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ceeaann · 4 months ago

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— The guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all?!

Pairing - Vi x Reader Summary - You’ve been crushing on the mysterious, mask-wearing clerk at your favorite record store—cool, quiet, and effortlessly charming. Determined to get closer, you come up with a plan to get his number. There’s just one problem. He’s not a he at all. Vi, your sharp-tongued, short-tempered classmate, has been keeping her double life a secret. But as you fall harder and she struggles to keep up the act, one question remains— What happens when the truth finally comes out? Content - 12.1k words, a valentine special collab with @kkoga (angst monster) , heavily inspired by tgswiiwaga, slow-burn romance, angst → confusion → self-discovery, avoidance & self-isolation, mild language, miscommunication, misgendering (unintentional), emotional distress and sexuality questioning

You first spotted him at that record store. A tiny, dimly lit shop tucked between a laundromat and a café, stacked floor to ceiling with vinyl, cassettes, and CDs. The kind of place that smelled like dust, nostalgia, and warm, worn-out wood.

And he was there—behind the counter, hood up, face half-hidden behind a mask, rifling through a stack of records like he had been living and breathing music since birth.

You could barely see his face, but a few strands of messy red-pink hair peeked out from under the hoodie. When he finally glanced up—just for a second—sharp, powder-blue eyes locked onto you before flicking away, completely uninterested.

Damn.

You weren’t usually into the quiet, mysterious types. You liked confident, showy people who could match your energy. But there was something about him—about the way he moved, the way he seemed lost in his own world—that made your heart stutter.

And just like that, you were hooked.

So, naturally, you kept coming back.

“Yo,” you greeted casually, leaning against the counter one afternoon, your acrylic nails tapping against the glass. “Got any new recommendations for me today, mystery clerk?”

He barely spared you a glance before exhaling sharply. “You again?” His voice was low, gruff—maybe even a little annoyed.

Cute.

“Duh. You’ve got the best taste,” you grinned, propping your chin on your hand. “Or are you finally gonna tell me your name so I can stop calling you ‘mystery clerk’?”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Buy something, or go home.”

Oof. Rude. But also… hot.

You tilted your head. “C’mon, can’t a girl just appreciate some good music recs?”

Another sigh. But this time, he actually moved, reaching under the counter to pull out a vinyl. “Here,” he said flatly, sliding it over to you. “You’ll like this.”

You blinked. “Oh? Finally warming up to me?”

Those powder-blue eyes flicked up, unimpressed. “You just won’t shut up otherwise.”

Your heart did a stupid little flip.

Yep. You were definitely into him.

And before you knew it, visiting that record store became part of your routine.

You weren’t even sure why you kept coming back. The mystery clerk wasn’t exactly friendly. If anything, he barely tolerated you. But there was something intriguing about him—the way he never said more than necessary, the way his powder-blue eyes flickered with something unreadable whenever you tried to pry.

You wanted to crack him open. Figure him out.

Make him look at you the way you looked at him.

So you kept pushing.

Vi tried not to react when she heard the familiar jingle of the bell. Kept her head down, shuffling through the stack of records in front of her like she hadn’t already memorized every title.

She had no reason to be nervous.

She’d been working at this shop for months. She’d dealt with all kinds of customers. Music nerds, college students, old guys trying to relive their youth.

But you?

You were different.

You were loud and bright, a walking storm of acrylic nails, glittery accessories, and the kind of confidence that made Vi’s skin itch.

And yet, for some reason, she kept coming back.

Always with that same teasing smirk, the same relentless energy, the same stupid, flirty lines that made Vi's ears burn.

And the worst part?

Vi didn’t hate it.

Which was exactly why she needed to shut this down.

You leaned onto the counter, watching as the mystery clerk sorted through records like he hadn’t just heard you enter.

The usual, then.

“hello,” you greeted, tilting your head to try and catch a glimpse of his face. “You're gonna pretend I don’t exist today, or are we finally on speaking terms?”

A sigh. Then, without looking up, he muttered, “You always exist. That’s the problem.”

You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. “Wow. That’s the coldest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Still, no reaction.

Damn. Tough crowd.

You tapped your nails against the glass counter. “Sooo, what’s the deal? You got a name, or do I have to keep calling you ‘mystery clerk’?”

He exhaled through his nose. “I have a name.”

“Care to share it with the class?”

A pause. Then, dryly—

“No.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

God, he was so difficult. And yet, the more he pushed you away, the more you wanted to see what was underneath all that gruffness.

One day, you were gonna crack him.

But now, you weren’t sure when things shifted.

Maybe it was the day he let you browse through the records behind the counter, even though he definitely wasn’t supposed to.

Maybe it was the time you caught him humming along to a song playing over the speakers, and even though he noticed you staring, he didn’t stop.

Or maybe it was that night, when you showed up just before closing, soaked from the rain.

You weren’t planning to go to the shop. You were just walking home, feeling restless, when your feet carried you there anyway.

When you stepped inside, shivering and dripping onto the floor, he looked up—really looked up—for the first time in forever.

And for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw concern flicker in those powder-blue eyes.

“…You’re soaked,” he said flatly.

You sniffed. “Yeah, no shit.”

Instead of giving you his usual annoyed look, he sighed, reached behind the counter, and—

Tossed you a towel.

You blinked, catching it. “Wait, what—”

“You’re getting water everywhere,” he muttered, turning away like this wasn’t a big deal. “Dry off before the old man yells at me.”

You clutched the towel, staring at him in disbelief.

It wasn’t much. Just a small, quiet moment.

But your heart thumped all the same.

Vi cursed herself the second she tossed the towel.

Damn it. That was too nice.

Now she was gonna get attached.

The next day at school, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The way his voice sounded, low and cool. The way his hands moved when flipping through records. The way he just knew your taste in music without you even saying anything.

You sighed, resting your chin on your desk. “Ugh. I think I have a crush.”

Your friend beside you, blowing a bubble with their gum, raised a brow. “What, again? Who’s the unlucky victim this time?”

You huffed. “First of all, rude. Second, it’s this guy at the record store. He’s, like, super cool. Doesn’t talk much, but he totally has good music taste.”

Your friend snorted. “So you like him ‘cause he ignores you?”

“…Maybe.”

Before they could tease you more, the classroom door slid open, and a familiar figure strolled in.

Violet.

Vi was a known delinquent. Not the kind that skipped school completely, but the kind that barely followed any rules. Untucked uniform, tie loosened, red-pink hair a mess. She always had a band-aid or two somewhere—probably from getting into fights—and a permanent scowl on her face.

You barely paid attention to her but she looked… weirdly familiar.

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. Do I know her from somewhere?

Before you could figure it out, your friend nudged you. “So, are you gonna keep gushing about your record store crush or what?”

Oh. Right.

You shook off the thought and leaned forward with a dreamy sigh. “Okay, so he’s, like, insanely cool. He barely talks, but when he does? God. It’s like… y’know that mysterious, effortlessly hot vibe? That.”

Beside you, Vi choked on her drink.

You blinked at her. “Uh. You good?”

Vi cleared her throat aggressively, looking anywhere but at you. “Y-Yeah. Fine. Totally fine.”

You shrugged and continued, unaware of the way Vi’s entire face was burning. “Anyway, his voice? Hot. His eyes? Even hotter. He’s kinda mean, but in, like, an attractive way—”

Vi sank lower in her seat, hands gripping the hem of her blazer.

“Oh!” You clapped your hands together. “And he knows music. Like, he took one look at me and picked out the perfect album. I swear, we’ve got a connection.”

Vi shut her eyes. Oh my god, stop talking.

Your friend snickered. “Damn, you’re really down bad.”

You groaned, flopping dramatically onto the desk. “I know. But he’s just so—ugh.”

Vi pressed her fists to her burning cheeks, willing herself to disappear.

This was hell.

She was right there, sitting right next to you, and you still hadn’t realized.

And worst of all?

Now she knew exactly how much you liked her.

Sitting in class, listening to you ramble about your massive, embarrassing, painfully obvious crush—on her—and knowing you had no idea.

Vi had faced a lot of things in her life. Street fights, school suspensions, even the occasional run-in with cops.

But this?

This was worse.

She stared straight ahead, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, trying desperately to tune you out.

No luck.

“…and the way he looks at me? Like, I swear he knows I like him.”

Vi swallowed. Oh, she has no idea.

Your friend hummed. “So why don’t you just confess?”

Vi nearly had a heart attack.

Your head flopped dramatically onto your desk. “Because I don’t wanna ruin the mystery, y’know? Like, what if he’s only cool because I don’t actually know him?”

Vi’s eye twitched. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Your friend snorted. “You’re overthinking it. He’s just some random guy at a record store.”

Vi exhaled.

Yes. Exactly.

Just some random guy.

And if Vi had anything to say about it, you were gonna keep thinking that for as long as humanly possible.

Because there was no way in hell she was letting you figure this out.

This was a nightmare.

Sitting in class, listening to you ramble about your massive, embarrassing, painfully obvious crush—on her—and knowing you had no idea.

Vi had faced a lot of things in her life. Street fights, school suspensions, even the occasional run-in with cops.

But this?

This was worse.

She stared straight ahead, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, trying desperately to tune you out.

No luck.

“…and the way he looks at me? Like, I swear he knows I like him.”

Vi swallowed. Oh, she has no idea.

Your friend hummed. “So why don’t you just confess?”

Vi nearly had a heart attack.

Your head flopped dramatically onto your desk. “Because I don’t wanna ruin the mystery, y’know? Like, what if he’s only cool because I don’t actually know him?”

Vi’s eye twitched. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Your friend snorted. “You’re overthinking it. He’s just some random guy at a record store.”

Vi exhaled.

Yes. Exactly.

Just some random guy.

And if Vi had anything to say about it, you were gonna keep thinking that for as long as humanly possible.

