “give me a moment, I'll go get some toilet paper. "

"I'll wait for you here, honey," she said, and you rushed for toilet paper to clean everything up.

"Fuck, I'll have to change the sheets," you sighed, cleaning it before throwing all the papers into the trash can and returning to Dani, "here I am."

"Damn, I think Hanni unnie heard me," she said, putting a hand to her mouth to giggle, "she just told me to shut up via text."

"Well, tell her you're not going to scream like that anymore," you laughed, lying back on the pillow, "you were moaning pretty loud."

"Really? God, they're going to kill me," she looked worried for a moment, "But nah, it's my revenge, Minji always does this kind of thing with her dildo."

"Wow, I guess you didn't need to share that information," you chuckled, but imagining Minji playing with a dildo in her pussy wasn't an unpleasant image in your head at all.

"Probably not, but I already told you, so if you want to jerk off thinking about it you can," she laughed, "as long as you show me."

"I don't think I'll have the desire to do that after how you just drained me," you smiled.

"A shame then..." she looked to the side for a few seconds, thinking about something, "hey, I'd like to tell you something."

"Sure, what it is."

"Um... well, I want us to hang out again, you know, in person."

"Well, I'm sure we can come up with something hon-"

"I like you," she said, not letting you finish the sentence, your heart skipped a beat.

"H-huh?"

"Just like you heard, I like you, and I like you a lot, god," she said desperately, as if it was something she'd been wanting to shout for a long time, "you... you're so cute, and so genuine with me, you make me feel like the real Danielle Marsh," she sighed, "yeah, I like you a lot."

"I..." you were speechless, your heart beating at full speed and with a tickling in your stomach, "Dani..." you were staring at her, "I like you a lot too, I don't think I've ever been so down for a girl like I am for you. You are so... radiant, and beautiful, and tender, and attentive!" As you spoke, Dani's smile and her face became brighter, "since you came into my life my days have only gotten better."

"God, you're going to make me cry, stop," she laughed with glassy eyes, "you're beautiful, and to be honest the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

"I… I can say the same thing," you smiled from ear to ear, "you make me feel dumber than I am," she let out a louder laugh.

"And that's a good thing?"

"I guess so… hey, I'm really sleepy, honey," you said, and then yawned.

"I'm going to take a bath first before I go to sleep, you might find some surprises when you wake up," she winked at you, "but it's okay, darling, go rest," she gave the camera a kiss, and your inner self let out a stupid giggle.

"I can't wait to wake up then," you, completely idiotic and in love, also gave the camera a kiss, "tomorrow we'll talk about our outing, okay? Rest, baby."

"See you later honey," she waved at the camera and blew you a kiss with her hand. You hung up the call.

Even though you told her you were going to sleep, you stayed in bed awake for a few long minutes, internalizing everything that just happened and how it had happened. The tender words that she had said to you a second ago couldn't come out of your head, nor did her beautiful and radiant smile while you said nice things to her. That girl was everything you had been waiting for for a long time, and to think that everything had happened by chance made you laugh, but there, staring at the ceiling of your room with a silly smile on your face, you couldn't do anything but thank fate for putting Danielle Marsh on your path. That was the best sleep you had had in years.

---------------------------------

During the entire flight home Dani couldn't get the silly smile off her face. The girls constantly asked her what was wrong, but Dani always changed the topic of conversation or just played dumb. That night couldn't get out of her head, she remembered vividly how he had made her feel. That orgasm, those pretty words, that bright look of his as he said it all. It all seemed like a dream too good to be true, she had finally found the right person (or so it seemed), and knowing that something like that was waiting for her at home only made her stupidly happy.

When she landed the first thing she did when she got home was turn on her computer, take a shower and lie down on her bed to take a short nap. When she woke up and checked her phone, she was not surprised to find a couple of messages from him. One of them was so cheesy that she couldn't help but giggle.