Because there was no way in hell she was letting you figure this out.

Vi squeezed her eyes shut.

If she just… stayed like this. Face down. Motionless.

Maybe—just maybe—she could die right here and now.

Vi needed a plan.

And fast.

Because there was no way she could survive another class period sitting next to you, listening to you go on about your crush—who, again, was her.

The problem was, she had no idea how to fix this.

Telling you outright? Not happening. That was practically social suicide.

Quitting the record store? No way. She actually liked that job.

Avoiding you? Also impossible, considering you were apparently obsessed with showing up at the store to flirt with her alter ego.

Which left her with only one option:

She had to make you lose interest.

Somehow.

Vi groaned, raking a hand through her hair. This was gonna suck.

DAY 1

You were back at the record store the next day.

Because of course you were.

You’d spent the entire walk hyping yourself up, promising yourself you’d be cool, casual, and definitely not flustered.

But the second you stepped inside and saw him—hood up, mask on, flipping through records like he hadn’t just been staring in your daydreams all morning—your brain short-circuited.

You cleared your throat, pushing down the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest.

“Hello.”

Vi—er, mystery guy—didn’t even look up. “You again.”

You grinned. “Awww, you remember me.”

He sighed, muttering something under his breath. You caught the words so annoying but chose to ignore them.

Because, really, if he really thought you were annoying, he wouldn’t keep talking to you, right?

You leaned onto the counter. “So. Any recommendations for today?”

He slid a record toward you without hesitation.

You blinked down at it. “Wait… this is—”

“Obscure. Hard to find. And way outside your usual taste.”

Your grin widened. “You’re trying to get rid of me.”

“Obviously.”

Adorable.

You picked up the record, inspecting the cover. “Damn. If you’re gonna break my heart, at least do it gently.”

Vi—mystery guy—huffed, finally meeting your gaze. “I’m being very gentle.”

You laughed. God, he was fun to mess with.

And despite his whole act, you knew he didn’t actually hate you.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t always be so prepared for your visits.

You plopped the record onto the counter. “I’ll take it.”

“…What.”

You shrugged. “You picked it out for me, didn’t you? Can’t let your efforts go to waste.”

He stared at you like you’d just confessed to murder.

You smirked, fishing some cash out of your pocket. “Guess you’re stuck with me a little longer, huh?”

For a second—just a second—you swore you saw the tips of his ears turn red.

But then he scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

You winked. “And yet, you love seeing me.”

He didn’t answer.

But he also didn’t deny it.

Shit.

This was not going according to plan.

She was supposed to be pushing you away, not accidentally making you like her even more.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

And the worst part?

A tiny, traitorous part of her didn’t hate it.

DAY 2

Vi wasn’t nervous.

Nope. Not at all.

Sure, she’d spent the entire morning convincing herself that you wouldn’t talk to her at school—because why would you? In your mind, she didn’t exist outside of that damn record store.

And sure, maybe her heart did skip a beat when she spotted you walking into class, chatting animatedly with your friends.

But she was not nervous.

The moment the teacher started reading out pairs for the group assignment, Vi barely paid attention—until she heard your name.

And then—

“…paired with Vi.”

Vi’s stomach dropped.

Oh, hell no.

She sat up so fast her knee banged against the desk. A few students turned to look, but she barely noticed.

There had to be a mistake.

You? Paired with her?

“Yo, Vi, chill out.” one of the guys snickered from across the room.

Vi clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to chuck her notebook at him.

Meanwhile, you turned in your seat, scanning the classroom until your eyes landed on her.

Vi stiffened.

Your gaze lingered for a second, your head tilting slightly, like you were trying to place her.

And then—just like that—your expression shifted into something casual.

“Oh,” you said, getting up from your chair. “Guess that’s me.”

You walked over, dropping into the seat beside her without hesitation.

She should’ve skipped. She should’ve skipped.

“Alright,” you sighed, flipping through the worksheet. “Let’s get this over with.”

Vi swallowed hard, gripping her pen like it was a lifeline. “Yeah. Sure.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, reading the first question. “Alright, uh… What do you think?”

Vi blinked. “Huh?”

You gave her a look. “The question, dude. C’mon, stay with me.”

Vi’s brain short-circuited. Dude? You just called her dude?

“Right,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “Uh, I guess…” She skimmed the worksheet, barely processing the words. “This one?” She pointed to a random answer.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Vi hesitated. “...No?”

You snorted. “Yeah, let’s go with something else.”

Vi groaned internally. Great. She was an idiot and you thought she was dumb. This was just perfect.

To her credit, you didn’t seem too annoyed. If anything, you were just amused. You scribbled down an answer, tapping the pen against your chin. “Alright, next one…”

Vi exhaled slowly.

She just had to act normal. Keep it cool. Do the stupid assignment. And not think about how ridiculously close you were sitting.

Easy.

Totally easy.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t a disaster.

The two of you managed to get through the assignment without any major incidents. You mostly did the writing while Vi tried not to make a fool of herself.

And now, as you leaned back in your chair, stretching, you let out a satisfied sigh.

“Alright, that’s done,” you said. “You’re not completely useless, I guess.”

Vi huffed out a laugh. “High praise.”

You smirked, tossing your pen onto the desk. “Gotta give credit where it’s due.”

Vi wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she just nodded.

A few seconds passed.

Then, just as quickly as you’d entered her space, you got up, gathering your things.

“Well, see ya.”

And just like that, you were gone, off to rejoin your friends, laughing at something one of them said.

Vi exhaled, slumping back in her chair.

Crisis mostly averted.

But she was way too close to being caught.

DAY 3

Vi was not about to let herself slip up.

Not now. Not ever.

So after her shift at the record store, she did what she always did—ripped out her piercings, scrubbed off her black nail polish, and made sure her school uniform looked just normal enough to keep you from noticing anything.

It was foolproof.

…Or so she thought.

Because the next morning, when she sat down in class, she made the fatal mistake of stretching her hands out on her desk.

And you noticed.

“Wait a second.”

Vi’s heart stopped.

She barely had time to react before you grabbed her hand, lifting it up for inspection.

“Your nails…” you murmured, narrowing your eyes.

Vi froze.

Oh shit.

There was still a faint trace of black nail polish around the edges of her nails, smudged just enough to be noticeable.

And the way you were staring at it?

Yeah. She was so dead.

Your brows furrowed in concentration. “This color… I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

Vi yanked her hand away, forcing a scoff. “It’s just nail polish. Who cares?”

You ignored her, eyes flickering in thought. Then, slowly—dangerously—your expression shifted.

Your lips parted slightly. “No way…”

Vi stiffened. Oh god, oh god, oh god—

You snapped your fingers. “The music store guy has the exact same nail polish.”

Vi’s stomach flipped.

Was this it? Was this how she got caught?

You stared at her for another few seconds, tilting your head.

Vi could feel the gears turning in your brain.

And then—

“…Meh.”

Vi blinked. “Huh?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Probably a coincidence.”

Vi nearly collapsed from sheer relief.

You yawned, resting your chin in your palm. “Man, that guy’s been on my mind a lot lately. Think I should ask for his number?”

Vi’s entire body locked up.

She plastered on the most uninterested face she could manage. “Dunno. Maybe he’d say no.”

You snorted. “Pfft. Yeah, right. I’m adorable.”

Vi buried her face in her arms.

She was going to die.

DAY 4

Vi had been doing so well.

She’d managed to keep you clueless, survived another school day without getting caught, and even convinced herself that she was totally in control of this whole situation.

And then you showed up at the record store with that damn smile.

“Hey, mystery guy.”

Vi didn’t look up. “Back again? We're about to close.”

“Obviously.” You leaned against the counter, eyes twinkling. “And today, I actually need your help.”

Vi exhaled, pretending to be annoyed. “You always need my help.”

You ignored that. “So, I was thinking… You’ve got good taste in music, right?”

Vi smirked. “Clearly.”

“Well, I wanna hear it.” You grinned. “Make me a playlist.”

Vi blinked. “What.”

“You know. A playlist. Songs you think I’d like.”

Vi’s stomach dropped.

Oh, hell no.

That was dangerous. Too personal. Too close. Too much room for slipping up.

She needed an excuse. Something to shut this down fast.

“Nah,” she said flatly. “Not my problem.”

Your smile didn’t waver. “Oh, come on. I know you have a good one in mind. Just send it to me.”

“I don’t—”

“Here.”

Before Vi could react, you grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand toward you.

She stiffened instantly.

Because oh god, you were holding her hand.

Not just holding—writing on it.

Her brain completely short-circuited.

She barely processed the way your fingers traced over her skin, the slight ticklish sensation of the pen gliding against it, the casual ease with which you invaded her space like it was the most natural thing in the world.

By the time she snapped out of it, it was too late.

You pulled back, capping your pen with a satisfied nod.

“There,” you said. “That’s my number.”

Vi stared at her palm like it was a ticking bomb.

You winked. “Send me the playlist, okay?”

Vi swallowed. “Uh.”

You gave her a little wave, completely unaware of the absolute meltdown she was having.

“See ya, mystery guy.”

Then, just like that, you walked out.

Leaving Vi standing there.

With your number.

On her hand.

And the horrifying realization that she had no way out of this.

The second you stepped out of the record store, you bolted around the corner, whipped out your phone, and immediately started typing.

Grinning, you typed back.

Your phone practically exploded with notifications.

Your friends lost their minds in the chat.

You laughed, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

This was too fun.

Now, all you had to do was wait.

The second you walked out of the record store, Vi knew she was screwed.

It wasn’t just because you had given her your number. No—if it had been just that, she could’ve ignored it. Pretended she lost it. Lied about never seeing it.

But no. You wrote it on her damn hand.

And worse? You did it so casually—like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it didn’t completely knock the air out of her lungs and set her brain on fire.

Vi was still standing there, completely frozen, when a low chuckle rumbled from the back of the store.

“You’re still in one piece, huh?”

Vi snapped out of it just in time to see Vander, her adoptive father and technically the shop’s owner, smirking as he wiped down the counter.

Powder, Vi’s little sister, was leaning dramatically against the nearest shelf, watching her with wide eyes. “Vi. Oh my God. You got a girl’s number.”

Vi scowled. “Shut up.”

“Oh, hell no.” Powder bolted forward, practically vibrating with excitement. “Lemme see!”

Before Vi could yank her hand away, Powder grabbed it, gasping at the sight of your number.

“Ohhh, this is so real.” Powder looked up at Vander with a huge grin. “Big sis has a crush.”

Vi yanked her hand back like it burned. “I do not.”

Vander chuckled. “You gonna call her?”

Vi stiffened. “What? No.”

Powder gasped dramatically. “You’re gonna ghost her?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Then what are you gonna do?”

Vi groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Nothing. I’m gonna do nothing.”

Powder crossed her arms. “You can’t do nothing. She gave you her number. That’s, like, the universal ‘hey, I like you’ move!”

Vander hummed in agreement, setting down his rag. “Gotta say, kid, it’d be rude to leave her hanging.”

Vi’s face burned. “I don’t even know if she likes me like that!”

Powder snorted. “She wrote her number on your hand.”

“Yeah, maybe she just—” Vi cut herself off. Just what? Just wanted a playlist? Just wanted to mess with her? Just wanted an excuse to talk to her again?

Vander raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

“I’m not.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Vi groaned, shoving her hands deep into her hoodie pockets. “Can we please just close up the store and forget this ever happened?”

Vander chuckled. “Sure, sure. But if she shows up again, I’m making you ring her up.”

Vi froze.

“Wait, no—”

But Vander was already walking toward the back room, Powder following close behind with a devious smirk.

Vi slumped against the counter, exhaling sharply.

This was not how today was supposed to go.

Vi locked up the shop, shoving her hands deep into her hoodie pockets as she stepped onto the dimly lit street.

The air was cool, the usual hum of the city filling the silence. Normally, she liked the walk home. It was quiet, easy—time to clear her head.

Not tonight.

Tonight, her brain was screaming.

Because no matter how hard she tried to push it aside, her palm still tingled where you had grabbed it.

Where you had written your damn number.

Vi scowled, rubbing at her hand as she walked. The ink had smudged a little, but the numbers were still clear.

Send me the playlist, okay?

Your words echoed in her head, over and over, until she wanted to throw herself into traffic.

She could ignore it. She should ignore it.

But that wasn’t gonna stop you.

You’d just show up at the store again, all teasing and smug, cornering her into another conversation.

She hated how easily you did that. How easily you got under her skin.

Vi exhaled sharply, kicking at a loose rock on the sidewalk.

By the time she reached home, her nerves were shot. She slammed the door behind her, tossed her bag onto the floor, and collapsed onto her bed with a heavy sigh.

Her phone buzzed.

Her breath hitched.

She scrambled for it, unlocking the screen—

Not you.

Just some random notification.

Vi groaned, flopping onto her back.

This was ridiculous.

She needed to stop thinking about you.

She needed to end this now.

Without looking, she grabbed a wet wipe from her desk and started rubbing at her palm.

The ink smudged.

But as she watched the numbers fade, her chest got this weird, horrible feeling—like she was making a mistake.

She swallowed hard.

And before she could think about it too much, she grabbed a pen.

And rewrote your number.

Just in case.

Then, throwing the pen aside, she buried her face in her pillow and groaned.

She was so, so screwed.

Vi slumped at her desk, headphones on, phone in her hand, staring at the empty playlist with a scowl.

Making a playlist for someone should be easy. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before. But this wasn’t just some random playlist. You had asked for it. And somehow, that made it so much harder.

She huffed and started adding songs at random, going with her usual favorites.

"Smells Like Teen Spirit" – Nirvana.A classic. No way she could go wrong with that.

"The Pretender" – Foo Fighters.Yeah, solid choice. High energy. A little chaotic. Should be your vibe.

She tapped her fingers against the desk, thinking.

"Reptilia" – The Strokes.Good riff, good energy.

"Last Nite" – The Strokes.… Maybe a bit too mainstream? Whatever. Adding it anyway.

She continued scrolling, adding songs she thought you might like—or at least songs she hoped you’d think were cool.

"Do I Wanna Know?" – Arctic Monkeys.Wait. No. That sounded way too much like a confession. She deleted it immediately.

"Are You Gonna Be My Girl" – Jet.Deleted. Way too flirty.

She groaned, running a hand through her hair. Why is this so hard?

At this rate, she was going to end up overanalyzing every song. Should she just throw in some random stuff and hope for the best? Or should she actually put effort into it?

She clicked on a new song.

"Seven Nation Army" – The White Stripes.

Okay. This one could stay.

She sat back, staring at the playlist. It was good. Solid. A little messy, but it fit.

It should’ve been fine.

But somehow, it didn’t feel like enough.

She bit her lip, hesitating—then, without thinking too hard about it, she added one last song.

"Everlong" – Foo Fighters.

Her finger hovered over the screen.

That one was definitely a little too much.

Too personal.

Too… soft.

But instead of deleting it, Vi pressed save.

Now she just had to figure out how to actually send it to you without completely losing her mind.

Your number was still sitting there, clear as day, saved under a blank contact.

She shouldn’t text you.

She should just ignore it.

But if she ignored it, you’d definitely come back to the store, all smug and teasing, asking why she hadn’t sent the playlist yet. And then what? She couldn’t just say no. That would be weird. Suspicious.

Vi groaned, flopping back onto her bed.

This was so stupid.

It was just a playlist. It wasn’t like she was agreeing to a date or something. All she had to do was send a message, drop a few song links, and be done with it.

Simple.

Easy.

Except her hands wouldn’t move.

Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, typing out a quick, Here’s your playlist, before immediately deleting it.

Too blunt.

She tried again. Here you go. Let me know what you think.

Nope. Too casual. Too friendly. She didn’t talk like that.

Vi groaned, covering her face with one hand. She had never felt so stupid over a text in her life.

Her phone buzzed.

Her heart jumped.

But when she checked, it wasn’t you. Just some random notification.

Vi scowled, tossing her phone onto the bed.

She needed to get a grip.

It was just a text. Just a stupid, meaningless text.

So why the hell was it making her so nervous?

Her eyes drifted back to her phone.

Maybe… just one message.

Just to get it over with.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard again, hesitating—before she finally, finally typed:

Here’s your playlist.

She hesitated.

Then, before she could overthink it any further, she hit send.

And immediately regretted it.

Vi tossed her phone across the bed, rolling onto her stomach and groaning into her pillow.

Now she had to wait.

And that was so much worse.

You had been checking your phone way too much.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

But, well… it had been hours since you gave your number to the record store clerk, and there was still nothing. No text. No playlist. No reaction.

You weren’t worried, exactly. It’s not like he had to text you right away. But still—what was taking so long?

It wasn’t like you asked for something difficult. Just a playlist. A few songs. How hard could that be?

Your friends had been blowing up the group chat all night.

You rolled your eyes.

Okay, maybe that was a little funny. The thought of him—cool, quiet, aloof him—nervous over a simple text? No way.

You checked your phone again. Still nothing.

With an exaggerated sigh, you flopped onto your bed, tossing your phone onto your pillow. Maybe you really would have to “accidentally” stop by the record store again, just to remind him.

Before you could dwell on it too much, your phone buzzed.

Your heart jumped.

You snatched it up so fast you nearly dropped it.

One new message.

From an unknown number.

Your stomach did a little flip.

You clicked it open.

You blinked.

That was… it?

No explanation? No hey, sorry for the wait? No follow-up?

Just straight to business.

You stared at the message for a second before a grin crept onto your lips.

Classic mystery guy.

Shaking your head, you clicked on the link, opening the playlist.

The first few songs made sense. Smells Like Teen Spirit, The Pretender, Reptilia—all solid, all very him.

But as you scrolled further, something caught your eye.

"Everlong" – Foo Fighters.

You paused.

That one felt… different.

More personal.

Your lips curled into a smirk.

Oh, this was interesting.

Grinning, you clicked play.

Then, without missing a beat, you typed back:

You: Took you long enough ;)You: Good taste though. Didn’t take you for a Foo Fighters kind of guy.

And then, for good measure:

You: Guess I’ll have to come back and thank you in person.

You hit send, tossing your phone aside as Everlong started playing through your speakers.

Let’s see how he handled that.

Vi had finally started to relax.

She’d thrown herself onto her bed, tucked herself under the blankets, and convinced herself that it didn’t matter.

Your number was still there, sitting clear as day in her contacts. But if she ignored it, nothing bad would happen.

She could just go to sleep, wake up, go to work tomorrow, and pretend this never—

BZZT.

Vi flinched.

Her whole body tensed as she stared at her phone.

It was probably nothing. A spam message. An email.

Her phone buzzed again.

Nope. That was definitely a text.

Vi squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t check it. Don’t check it. Just sleep.

Her phone buzzed again.

“Oh, come on,” Vi groaned, rolling over and grabbing her phone.

Her screen lit up.

Vi’s stomach dropped.

Her face burned. Shit.

She knew she should’ve taken that song out.

Vi sat up so fast she nearly flung herself out of bed.

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, running a hand down her face.

She was so screwed.

Powder’s muffled voice called from the next room. “Vi? Why are you having a crisis?”

“I am not having a crisis!”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Oh my God, she texted you, didn’t she?!”

Vi threw a pillow at the wall. “Go to sleep, Powder!”

Her little sister just cackled.

Vi groaned, turning back to her phone.