Before jumping into the details about their meeting together, she had to first sit down and review her upcoming schedule carefully, and to her dismay, she realized that absolutely every day of the next two weeks was completely booked. That stressed her out, but it didn't stop her from continuing to spend time with him in League.

"Unfortunately I'm chain cc'ed for the next two weeks, honey," she had told him after a couple of games played, while they talked on discord, "but then it will be your turn for your tie me up," she giggled

The two of them continued teasing each other during those two weeks, day and night non-stop. Many conversations were based solely on what things she liked and what boundaries she would like to explore with him. Things in that chat were getting quite dirty, Hanni on one of those occasions accidentally read a message she had sent and was making fun of her all day, asking her if a cock that size wasn't going to break her in half.

Attached to that last message, a video of her doing a close up of her lips while she licked them and then stuck out her tongue.

--------------------------------------

The plan Dani had formulated for you and her to have time alone was simply much better than you thought. She had told you to meet at a convention center, where there would be a cosplay event where she could wear a mask and no one would recognize her. You had already done your part of the plan too, you had made a reservation at a fairly trustworthy restaurant, as well as a reservation at a luxury hotel that you were sure she would love.

You arrived at the convention center on time, at 5 in the afternoon just as you and she had planned. You walked through the crowd in search of her, not paying much attention to all the cosplays around you since you could only focus on one thing at a time. The crowd was quite overwhelming for someone who was not used to being surrounded by so many people, but in the end you found her, you recognized her just by how she was dressed and by her beautiful long hair, but what finally confirmed her identity was the Jhin mask she was wearing. You thought it was cute that it was a little big on her face.

"Hello there! Your Jhin mask is great!" you said, taking her hand. You heard her giggle beneath her mask as she clung to you in a hug.

"God, I was starting to get overwhelmed" She said, still clinging to you, with your arms around her thin body.

"Ready to go?" you asked, separating yourself from her.

"Of course! We have nothing to do here," as soon as she said that you grabbed her hand and started pushing everyone out of your way as if you were Moses parting the waters of the Red Sea. You left the convention center in a matter of minutes, guided her to your car, and when she got in she took off her mask.

"Oh my god, you're literally a work of art," you said, sitting next to her, carefully detailing each of her pretty, doll-like features, as well as her visibly expensive outfit, which consisted of a long, beige baggy coat, white pantyhose and wide-heeled shoes.

"Do you like it?" She asked with a little smile, also looking you up and down.

"I love it," you nodded, looking into her eyes, "god, I can't believe I have you here with me."

"Just come and kiss me, baby" she said, and you lunged forward without hesitation, gently grabbing her face and crashing your lips onto hers.

Kissing her for the first time was liberating, a transcendental experience that felt like a little piece of heaven at that precise moment. Her lips were everything you imagined, soft, delicious and silky, you lost track of time, so you didn't really know how long you were kissing her until you separated and you looked at the time on your phone.

"Oh my god, it's getting late," you said, starting the car, "I booked us a table at a pretty discreet restaurant for both of us."

“Oh honey, I only have an appetite for one thing right now…” she said, her incredibly sexy Aussie accent sending shivers down your spine. She grabbed the skirt of her coat and pulled it up to her waist, revealing her pair of long legs adorned by her pantyhose, which went up to her thighs. Your sight went straight to her white lace panties, which she took off and then put into her own mouth.

"W-wow... what are you do..." you looked around, remembering that you were still in the middle of the street and that your windows weren't completely tinted. She grabbed your wrist, and opening both legs as wide as she could, she brought your hand right to her pussy so you could finger it.

You quickly hit the gas, pulling out of the street as fast as you could and turning a corner to drive straight toward the hotel. She put on her seat belt, moaning against her own panties while you rubbed your fingers against her clit until her pussy was wet, that's when you took two fingers inside her and started pumping your wrist.