Okay. Okay. She just had to answer normally. Like a normal person.

She started typing.

Vi: Didn’t realize I was on a deadline.

No, too dry.

She deleted it and tried again.

Vi: Didn’t know you were that impatient.

No, that sounded flirty.

God, what was wrong with her?

Powder’s voice rang out again. “Vi, if you don’t text her back, I will do it for you.”

Vi hissed. “Mind your own business!”

Powder snickered.

Vander’s voice came from down the hall, groggy with sleep. “Both of you, go to bed.”

Vi exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple.

After a full minute of struggling, she gave up and just typed:

Vi: Glad you liked it.

Simple. Safe. Nothing weird.

She hovered over the send button.

Her thumb twitched.

Then, against her better judgment, she added:

Vi: You don’t have to thank me.

There. That should be enough.

Before she could overthink it, she hit send and immediately dropped her phone onto the bed like it was a bomb.

Powder’s voice rang out one last time, muffled but way too smug:

“You’re so whipped.”

Vi buried her face in her pillow and groaned.

She was so, so screwed.

DAY 5

The next day Vi found herself immersed in a carnival-style event at the local park. Vander’s friend was holding the event for charity, and he had asked the crew to pitch in. Powder had dragged Vi along, claiming it was going to be "fun" and that she could get free food, which Vi was more than happy to oblige. She had no school today, so why not help out?

Vi was stationed at one of the shooting booths, managing the game for the event. She wasn’t a fan of the loud noises or the chaos of crowds, but it kept her distracted. It kept her from thinking too much about you.

You were still in her head after last night. The playlist. The text. That small, nervous excitement that she couldn't shake. It was driving her crazy. So, she focused on her work and the customers in front of her, pushing all thoughts of you aside.

Just then, her eyes caught a familiar figure entering the park.

It was you.

Her heart skipped a beat. You weren’t just casually strolling through, though. You were heading right toward her booth.

Her stomach did a flip, and she felt her face flush. No. No, no, no. Why now? Why here?

Vi didn’t know how to act. There you were, looking like you belonged at this carnival more than anyone else, as if you hadn’t completely wrecked her calm and composed façade just the night before. Vi’s grip tightened around the clipboard in her hands, her eyes instinctively darting around for a way to hide—anything to avoid a repeat of their last awkward encounter.

Her eyes landed on the table next to her. A pile of carnival masks, left over from a previous booth, stared back at her. One mask in particular—a plain party mask—caught her attention. It wasn’t too flashy or dramatic. It was simple, easy to put on, and most importantly, it would cover her face. Perfect.

Without thinking too much about it, she quickly grabbed the mask and slipped it over her face, adjusting it to cover her expression just enough so that she could breathe, but still stay somewhat hidden.

Meanwhile, you were happily strolling through the carnival with your friends, casually making your way to the shooting booth. You weren’t expecting to win, but you were definitely up for the challenge.

“Bet I can beat you,” one of your friends teased, nudging you forward. “Come on, let’s see what you got.”

You sighed, a bit cocky. “I’ve got this in the bag. Watch and learn.”

Your friends laughed as you took your turn, aiming at the targets. But for some reason, the gun felt heavier than you remembered, and your aim was off. Your frustration grew with every miss.

“Ugh! Seriously?” you groaned as you fumbled with the gun, only managing to hit one target out of five.

Vi, watching from behind the booth, saw you struggling. She shifted uncomfortably in her position, feeling that familiar tug in her chest. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t like seeing you upset, even if you weren’t aware of it.

After a moment, Vi stepped forward, pulling her mask down slightly—just enough so it stayed secure but still let her speak. “You look like you need a hand,” she said, her voice a little hesitant. Her stomach flipped at the thought of being noticed. She wasn’t supposed to be the one in the spotlight, not here, not now.

You blinked, caught off guard by her presence. “What? No, I’m fine, really. Just having an off day.”

She raised an eyebrow, though her mouth quirked into an amused smile under her mask. “Doesn’t look like it.” She gestured at the gun. “You want me to take a shot?”

You hesitated. Something about her seemed oddly familiar, but you couldn’t place it. It wasn’t like you’d seen her before, but the way she carried herself... it reminded you of something.

Before you could say anything, she snatched up the gun with an easy, practiced motion. She set her stance and began taking her shots with precision, hitting every target effortlessly.

You gawked at her in silence. Damn, she’s good.

With one final shot, she hit the last target, and the bell rang, signaling a win. The lights flashed above the booth, and she handed you the prize—a giant stuffed bear.

You blinked, completely dumbfounded. “Wait, you really didn’t have to do that. I was just… trying to have fun. I didn’t expect to actually win.”

Vi shrugged, looking just a little too calm for someone who had just stepped in to save the day. "No big deal. You looked like you needed a little help."

But her mind was spinning. Why did I do that? Why did I step in?

Her eyes flicked nervously toward you, but behind her mask, her face flushed red. What the hell, Vi? She cursed to herself. Why are you acting like this?

You blinked again, studying her a little more closely. That odd sense of familiarity crept back, and you couldn’t shake it. There was something about her—the way she moved, how she made everything look so easy. But the mask was throwing you off. Maybe it’s just me overthinking. You tried to push the thought aside.

“Thanks,” you said, awkwardly accepting the prize. “I owe you one.”

Vi, still in a daze, managed a short nod, her heart racing. “No need. Just… enjoy the game.”

You gave her a small smile, but the moment was over. You turned back to your friends, who were eagerly moving toward the next booth.

As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder, just to see her standing there, adjusting the mask, her posture stiff and unsure, like she was trying to disappear into the background.

Vi’s stomach was doing flip-flops, and her thoughts were running wild. I’m an idiot. Why the hell did I step in like that? Why’d I even try to help her? She doesn’t need me to do that, and now I look like a fool.

She couldn’t stop replaying the scene in her head, the way you’d looked at her for just a second too long, like you recognized her. Oh my god, what if she knows? What if she realizes who I am?

She adjusted her mask a little, trying to calm her nerves. You’re fine, Vi. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.

But deep down, she wasn’t so sure.

She tried to distract herself by focusing on the next group of carnival-goers who approached her booth. But all she could think about was you—and that mask that probably wasn’t even enough to keep you from figuring out who she was.

Vi barely made it through the rest of her shift.

After you left the booth, she couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her head. The way you had looked at her. That pause when you had stared at her just a second too long. That stupid feeling in her gut that told her she was being so obvious.

She didn’t recognize me, right?

Vi groaned, running a hand down her face. She could still feel the warmth on her cheeks, and the way her fingers had trembled when she handed you the stuffed bear.

"Vi, are you good?"

She stiffened. Powder was suddenly right there, standing next to her booth with a half-eaten funnel cake in her hands, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Vi sighed, adjusting the mask on her face. “I’m fine, Powder.”

"You sure?" Powder smirked, taking a slow bite of her snack. "‘Cause you look like you’re about to pass out."

Vi shot her a glare. “Go bother someone else.”

“Ohhh, touchy,” Powder teased, rocking on her heels. "You look extra weird today. What’s with the mask, anyway?" She poked Vi’s arm. "What, you trying to be mysterious or something?"

Vi stiffened, nearly choking on her own breath. “No,” she said way too fast.

Powder’s smirk widened. “OHHHH MY GOD.” She pointed at Vi like she just cracked some world-ending secret. “You’re hiding from someone!”

Vi paled. “Shut up.”

"You are!” Powder cackled, her blue eyes gleaming. “Wait, wait—who is it? Someone from school? Omg, do you owe someone money? Did you piss off the wrong person?"

Vi groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Powder, I swear—"

Then, as if the universe was hell-bent on making her suffer, your voice cut through the carnival noise.

“Guys! I'm gonna try that game again—”

Vi froze.

She barely had time to react before you and your friends walked back toward the booth.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

She spun around so fast Powder blinked in confusion. “What are you—”

“COVER ME,” Vi hissed, practically throwing herself behind Powder.

Powder snorted. "Vi, you’re like 6 inches taller than me—”

“Shut up,” Vi whisper-yelled.

Powder turned, watching as you approached the booth again, seemingly interested in another round. Her eyes flicked back to Vi, who was literally crouching behind the prize shelf like some kind of escaped fugitive.

Her grin grew wicked. "Wait a second.”

Vi paled. "Powder. No."

Powder gasped, clapping her hands together. “IT’S HER.”

“SHHHH,” Vi hissed, shoving Powder away before she could draw more attention. “Be cool, be normal.”

Powder was not normal. In fact, she was giggling like a madman.

Vi had never known fear like this.

She stayed frozen in place, barely daring to peek out from behind the booth. You cannot recognize me, you cannot recognize me, you cannot recognize me—

Meanwhile, you handed some tickets to the person running the booth (thankfully not Vi) and picked up the toy gun again.

You squinted at the targets, biting your lip in focus. “Alright, I gotta redeem myself. No way I’m losing again.”

Your friends cheered you on as you took your shots—though you weren’t that much better than before.

From behind the booth, Vi watched, her fingers gripping the edge of the wooden counter.

She hated how cute you looked when you were focused.

FUCK.

She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. Get a grip, Vi. Pull yourself together. You’re wearing a mask. She has no idea it’s you. Just stay put and—

"Hey, where’d the guy from earlier go?"

Vi's blood ran cold.

You were looking around, puzzled, obviously wondering where the masked mystery guy had disappeared to.

Powder, the absolute menace, grinned so wide it could split her face in half.

“Oh, him?” she said sweetly, her voice dripping with mischief.

Vi panicked.

She kicked Powder’s ankle under the booth.

Powder yelped. “Ow! Rude!”

You blinked at her. "Huh?"

Powder scowled at Vi (who was mouthing I will end you from behind the counter), then turned back to you with an innocent shrug.