Driving with one hand at such high speed was one of the most reckless and dangerous things you had ever done in your life, but there you were, dodging and overtaking cars to get to your destination as quickly as possible. You couldn't afford to look at Dani while you fingered her, but you heard her pretty muffled moans against her lace fabric and your cock did nothing but throb with excitement. She noticed this, and with her left hand she began to massage it over your pants. You swore that by the time you pulled into the hotel parking lot your boxers were already stained with pre-cum as well.

"Consider this a gift," she said, removing her panties from her mouth as you turned off the car, tossing them in the back seat and pulling her coat back down.

"Get off," you ordered, completely blinded by your desire to fuck her.

You both got out of the car and Dani put the mask back on. You checked into the lobby as quickly as the receptionist would let you, and once you had your key card you were both very close to jogging to the elevator. As you went up to your room floor she took off her mask and let it fall to the floor, you pinned her against the wall to kiss her again, and she began to moan against your lips.

When the elevator door opened you wrapped your arms around her and, almost tripping out of it, you began to walk down the hallway while your lips were still together. It was quite uncomfortable, so you decided it was best to just carry her. She wrapped her legs around your torso, and you rushed to your room, swiping the key card and opening the door in a flash. Once inside you locked the door behind you, and turned on the lights to leave her on the floor.

"Nice enough room for you to fuck me to death, yeah," she said, taking off her shoes as did you before unbuttoning her coat and removing it from her body. To your surprise, the only thing she was wearing from the waist up was an extremely tight tank top with no bra underneath her, her small nipples standing out against the fabric. Of course the top didn't last long, she took it off immediately, and now she was completely naked except for the white stockings which you were more than happy for her to leave on.

You lunged at her and wrapped your arms around her thin, tight body to kiss her again. She helped you undress while you ran your hands over every inch of her body, grabbing her toned little ass, caressing her back, pinching her nipples and running two fingers along her slit. You were both completely naked in a matter of minutes, and as soon as she could Dani climbed back onto your torso, wrapping her arms around your neck and her long legs around your lower body.

You quickly pinned her against a wall, and without any foreplay or teasing you took your throbbing cock straight into her extremely tight pussy.

"Oh fuck…" You gasped against her parted lips, she let out small moans as every inch of your cock made its way inside her until it reached the bottom.

"You feel so good and big!" She moaned, clinging to your neck with both of her hands.

"And you feel so fucking tight baby," you growled, grabbing her thighs and spreading her legs wide open to start fucking her as fast as you could, completely entranced by the immense desire you had for her.

"Oh yes! Fuck me hard and fast honey!!" she whimpered against your lips, as your cock moved completely in and out of her suffocatingly tight little pussy.

You were both deeply rooted in all the pent-up feelings and desire you had for each other over the past few months. You felt liberated, letting yourself be completely carried away by the moment and not thinking for a single moment about everything else. The moans quickly became present, both yours and hers as you hammered her pussy so intensely that it echoed throughout her room. She caressed the hair behind your neck, tangling her long fingers in several strands of it as she kissed you as much as she could. Your fingers were clinging to her soft thighs, beads of sweat falling from your forehead since you hadn't even bothered to turn on the air conditioning.

You and her had been teasing each other during the day, you fingering her a moment ago and her massaging your cock over her pants so well that your boxers were left with a big ass stain of precum on them. It didn't take long for you both to cum.

She did it first, writhing against the wall, letting out squeals of pleasure towards the ceiling and squeezing your cock into her pussy walls, which were already quite tight. You followed her, but not wanting to cum inside her yet, you pulled out from inside her and masturbated, pointing directly at her perfect, toned abdomen, which was painted white in a matter of seconds. Long strips of cum flowing free down her belly and reaching her crotch. You left her on the ground, both of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, that was too fast..." you apologized, panting, seeing her belly filled with thick white liquid.

"Oh don't worry darling, we have absolutely the whole night to ourselves," she said with a small smile, grabbing your face to give you a small kiss, "why didn't you finish inside me?"

"I didn't want to do it without your consent, I'm sorry," you said.