"Dunno where he went," Powder said casually, rubbing her shin. "Probably went on break or something."

You frowned, disappointed. “Damn. Alright.”

Vi exhaled so hard she felt her soul leave her body.

You sighed, shaking your head before turning to leave. "Oh well. Let’s try the ring toss next."

Your friends nodded, and just like that, you walked away.

Vi didn’t move until you were completely out of sight.

Then, she collapsed against the booth, staring at the sky like she had just survived a near-death experience.

Powder immediately burst out laughing.

"Oh my God," she wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. "That was painful to watch. I should’ve recorded that."

Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Kill me."

"Seriously, though—"why" are you hiding?" Powder grinned, nudging her sister. “Wait, wait, don’t tell me—you have a crush on her.”

Vi flinched so hard it was like she got shot.

Powder gasped dramatically. "HOLY SHIT. YOU TOTALLY DO.”

Vi grabbed a random stuffed animal and smacked Powder with it. "SHUT UP."

Powder just cackled harder.

Vi groaned, dragging a hand down her face. This was a disaster.

Because, deep down, she knew Powder was right.

She had it bad.

And worse? You still had no idea.

DAY 6

Vi woke up feeling like she had been hit by a truck.

Not physically—though Powder had tackled her in a fit of laughter at least once after the carnival—but emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually.

Because, well… she had hid from you.

Like a total idiot.

Groaning, she shoved her pillow over her face and refused to move.

Maybe if she stayed in bed long enough, the earth would just open up and swallow her whole.

You didn’t recognize me… right?

The thought had been plaguing her all night. You had looked at her funny. There was something in the way your gaze lingered, like a puzzle piece that almost fit but not quite.

Vi groaned again, rolling onto her side.

She should’ve just acted normal. Just played it cool. But nooo, she had to throw a mask on her face and then go and win a stupid bear for you.

She punched her pillow. WHY did I do that?!

And worse—why did she kind of like the way you had smiled at her for it?

No. No, she was not thinking about that.

She needed to get a grip.

With a long, suffering sigh, Vi finally sat up, rubbing her face. It was her day off, and she was determined to not make it about overthinking every embarrassing thing she had done in the last 24 hours.

…Or at least she was going to be determined. After coffee.

She dragged herself to the kitchen, where Powder was already sitting at the table, swinging her legs and scrolling on her phone.

As soon as Vi entered, Powder grinned.

“Morning, mystery guy.”

Vi immediately turned around. “Nope.”

Powder cackled. “You are so embarrassing.”

Vi groaned, grabbing a mug and pouring herself coffee. “Please, for the love of God, shut up.”

Powder ignored her completely. “No, but seriously, Vi, that was painful to watch. I mean, you were full-on hiding behind a prize shelf like a little kid. That was some next-level awkward.”

Vi scowled. “I panicked.”

"Clearly." Powder smirked. "You should’ve just talked to her."

Vi scoffed. "Oh, yeah, because that would’ve gone so well. ‘Hey, remember me? I’m actually the guy you were lowkey flirting with at the record store, except I’m not a guy, and I was wearing a stupid mask all night because I’m an idiot—’”

Powder wheezed. "Yeah, that would've been hilarious."

Vi sighed, sipping her coffee. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Powder rested her chin in her hand. "Sooo… are you ever gonna tell her?”

Vi nearly choked on her coffee. “Tell her?”

“Yeah, y’know,” Powder said, tilting her head. “That you’re you.”

Vi ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. “She doesn’t need to know.”

Powder blinked. “She thinks you’re a dude.”

"She assumes I’m a dude,” Vi corrected. “I never said I was."

Powder gave her a look. "Vi, you literally avoided correcting her every time she called you ‘him.’"

Vi groaned. "It’s not that deep, Powder."

"It is that deep!" Powder threw her hands up. "You like her! And now you’re stuck in this dumbass mess because you couldn’t just say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m a girl.’”

Vi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, one—I don’t like her. And two—”

"BULLSHIT." Powder pointed dramatically. “You are so down bad.”

Vi turned red. “I am not.”

Powder leaned in with a wicked grin. “Then why’d you win her a stuffed animal, Vi?”

Vi froze.

Powder gasped, smacking the table. “OH MY GOD.”

Vi wanted to die.

“You so like her,” Powder cackled. “Ohhh, I’m telling Vander—”

Vi slammed her hand over Powder’s mouth. “Don’t you dare.”

Powder muffled a laugh against Vi’s palm before pulling back, grinning so smugly.

Vi groaned, rubbing her temple. “This is a disaster.”

"No, this is hilarious," Powder corrected.

Vi ignored her, downing the rest of her coffee like it was alcohol.

After a long silence, Powder spoke again, her tone suddenly too casual.

“Sooo… what if she comes back to the record store today?”

Vi froze.

She hadn’t even thought about that.

You had said you’d come back.

Vi’s heart did an annoying little flip.

Powder’s smirk widened. “Ohhh, you’re so screwed.”

Vi put her head down on the table with a thud.

DAY 7

Vi sighs, rubbing the back of her neck as she leans against the counter. It’s been a busy Saturday, and she’s been thinking about you more than she’d like to admit. Every time she catches a break, her mind drifts back to the way you’d smile at her, the way your eyes would light up whenever you walked into the shop. She tells herself it’s nothing, just a passing distraction. She’s supposed to be focused on work, not daydreaming.

She glances up at the clock.

4:00 PM.

Still no sign of you.

Vi frowns. It shouldn’t matter. It’s not like you’ve been coming every day. Maybe you’re busy. Maybe you’ve lost interest. She shouldn’t be disappointed. She doesn’t even know why she cares.

She pulls off her cap and mask, letting the cool air hit her face. It’s probably better this way. She can stop overthinking, stop wondering if you’d show up.

Meanwhile, you’re sprinting down the sidewalk, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and nerves. You’re late. Traffic’s been hell, and now your stomach is in knots. You promised yourself you wouldn’t think about it too much, but how can you not?

You reach the record store, hand hovering over the door handle, and then—

You freeze.

There she is.

Vi.

The mask and cap are gone. The moment your eyes land on her, it’s like everything else fades away. The voice. The posture. The way she stands, leaning against the counter, the easy confidence in her movements.

Oh my god.

It was her all along.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and your stomach lurches. You’ve been crushing on Vi—the girl behind the counter—this whole time. The girl who was always right in front of you.

Your pulse quickens, blood rushing to your head as a mix of panic and disbelief crashes over you. You can barely process the flood of thoughts, and then it hits you even harder: she knew. She knew you thought she was a guy, and she never said a word. Never corrected you. Never let on.

What the hell? Why didn’t she say something?

Your fists clench at your sides as a wave of humiliation floods your chest. Did she think it was funny? Was she watching you, letting you stumble around, thinking you were flirting with some mysterious guy while secretly knowing you were completely wrong?

A sharp heat rises in your face as embarrassment claws at you, twisting into something more uncomfortable. You want to leave. You want to forget about all of this, but something’s gnawing at you. Something deeper that you don’t want to confront.

If Vi never corrected you, then why the hell were you attracted to her in the first place?

You stop yourself, heart pounding in your throat as your stomach churns. This isn’t just about her being a girl. You didn’t care about that before. Or at least, you didn’t think you did. But now? It’s impossible to ignore.

You take a shaky step back, your chest tightening with all these conflicting emotions you can’t name. Confusion. Embarrassment. Frustration.

And yet, there’s something else, something undeniable, twisting at the pit of your stomach.

You can’t go in. Not now. Not when she might see the look on your face. Not when you don’t even know what’s going on in your own head.

Without thinking, you turn and rush toward the curb, hailing the first cab that passes by. The ride back feels like an eternity. You sit there, arms crossed tightly over your chest, staring out the window as the world blurs by. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, looping in on itself, never quite settling on anything.

By the time you step through the door at home, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed. You’re unsettled. Conflicted. And you still don’t have the answers.

“Home so soon?” your mom’s voice calls from the kitchen, but you don’t even acknowledge her.

“Yeah, changed my mind,” you mutter, your voice lacking conviction as you head upstairs.

You slam the bedroom door shut behind you and collapse face-first into your bed, groaning into the pillow.

This is so stupid. Why do you care this much? Why does it feel like your entire world just shifted, and you can’t even keep up?

But the worst part? You still like Vi. You like her. And you have no idea what to do with that.

Everything feels like one big mess, and you’re stuck at the center of it.

DAY 1

Vi walks into the classroom, headphones stuffed into her bag seconds before entering. She lets her eyes wander around the classroom, and her gaze lands on you. You had been talking to your friends for the past few minutes, rambling on about boys or whatever the hell you guys could ramble about.

Vi places her bag next to her seat, and sits down. She took out her textbook, silently waiting for you to greet her.

…

Five minutes had passed, and it seemed as if she hadn’t even existed to you. Your friends started asking about ‘’the mysterious clerk’’ you had liked. Your expression faltered— for just a split second. But no one else noticed. You told your friends nothing new had happened, and brushed the topic aside.

Vi’s eyes dimmed. I mean, you hadn’t said anything bad. It was— whatever.

DAY 2

Okay, she had definitely done something wrong. You talked about her yesterday, only answering a question, your friend asking for new updates on ‘’the mysterious clerk’’. You didn’t visit the shop either, Vi finding herself disappointed at the fact you hadn’t shown up. It was— whatever.

DAY 3

‘’Hello? Vi? You there?’’ Vander says as he shakes his hand in front of Vi, trying to catch the clerks attention. Vi snaps out of whatever daze she had caught herself in.

‘’Ah— Vander? Yes sorry, I zoned out there.’’ Vander lets out a light laugh, and tells Vi it’s not a big deal. Vi curses to herself, as Powder exits the bathroom.

‘’Saw what just happened. You good sis? You never zone out like that.’’ Powder was worried. Vi had been zoning out a lot these past few days; her sister never does that.