"Ahhh!" she squealed, "you're so cute I'm going to die," she gave you more little kisses, "I appreciate the gesture, darling, but don't hold back, fill me with your cum as much as you want," she winked at you, and gave you a little push back so you could see how she collected your cum from her belly and began to bring it all to her mouth to swallow it.

"Mmm, how is it?" you asked with a mischievous smile, as she swallowed the last remnants of your cum off her belly.

"Delicious, just as I expected," she gave you a kiss and went to the bathroom door, "wait for me in bed, honey, my abdomen is sticky now and I need to wash it, it won't be long."

"Okay," you nodded, and went to the side of the bed to grab the control for the air conditioning, turn it on, and lie down on the bed while you looked at your phone waiting for her. She came out of the bathroom a little less than five minutes in, your eyes went straight to her pretty naked body, and you really realized how lucky you were to have possibly one of the most beautiful idols in the industry like that in the same room with you.

"Oh gosh, it's cold all of a sudden," she hugged herself as she walked towards the bed, "lucky I have you as a personal heater," she smiled, climbing onto the bed to crawl towards you and lie down with half of her body leaning against yours.

"I still can't believe I finally have you in my arms, you know?" You sighed, snuggling her against your chest with both arms, then left a hand on her lower back. She hugged you too, leaving one hand on your chest and scribbling on your skin with one finger.

"It seems like a dream, right?" she asked as she looked into your eyes, two bright and adorable orbs, "for me too..." she gave you a peck on the jaw.

"More for me, I assure you," you laughed, returning the kiss but on her lips, "like, we met by chance of fate, you being a celebrity and me being a simple random who won a raffle."

"And here we are, you already fucked me and your cum is on my stomach right now," you both laughed out loud at that.

"Breakthrough indeed," you laughed.

"Thank you for being who you are and how you are... seriously," she told you with a smile on her face, "as you say, we met by chance, but now you are so fundamental to me that it’s difficult for me to think about how I could possibly improve my life right now."

"Well... I don't know if it will sound corny but you are like an angel fallen from heaven to me," her eyes, full of love and tenderness, looked at you, "I mean, I never expected this to happen when I won that spot, in fact, I wasn't even completely sure that I would be able to meet you since even that was random. I'm literally the luckiest guy in the world, to have that opportunity and to be able to make you... mine."

"Would you repeat that last one thing again?" she asked with a sweet tone of voice.

"Mine, to be able to make you completely mine. You are, completely mine, Danielle Marsh," you emphasized, and she squirmed in tenderness with a sweet smile from ear to ear on her face.

"Yes I am, I'm completely yours, honey," she said, cradling the side of your face with her hand and kissing you again, this time staying tied to your lips.

While you were kissing again, one of her hands discreetly went down your abdomen until it reached your flaccid cock, which she gently grabbed and began to massage. In response, you lowered your hand a little further from her lower back, reaching one of her buttocks to gently squeeze it. She gasped against your lips, and began to rub your cock up and down until it was hard again. You lowered your hand a little further, bringing it between her buttocks and reaching up to her pussy to rub between her folds.

"Mmm… I want to eat you, baby," you gasped against her lips.

"And I want to suck your cock, who will get the prize first?" she asked with mischief in her voice.

"Why not both?" When you said that you sat her up to grab her by her waist, she was quite light, so it was easy for you to just turn her around and lift her on top of you. Dani caught on to what you wanted to do immediately, and positioned herself so that her ass was hovering above you.

"You're a dirty genius huh?" She teased with a little smile, looking down at you and shaking her butt in your face.

"You'll thank me later," with two of your hands you grabbed her shoulders and made her collapse forward, her chest now pressed against your abdomen. You felt all of her long hair spread across your thighs, and also her hot breath on your cock. She extended her knees to the sides, her butt lowered, and now being within your reach you grabbed her waist and made her sit on your face, your entire face now submerged between her buttocks.

You were the first to act, giving her pussy a long, deep lick to which she reacted with a cute moan while she had your cock gripped in one hand. The next thing you felt was how she began to kiss you in every corner of it, including your balls, which she licked and sucked before moving on to lick your shaft from all directions. Not wanting to go too fast you moved your tongue slowly, and just like her you just limited yourself to spreading wet kisses all over her slit, which was enough to make her moan already.

When she began to lick your tip with her tongue swirling around it, you reached for her clitoris to lick it with slow strokes. Realizing that she was the one setting the pace she took you deeper into her mouth, reaching just past the middle of your cock, you felt her try to go deeper, but her gag reflex prevented her from doing so. Still, she began to suck you up and down, moaning around your shaft as she pumped her head at a pace that had you moaning against her pussy as well.

You squeezed her buttocks with both hands, and squeezing them forced her to grind her hips against your face. She did so, and her pussy began to rub against both your mouth and nose. You could tell that she wasn't an expert at sucking cock, but you could also tell that she was trying hard to pay attention to how you moaned to know how to do it better and better. She certainly learned well, since after a minute she was already driving you crazy.

She gradually began to pump her head faster and more skillfully, and you began to move your tongue matching her rhythm. Her uncontrolled moans vibrated your cock, which in turn caused a domino effect in which you vibrated her pussy with your own moans. You noticed in the movement of her hips, more wandering and less smooth, that she was much closer to her orgasm than you, so you hugged her body with both arms and made her stop grinding her hips so you could concentrate on licking her clit with the tip of your tongue as fast as you could, your efforts soon rewarded as she exploded in your face.

Her ass smothered you and she pulled you out of her mouth to let out a squeal into the air, you gladly continued to eat her through her orgasm, not caring about the fact that your breathing was incredibly limited thanks to her. Her whole body was shaking, and you caressed every corner of it with your hands until she stopped.

"Give me another load honey..." you heard her say with a moan, sinking back onto your cock and also using her hand to suck as hard and fast as she could. She leaned her hips forward to let you breathe, but you knew it was also to hear you moan while she gave you a disastrous blowjob with saliva everywhere.

"C-cumming!" you announced with a growl, and seconds later, you exploded inside her little mouth. She took every drop of your cum inside her, making a great effort not to choke in the attempt, when your orgasm passed, she got off you and knelt next to you to show you her tongue completely filled with white liquid. She closed her mouth again, and swallowed everything.

"First blood," she said with a mischievous tone, you laughed still breathing hard.

"Well, technically..."

"Nope, I'm not counting the previous one. First blood I said," she reaffirmed, approaching you to share another steamy kiss.

"Then let's keep playing shall we?" You said against her lips, and you rose little by little, leaning on your elbows. She separated from your lips, and watched your movements carefully. You finally grabbed her by her waist and made her turn her back to you, then, with one hand on her lower back, you made her rest on her hands and knees. She replicated the same perfect arc she had done that time on the video call, and seeing her tight ass and her dripping pussy from behind made your cock throb again.

Without a second thought you spit again on your cock and thrust yourself back into her, your shaft sliding so smoothly into her that a single push was enough to make it disappear between her folds. Dani threw her head back and moaned loudly.

"Mmmmgh!!" She moaned with pursed lips, turning to look at you over her shoulder, “smash that fucking tight pussy honey!!” She asked, holding on to the sheets while you began to do exactly what she had just asked, two hands on her small waist and your hips pumping almost at full power right from the start.

Her body began to shake like a rag doll's, back and forth with each slam of your pelvis against her tight ass, which wobbled with each strong thrust. You gasped and pursed your lips between small moans, admiring her long bare back and how her hair spread across it in an incredibly sexy way.

She stopped looking at you to bury her face in her mattress and moan against it, pulling the sheet a little from the edges of her because of how hard she was scrunching them with her fingers. One of her hands reached out to her right to grab a pillow, hug it and moan against it while you fucked her pussy like an animal. She raised her head again to see you over her shoulder, her red face completely distorted with pleasure and her mouth half open as she moaned in the most sensual ways.

"Don't look at me like that or I'll have to spank you Danielle Marsh," you warned with a sly smile as you fucked her just the way she wanted.