‘’Yeah no I’m… I’m fine. Just tired Powpow, schools been a lot.’’ Powder frowns. She was sure there was more Vi wasn’t telling her, but she knew Vi wasn’t in the mood.

‘’Okay, don’t forget to take care of yourself.’’ Vi sighs in relief as Powder starts to mind her own business. Vi doesn’t know why she keeps thinking about you— she barely even knows the girl. So what if she knew her favorite songs? So what if she knew you liked eating strawberry ice cream more than chocolate? It wasn’t that big of a deal— it was just little things. She didn’t even care that much.

DAY 4

Vi watched as you laughed with your friends, all of them sat near you. Back then— you’d try to include her in all the conversations, talking about ‘’the mysterious clerk’’. But now? You had barely spoken a word about her— or rather, him. It was starting to concern Vi. She doesn’t recall doing anything offensive. Vi sighs. She had come to terms with her caring— even if she didn’t know why. It was quite the headache, but maybe, a part of her— had been missing you all this time.

But still, the girl had no idea why. So Vi had held it in, hoping today would be the day you finally decided to ‘’grace’’ her with your presence.

DAY 5

Vi was losing her mind.

She had no idea what was going on.

One day, you were all smiles, flirting, laughing, hanging around the store like you belonged there. Then suddenly—nothing.

You didn’t show up. You didn’t look at her in class. You didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

It wasn’t just weird—it was wrong.

Vi sat on the couch, tossing a stress ball up and catching it repeatedly, her leg bouncing. She hated feeling like this—like something was out of her control. She just needed to know what the hell happened.

She threw the ball harder. It smacked against the wall and hit her in the face.

“Dude,” Powder said from across the room, watching the whole thing. “What’s up with you?”

Vi scowled, rubbing her forehead. “Nothin’.”

Powder raised a brow. “Mhm. Right. That’s why you just took yourself out with a stress ball?”

Vi grumbled something under her breath, slumping back.

Powder hopped onto the couch beside her, nudging her shoulder. “Come on. You’re acting weird. Did something happen at school?”

Vi hesitated.

Did something happen?

She wracked her brain for answers.

You had been fine the last time she saw you at the record store. You even—she swallowed—flirted with her. You had laughed, teased her, looked at her in that way that made her ears burn.

And then?

Radio silence.

Powder poked her. “You’re thinking way too hard about this.”

Vi groaned, covering her face. “She’s ignoring me.”

Powder blinked. “Huh?”

“She—” Vi huffed, dropping her hands. “She was talking to me just fine before. And now? She won’t even look at me.”

Powder frowned, tilting her head. “Did you say something to piss her off?”

“No!” Vi paused. “…I don’t think so?”

Powder deadpanned. “Vi.”

“I didn’t!” Vi groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “I have no clue what I did.”

“Okay, okay, jeez,” Powder said, raising her hands. “So, what, she just randomly started ignoring you?”

Vi clenched her jaw, leaning forward. “It’s not just that.”

The way she looked at her was different now—like Vi was something she didn’t want to be near.

Like she was some kind of problem.

And Vi hated it.

She didn’t even know why she cared so much.

It wasn’t like they were close. It wasn’t like she was owed anything.

Hell, she barely even knew this girl.

But still.

Something about being shut out so suddenly burned.

Powder nudged her. “If you really didn’t do anything, maybe she’s just dealing with her own stuff.”

Vi exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Give it time,” Powder said, patting Vi’s arm. “If she wants to talk, she’ll come to you. If not, then, y’know… whatever.”

Vi grunted, crossing her arms.

She hated waiting. Hated not knowing.

But what else could she do?

So, for now, she’d do what she could.

Wait.

DAY 6

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, staring blankly at the ceiling. The past few days had been… weird. Confusing. Your mind had been running in circles ever since you found out about Vi—the Vi who worked at the record store, the one who had been effortlessly cool, a little smug, and—God—the one you had definitely developed a crush on.

Except, she wasn’t a he.

And somehow, that had sent you spiraling into an existential crisis.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. This was ridiculous. It wasn’t like your feelings had changed overnight. Vi was still Vi. The same Vi who made you laugh with her dumb little comebacks and messed with you in that annoyingly attractive way. The same Vi who made your heart do flips every time she said your name.

So why the hell did everything feel so different now?

Then it hit you.

It wasn’t that you liked Vi because you thought she was a guy. It was because you liked her. You liked her—just as she was. The way she could be effortlessly confident one moment and somehow make you feel like the only person in the room the next. The way she could listen even when she acted like she didn’t care.

You liked Vi.

The realization settled deep in your chest. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just… unfamiliar. You’d never let yourself think about girls like that before. Not seriously, at least. But now that you were, it felt kind of terrifying and freeing at the same time. The fear wasn’t in liking her—it was in not knowing what that meant. Not knowing how to deal with it.

You flopped onto your bed with a groan, burying your face in your pillow. Maybe this was just a phase. Maybe you were overthinking it, letting your mind go to weird places.

But deep down, you already knew the truth.

It wasn’t just some fleeting thing. You liked Vi. You liked how she said your name in that low voice, like she had all the time in the world for you. You liked how she made you feel, how her presence felt like both a challenge and a comfort at the same time.

And maybe that was okay.

Maybe it was okay that you didn’t have all the answers. Maybe it was okay to not have everything figured out yet.

For now, you just let yourself feel. You didn’t need to understand it all, not right this second. All you needed to know was that, for the first time in a long while, you were starting to let yourself want something. Someone. And that was enough for now.

DAY 7

You didn’t expect to feel so nervous. You’d spent the last few days trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t a big deal. That it was just a conversation. That Vi would probably be completely chill about it.

But standing outside the record store now, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn’t planned on coming here today, but somehow, your feet had led you to the front door.

Vi jolts out of her thoughts when the sound of the door chime cuts through the quiet of the store. She quickly stands upright, her gaze landing on the door as it swings open. She expects the usual group of customers, maybe a few regulars, but then her heart stops when she sees you standing in the doorway. Your eyes meet hers, and for a split second, the world feels like it slows down.

You’re here.

You, who she hadn’t seen in days. You, who had left her hanging without so much as a word. She doesn’t know if she’s relieved or frustrated, but she definitely doesn’t know what to feel when she sees the look on your face—your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, your posture tense.

“Y-You’re back,” Vi stammers, her voice catching as she takes a step toward you. Her breath feels stuck in her chest as she watches you take a hesitant step forward.

There’s a tense silence that fills the space between you both. Vi fidgets with the sleeve of her jacket, unsure of what to do with her hands. Her nerves are firing, her thoughts scattered all over the place. She hasn't felt this way in a long time—so unsure, so vulnerable.

“Yeah…” you say, your voice quieter than usual. You run a hand through your hair, looking away for a brief moment before your eyes dart back to hers.

Vi stands there, waiting for you to say something more, but instead, the words feel like they’re stuck in your throat. You’d had the whole ride back to think about what to say, but now that you’re standing in front of her, it’s as if your mind has gone blank. All the questions you’ve been harboring about what happened between the two of you, about why you hadn’t seen her, they’re all jumbled up inside you. You want answers, but at the same time, you’re not even sure if you’re ready for them.

Finally, the silence stretches too long for either of you to ignore.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you blurt out, the words rushing out of you before you can stop them. Your voice is small, but the frustration behind it is clear. “Why didn’t you say anything? You knew I thought you were a guy... and you let me believe that. Why?”

Vi’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst. She hadn’t expected you to confront her like this—not now, not after everything that had happened. Her mouth opens, but the words don’t come out at first. The shock is evident on her face, her mind racing to piece together what you’re really asking.

“I…” Vi stumbles over her words, feeling heat rush to her face. “I wasn’t trying to— I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, okay? I didn’t know what to do… I didn’t know how to tell you without it being… awkward.” Her voice falters, her nerves taking over as she nervously scratches the back of her neck. “I mean, you came to the store, and you were all friendly, and I didn’t want to mess that up. I thought if I told you, you’d stop coming, and I didn’t want that.”

Your chest tightens as her words hit you. You had always suspected there was something more to her silence, but hearing it from her mouth makes it all feel real. Vi was caught between wanting to be honest and wanting to keep things easy, and in doing so, she pushed you away without even realizing it.

"Why didn’t you just tell me the truth, Vi?" you ask, your voice softer now, but still laced with confusion. "Why make me figure it out on my own?"

Vi bites her lip, looking down at the counter, clearly struggling with her emotions. “I didn’t want you to think I was… I don’t know… trying to trick you or something.” She takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes with a mix of vulnerability and frustration. “I liked you, okay? And I didn’t want to scare you off with the whole… ‘girl’ thing. But I get it. I messed up.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you process her words. You didn’t know what to think, or what you even wanted to hear. Part of you still feels betrayed, but another part of you can’t deny the flutter of something else at the thought of her liking you back.

"Why didn’t you just say it from the start?" You step closer, your frustration building again. "I didn’t care that you were a girl. Why would you think that would matter? It’s not about that."

Vi looks like she’s been struck, her face flushing even more at the implication. She swallows, the weight of your words settling in her chest. She wants to say something—anything to explain herself—but the words are trapped in her throat.

"I’m sorry," she whispers finally, her voice strained. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t."

The air is thick with the tension of your unsaid thoughts. It’s clear you’re both stuck in this moment, unsure of where to go next. The truth is hanging between you, but it’s messy and complicated. There are no easy answers. No quick fixes.

You take another step toward her, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you see something in Vi’s eyes—a kind of hope, mixed with fear, but also something softer.

"Maybe… we could just start over?" You suggest hesitantly, the words leaving your lips before you can second-guess them. "Like, just talk? Without all the confusion?"

Vi’s eyes widen in disbelief for a moment before her lips pull into a small, nervous smile. "I’d like that," she says quietly.

And just like that, it feels like the weight of the past few days lifts, even if just a little. You both know there’s still a lot left to figure out, but for now, the awkward tension has broken, and maybe that’s enough for now.

Vi steps closer, her usual confident demeanor back in place, though her eyes still hold that vulnerability. “You sure? I mean, I might be a little awkward,” she says with a sheepish grin.

You snort, feeling lighter than you have in days. “I think I can handle awkward.”

Vi laughs, the sound soft and genuine, as the air around you both shifts into something more comfortable. Maybe you don’t have all the answers yet, but at least you’ve started figuring it out—together.

a/n - got lazy on the ending guys sori ;-;

#vi x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #wlw #lesbian #arcane headcanon #arcane imagines #arcane x y/n #vi x y/n #vi x you #violet arcane #🧸. ceann's works

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thelogicalghost · 10 months ago

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I'm sure Nate isn't homophobic - the show makes it pretty clear that all his catholic guilt is directed firmly inwards and we never see even a hint of disapproval over others' personal lives - but he's still an older white guy and definitely defaults to cishet assumptions.

Which makes me desperately want, like, a 5+ type fic of gay flirting for the con where Nate progressively gets his mind blown.

Because Sophie flirting with a woman might throw him for a beat or two, but she's a world class grifter and an actress, of course she can flirt with anyone

And then Parker had to be taught how to flirt in the first place and she's Parker so sure, she's completely faking it either way, she has no internal biases, okay

The first time a man chats up Hardison and the hacker reacts exactly the same way he does when he tries to flirt with women, Nate is so glad Sophie takes over the comms to give flirting advice because it takes him half a minute to recalibrate and edit his expectations

But then Sophie's failing to hook a mark and Elliot steps in without missing a beat, flashing his farm boy smile, and Nate is finally like, "how is it that I'm the only one here who's surprised by any of this?" and the team just shrugs and goes "idk that sounds like a you problem"

The +1 is the only time Nate attempts it and they all agree to never try that again because it was awkward and embarrassing for everyone involved

#leverage #nate ford #sophie devereaux #elliot spencer #alec hardison #parker (leverage)

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lacedwithpoetry · 3 days ago

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────★ THINKING ABOUT… JASON TODD, who is obsessed when he gets a peek of your whale tail.

୭˚. ᵎᵎ contains… Jason Todd x teasing reader

୭˚. ᵎᵎ warnings… contains nsfw content (mostly at the end.) — mentions of him being hard, dry humping, female-receiving!oral, making out, thigh kissing, etc. not heavily described.

when he first sees it . . .

• Jason’s mind short-circuits the first time you bend over and he catches a glimpse of lace peeking over your waistband.

• He tries to play it cool. Fails miserably. Probably mutters “Jesus Christ” under his breath while pretending not to stare.

• You notice. Of course you do. And you smirk over your shoulder like you planned it. Because you probably did.

he’s obsessed.

• It becomes a thing. You in low-rise jeans or short shorts with the strap of a black thong peeking out? That’s his new obsession.

• Jason will literally forget his entire train of thought. You’ll ask him something important and he’ll just blink like,

“Sorry, what? I—uh—do that again.”

• He has no shame about it. At this point, he’ll openly say “You do that on purpose, don’t you?” and you’ll just laugh and walk away.

you, obviously, weaponize it.

• You’ll stretch during training. Lean over the counter in the kitchen. Lounge on the couch half-draped in Jason’s shirt and low-rise sleep shorts. He’ll be hard within seconds.

• If you do it in front of the Batfam (intentionally or not), Jason’s jaw tightens and he throws his jacket over your waist like mine.

• He tries to act calm, but he’s not calm. At all.

— You: “You good?”

— Jason, looking ten seconds from death: “No. Not even a little.”

he tries not to be touchy, really. but cmon !

• If you’re sitting in his lap and your thong shows? His hands slide right under your shirt and grip your hips like he needs to hold onto something, maybe deciding to rock his hard length into your clothed cunt just to tease you back.

• If you’re standing? He’s the type to hook his fingers into the waistband and pull it higher, just to see you react.

• He’s 100% a waistband snapper. Little flicks of his finger when you pass by. Smirking while he does it like he’s not the one sweating.

• “Careful, baby,” he’ll rasp, “keep teasing me like that and I’m gonna stop being polite.”

the effects . . .

• Jason’s already a thigh/hips guy. The stringy thong combo just kills him. That little strip of skin, the curve of your lower back? He’s obsessed.

• He thinks you’re the hottest thing in Gotham. Genuinely can’t wrap his head around how you exist and let him touch you.

• Sometimes he’ll tuck his hand into the waistband absentmindedly when you’re cuddling. Just resting there. Holding you. Possessive and warm. Rubbing his thumb back and forth on your warm ‘n soft skin.

• You catch him staring too much? You pull up your flimsy straps just a little higher on your hipbone, tilt your head and say,

— “Problem, big guy?”

• Jason groans and grabs you like you’re his last goddamn nerve.

• You absolutely win. Every time.

Jason wasn’t paying attention to the TV. Or his drink. Or whatever ridiculous mission briefing he was supposed to be reading over.

Because you were in front of him — back to the living room, swaying just a little as you reached for something on the high shelf. And the low rise of your shorts, hugging your hips like a second skin, dipped just enough to show a black satin triangle peeking above the waistband.

Lace. High-cut. Teasing.

His eyes dropped. Locked.

The slow arch of your back. The little rise to your tip-toes. That damn strap cutting across the curve of your waist like it knew it was ruining him.

You glanced over your shoulder, half a smirk in your voice. “Something wrong, Red?”

Jason didn’t answer right away. He stood — slowly — and crossed the room like a storm on muscly legs.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low and thick. “That thing you do with your back? Illegal. Gotta lock ‘ya up.”

You turned just in time for him to press in behind you, hands slipping over your waist like he was claiming territory.

“You keep wearing things like this,” he muttered into your neck, “and I’m gonna forget how to act.”

You tilted your hips back against him. Just barely. Just enough.

“Then don’t act,” you whispered.

His hands dropped lower, fingers brushing under the band of your thong — not moving fast, not tearing, just pressing, exploring. One thumb traced the line between bare skin and fabric.

“You really trying to get me on my knees in the middle of the kitchen?”

Your breath caught — and he felt it.

You turned, slow and smug, letting him trap you against the counter.

And with his mouth hovering just at your jawline, Jason’s voice dropped even lower.

“Gonna keep showing that little strip of lace like you want me to lose it, sweetheart. Is that what this is?”

Your only answer was a slow grind of your hips against his.

He groaned.

And whatever patience he had left? Gone.

Then his mouth was on you — hard, hungry, desperate. He kissed you like you were the only thing that could shut his brain off. Like the sound of your breath hitching was more important than breathing.

His hands slid under your shirt, palms hot and broad against your back, tugging you closer until your thighs brushed the edge of the counter and his belt buckle pressed flush to your stomach.

You arched into him.

He hissed. “Don’t— don’t start unless you want it finished.”

“Who says I’m starting?” you whispered, dragging your nails up under his shirt. “Maybe I’m already halfway there.”

Jason groaned — forehead pressing to yours, eyes squeezed shut like he was praying for mercy he didn’t actually want.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Just like that. Fast. Hungry. No hesitation.

His hands smoothed down your thighs, then back up — thumbs teasing along the sharp curve of the thong strap, the line that had started this whole thing. He mouthed along your hip like he was thanking it.

“You wear this,” he rasped, “and expect me to behave?”

You didn’t answer. You just reached for the counter behind you, bracing.

Jason looked up — pupils blown wide, jaw tight, hands firm as they gripped your thighs and pulled you forward to the edge.

“Hold still, baby,” he said low, reverent. “I’m gonna make you forget your own name.”

And when he kissed the inside of your thigh — slow, deliberate — you believed him.

Jason kissed higher. Slower.

His breath ghosted over the strap of your thong, mouth hovering just beneath where the fabric met skin. You felt him grin when you shifted, a sharp twitch of muscle under his lips.

Your breath hitched the second his teeth grazed the curve of your hip.

Jason chuckled darkly.

Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband, dragged the thin fabric down just enough — not all the way, just enough — and kissed the inside of your thigh like it was sacred.

You trembled.

His hands slid under your thighs, lifting you just a little so your hips tilted toward him. The pressure of his mouth, the way his stubble scratched where he kissed, the way he held you steady like you might try to run — it was all too much. He was too much.

And then he flattened his tongue along your inner thigh. Not high enough.

You let out a soft sound, and Jason’s fingers flexed.

“Say it,” he rasped. “Tell me you want it.”

You met his eyes — dark, feral, locked on you like a man starved.

“I want it,” you whispered.

Jason didn’t waste another second.

His mouth moved higher, slower, hotter. He took his time — lips and tongue and breath, dragging sounds out of you like he knew your body better than you did. He held you firm, letting you squirm, but never letting you go.

Your hands tangled in his hair. His name spilled from your mouth.

And when your legs trembled, he didn’t stop.

Didn’t even slow down.

Just kissed harder — groaned against you — like your pleasure was the only thing he cared about.

When he finally pulled back, lips slick, voice wrecked, he looked up at you with something hot and wild in his eyes.

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heartyluv · 1 month ago

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Hiiii I have a little request/inspo for you if you would like it 😚🤲🏽 As I was reading your camboy fics (I am obsessed btw), I couldn't stop thinking about reader being the one who maybe has an onlyfans or sells things like her panties for money 👀 And perhaps caleb is her #1 fan because we all know he loves panty sniffing. Then maybe a dash of his usual yandere/stalker tendencies ensue because he believes he's the only one of your fans who truly appreciates you. Idk, maybe there's nothing more to explore here, but I needed to share with you bc I know you will pick up what I'm putting down

- @asiatic-apple

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ لا ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺‎

Note: Thank you for the lovely idea. I hope this meets your expectations!