"Oh yes please, spank me!!" She asked quickly with a desperate squeal, and without a second thought you gave her a spicy spank on her right buttock, which made her squeal louder and bite the pillow.

You squeezed both of her ass cheeks with her hands and let your head fall back with your eyes closed because of how good it felt to fuck her tight pussy like that. Your hands went to her waist again, and she buried the side of her face back into the pillow as you brought her to a third orgasm.

Another spank on her right buttock, your hand marked in red on her skin, and then another spank with a changed hand, this time on her left buttock. Dani screamed against the pillow, and after a few seconds of intense thrusts she came again. You slowed your pumps considerably, watching as her slim body shook and her hips made her fuck herself against your cock.

"Here I fucking come..." you warned, feeling yourself reaching your peak again without her even having completely overcome her orgasm. You grabbed a handful of her long, silky brown hair and pulled it back as you gave a sharp thrust forward, exploding violently inside her pussy, "double kill," you whispered in her ear, unloading all your cum inside her tight walls.

"Fuck..." she moaned once you let go of her hair and let her fall back onto the pillow, "it feels so warm and thick inside me... I love it," she sighed with heavy breathing.

"Consider it a way for me to mark my territory," you smiled, and then you pulled out of her pussy to lie down next to her and start filling her back, shoulders, and neck with small, loving kisses. You helped her and were patient while she recovered, stroking her soft hair and placing more kisses all over her face.

"So double kill huh?" She giggled seeing you and standing up to go to her coat, she picked it up off the floor and searched in one of her pockets. She pulled out two things, her phone, which she distracted herself with by typing for a few seconds, and a small bottle of lub, "get ready for baron then," she tossed the little bottle to you.

There was no doubt in your mind what exactly she meant when she said that, but when she got back on the bed, she got back on her hands and knees, spread her ass for you, and looked at you with the same lascivious look she had given you that night on the video call, you knew exactly what she wanted.

"You're a very naughty girl, huh?" You teased, kneeling again behind her and pouring some lub on your fingers to start playing with her butthole, rubbing it and then taking them inside her little by little. She didn't have time to answer you while you used your fingers to slowly open her tight ass, pumping slowly with your wrist until you took them completely inside her, only leaving your knuckles outside. That was enough to drive you to full hardness again.

"Come on baby, I'm ready for you to gank my ass," she moaned looking at you over her shoulder, "put that cock in, I need it!"

You took the lub again, this time to pour it over your cock and spread a considerable amount over it, to leave it very slippery and shiny. Once ready you capped the bottle, tossed it to the side and took your shaft in one hand to guide it to her butthole. You made slow, steady pressure forward, taking your first few inches inside and moaning as you felt her walls stretch around you. She wasn't even able to moan, she had her mouth permanently open in an O, her nails digging into the pillow and her eyebrows furrowed as she watched you. At first it was somewhat suffocating, but as soon as your entire cock had disappeared between her buttocks it was easy for you to gradually get into the rhythm.

You left one hand on her waist, and began to move slowly knowing that she was still struggling to get used to your length inside her inexperienced ass. Finally she started moaning like she normally did, that's when you realized how much she was really enjoying it, but with every thrust you gave her moans became louder and louder, leading you to think that she enjoyed having her ass fucked much more than she could have expected.

The pace gradually increased, you took your cock as far in and out as you could, making sure every inch of her felt absolutely every inch of your cock as you fucked her ass between moans and loud sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

"Why do I feel like you're enjoying it more than your pussy?" You groaned somewhat exhausted already, but not the least bit willing to stop.

"Because I am!! Fuck!!" she squealed in response, she brushed all her hair past one of her shoulders and looked at you over her shoulder, you could only see her milky naked back as you fucked her ass so hard you felt like you were going to break her in two.

"Then show me how much you're enjoying it honey, but I want to look into your eyes," you pulled out of her ass and turned her roughly onto her back, you grabbed both of her legs and spread them wide open, you looked into her eyes, and you went back inside her ass with a single push.

"Oh ffuuuuuck!!!" she grunted with her eyes watering, arching her back as you resumed your powerful, violent thrusts in and out of her ass, "don't stop please!! it feels so fucking amazing!!"

"And it will feel even better honey," you assured, leaning forward to kiss her long neck and down to her small tits, which for the first time you brought to your mouth to lick and kiss her nipples again and again.

Certainly she began to enjoy it much more, she hugged your neck and pushed you hard towards her tits, forcing you to continue eating them while you fucked her ass without mercy. Her beautiful moans were like music to your ears, and between both stimuli she soon came in the most intense, violent and energetic way so far. Her entire body seemed to be being electrocuted, even her eyes were rolled back as the spasms attacked her without any warning.

The way the walls of her butthole tightened around your cock made you moan against her tits, and even though she had already drained you three times that night, you were able to release one last load for her nside her ass. You released yourself from her arms, and this time you muffled your moans against her lips as you shot ribbons of hot liquid into her.

"Mmm… triple kill," you whispered against her lips, and neither you nor she could help but laugh.

"God, we're so stupid," she laughed, hugging you, placing kisses on your temple. You could feel her chest rising and falling abruptly.

"I didn't think you would enjoy being fucked in the ass so much," you said still inside her. You gave her a little kiss on her lips.

"Me neither, but I think I just found a great new kink," she giggled, biting her lower lip, "hey, you're not planning on staying inside me all night are you?"

"As much as I want to, no," you laughed, and slowly pulled out of her ass, and as if it were a plug, your cum began to flow freely out of it and onto the sheets, "I'll go find something to clean you up."

You got out of bed and went to the bathroom to get a roll of toilet paper, you came back with Dani, and while she was still with her legs open, waiting patiently for you, you began to clean her carefully, putting special emphasis on the stained sheets.

"We can ask for new sheets, right?" she asked.

"Of course, but for now let's get some rest honey," you said with a sigh, leaving the roll of toilet paper on the nightstand to lie down on the pillow. She joined you right away, but she climbed completely on top of you, clinging with her thighs to your torso and leaving her head resting against your neck, you wrapped your arms around her and snuggled her against you, resting for a few minutes in that the peace you felt was completely unbreakable.

Until you heard several loud knocks against the door.

Your heart began to beat fast and strong, and you could feel your entire soul escaping from your body thinking that you had been caught. But Dani didn't seem scared like you, in fact, when she heard her knocking she raised her head excitedly and put on the tight tank top she was originally wearing. You frowned, confused since you didn't know what was happening. It was when Dani opened the door and stepped outside that everything became clear to you.

"Damn, why are you so sexy and disheveled?" You heard a girl say, "I'm late, right?"

"No, you're actually right on time unnie," Dani said, and when she walked back into the room she walked in with none other than Kim Minji herself. Looking as beautiful and inexplicably ethereal as ever. She was wearing a semi-transparent black blouse, flared jeans, and sandals. She was also carrying a backpack.

"May I know what the hell is going on?" you asked, covered up to your neck with the blanket in a rather funny way as you watched them. They both had a wicked smile on their faces as Dani closed the door.

"Well... Unnie's been trying to show me something for a while now," Dani began to explain to you, "but she thought it would be best to just bring her along too."

Just then Minji took the backpack off her shoulder, set it down and took out some long ropes from it.

"Tell me, are you ready to do some crafts, cutie?" Minji asked you, watching you with a raised eyebrow as she pulled the ropes onto the bed. You, without taking your eyes off her for a moment, got out from under the blanket to reach the room's phone and call reception.

"Hello? Yes... I would like to book one more night," you began.

"Mmm, better make it two," Minji ordered.

"Ah... yes," you nodded, "two more nights... thank you miss."

—---------------------------

Spren Notes: Well, there's Dani's first smut, with some more to come👽 And again, sorry for the cheesy LoL jokes lmao.

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