Creds to @/omi-resources & @/anitalenia for the dividers!

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut, Caleb basically pays to sleep with you, He’s a little bit of a creep LOLL, Panty fucking, He’s been in your apartment without your knowledge, Sex on camera.

Word Count: 2,708

Summary: Caleb is obsessed with his precious camgirl.

Stalker!Caleb/Camgirl!Reader

Finding you fundamentally changed Caleb’s life. He never thought he’d be the type of man to pay for the things he’s paid you for, but here he was, almost ten grand deep, paying you to see the most beautiful things he’s ever had the luxury to lay his eyes on.

When he found you, he thought you were a simple content creator, just a pretty girl who likes to do live streams for fun. When someone initially starts looking through your page, they find you reacting to movies and tv shows, playing popular video games, and even showing tips and tricks on how you take care of your hair.

He thought you were cool, but you didn’t do things he thought he’d be interested in watching. Until he found the tab that said 18+ Only - Must Pay To Enter. That was what hooked him like a hungry fish. And you weren’t cheap, he liked that. Just to enter was $100. He wasn’t ashamed when he put his card information in without hesitation, because he was gifted with the glorious sight that was you.

Videos of you playing with your pretty pussy, using toys and your fingers to please yourself, and images of you bent over, spread open, was what captivated him. He’ll never forget the first time he joined your explicit live. People were gifting you so much cash—hundreds.

Your highest payment was almost two grand, and he understood why anyone was putting money in your pocket just to see you come. He’s never come so hard in his life when he watched your slender fingers slip in and out of your wet hole. The way you bit your lip, the way your eyes rolled back, the way you creamed so beautifully… he needed more.

He didn’t give a damn how much anyone was paying you. They would never, ever, appreciate you the way he does. They would never value such beauty and art like he did with you. And because of that, he has to keep you.

So he took it upon himself to find where you lived. Being a colonel offered him access to technology to be able to easily do things like this. And when he found that you lived only forty five minutes away, he knew the universe was hitting him in the face with destiny.

The first time he came to your home was when you posted an announcement, saying you’d be gone for the next two weeks for a quick family emergency. It was absolutely perfect, and he spent time in your apartment like it was his own. Getting inside was incredibly simple, too. With a simple summon of his gravity evol, he was turning your lock and stepping inside.

He only went during the night time after he got off work and drove nearly an hour every time to be able to figure out who you were. He found all the information he needed; pictures, birth certificate, important documents, journals. He knew you. All he needed was for you to see him so that the relationship he craved could come into fruition.

During his visits, he found your stash of toys that he frequently watches you come on. He even saw the light pink pillow he paid you to hump for $800 while you moaned his name, something he paid you an extra $50 to do. He ended up humping that same pillow himself in your bed his first night, smelling your essence and becoming terribly aroused at the fact that he was in the same place that you fill that hot cunt with everything but him.

After he found your empty laundry hamper, he frowned to see that you took it upon yourself to wash your clothes before you left. But then when he discovered your pantry drawer, all bets were off. He took two pairs for himself, rummaging through the rest to see the red lace pair that you wore before you peeled them down your soft legs to rub your needy clit against the material of the pillow.

He jerked off with that same pair for three days before they became an unusable mess. The way the lace material glided against his cock, the image of them squeezing against your fat pussy and sinking into your pillowy lips was all he needed to come hard and fast every single time.

Caleb was addicted in a way that motivated him. He ended up paying you for so many private videos that he became your top contributor. You knew him by name, but you didn’t know him. And he wanted to change that.

So when you returned from your trip, he proposed an idea to you that he was taking a risk on, but he figured it was the only way to put himself in your life without you suspecting anything.

Sending you a message, he said: Hello, beautiful. It’s Caleb. I want to ask you for something that I know will make you hesitate, but for you, I can be a patient man. I want you so much. It’s in a way that even I can’t understand. So, I’m offering you $5,000 to let me fuck you. I will make sure you have all my information, as well as recently completed tests. Your safety and peace of mind means that much to me. I’m waiting. I always will.

When you read it, you were absolutely thrown off. But you were intrigued, most of all. You’d never been paid by a fan with so much money all at once, nor has any of them had audacity to ask you for such a thing. You should be disturbed, unnerved. But your pussy was throbbing in your pants at the thought, at his…confidence.

So, you sent him a reply and you said yes. He sent you the money immediately with interest. And like he said, all his information was sent to you, down to his address and test results to confirm that he was clean. You did the same out of courtesy, but you had to admit. This was a lot. But it was a lot in the sense that you couldn’t help but find out what would happen.

You let him come to your apartment and sent him directions. It was silly to Caleb, in fact it made him smile. He knew how to get to you three different ways without navigation. He would always know how to get to his pretty girl.

And when he saw you face to face for the first time, he didn’t know what kept him upright, but he thanked it because his knees almost buckled at your gorgeous face. His breath grew ragged as he stared you down. From the tight t-shirt and shorts to the way your doe eyes looked up at him, he knew that you would always belong to him. And you didn’t even know it yet.

“It’s so nice to see you,” he said softly.

“Likewise,” you smiled. Caleb had sent you a picture of him before you agreed, but it didn’t do him any justice. This man was ethereal. “Please, come in.”

Was it crazy to let a stranger in your house to fuck you? Absolutely. You knew that. But Caleb wasn’t a stranger. You’d find that out soon enough.

“I’m sorry,” you huff out a laugh once he’s inside and you shut the door. “I don’t mean to be nervous. I just don’t exactly know how to go about... starting? I’ve never done anything like this.”

He looks around the familiar space, loving how you don’t know a fucking thing. He wonders if you’ve smelled him in your sheets or noticed your missing panties yet.

“It’s okay,” he assures. What he really wanted to say was that he knows. He’s read your journals and learned that you’re more shy than you are extroverted.

“Would you like me to help? I’m more than happy to make your pussy wet,” he says lustfully with hooded eyes.

Your eyes widen, thrown off by the filthy words from a man who looks and seems like a sweet puppy. You clear your throat, not trusting your voice to speak for you and just nod.

He walks up to you, his muscles rippling beneath his white shirt. You look up at him as his hands start to feel on your plush body. If only you could read his mind, you’d understand how fucking ecstatic he was right now.

Feeling you for the first time was like winning the lottery. He couldn’t stop the soft groan that came out of him when he felt how your plump ass filled his strong hands, how you gasped when he pulled you close to inhale your scent that he already knows so well.

Vanilla and a mix of lavender. He ended up buying the same bottle of perfume you love and kept it at his house for when he missed you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks sweetly.

“I’d like that…”

He kisses your jaw first, using your ass to push you into him as if you couldn’t be any closer. You feel his cock, but only a little through his jeans. And he’s hung—thick.

“Thank you for letting me be here,” he bites your ear. “You don’t know how special you are to me.”

You don’t say anything, whimpering at the soft smooches he trails down the side of your neck. You honestly just think it’s sweet talk and lust, but for him? This is love.

When he finally sticks his tongue in your mouth, all the gentleness he intended to use is gone. He’s ravishing you, making you lose your breath as he sucks on your lips like a sweet treat. He bites them, licks them to soothe the pain, before doing it all over again as you cry into his mouth.

“Where’s your phone?” he mumbles against your lips.

“What?” you ask frazzled.

“Your phone. So we can stream this for your page.”

“Caleb…” you take a moment. “I don’t know if that’s—”

“Let me fuck you on camera, baby. Please.. I’ll make you feel so good. I want everyone to see it.”

“This isn’t a game. For your safety—”

“I don’t give a fuck about me. Just tell me yes..” he cuts you off, and pleads as he plays with the hem of your shirt.

You find yourself succumbing to him often, more than you’d like to admit because you bring your phone to him and he props it up on your kitchen counter that has a view of your couch.

You’re so wet that you can feel it with every step you take. You start the live for him and he’s so happy to see the hundreds of people flood in, enjoying their curiosity.

iluv2cum: Who is that?? 👀

ForDaFanss: Is this a surprise collab?

here4fun: Omg, is this your boyfriend?

Go0nCr3w: SURPRISE LIVE!?!!?

With you two in frame, he doesn’t waste anymore time. He’s about to show everyone who you belong to and his cock is more than ready.

You whimper as he flips you, bending you over the back of your couch. Your hips sway side to side, whining when the cool air wisps against your wet pussy when he tugs your shorts and panties off. He makes you come out of them completely, taking the panties and bringing them to his nose. Your pussy clenches when you look behind you him to see him deeply inhale the baby blue lace like your scent gives him life. This is what he was looking for.

He puts them in his back pocket, undoing his belt buckle and zipper to get his cock out. He’s never been so hard.

He slaps your ass with his length, the echo and sting of colliding flesh making you leak. You feel him bring himself between your lips, moving back and forth in between them without slipping inside.

You gasp. “Holy fuck…You’re big...”

He smiles, letting the tip touch your clit to make your back arch. “Push back for me, baby. Let me in.”

You toot your ass up and push back like he wants. And as your hole is being stretched by his fat cock, when you hear how soaked he’s really made you, you cry out so loud that you’re sure you’ll get a noise complaint.

Pushing into you for the first time is what he can only equate to heaven. This is going to be his for life.

He’s not gentle, he can’t bring himself to be. He grips your hips hard as he watches his cock get covered in your juices, watches how he effortlessly slides in and out of you.

He looks at the phone to see the mass influx of likes and fluttering hearts across the screen. Knowing that they’ll never get what he’s keeping makes him fuck you even harder.

“You suck me in so fucking good,” he coos. “I knew you would. I knew you were made for me.”

“Yes…” you whimper as you grip onto the couch. “Fuck, right there, Caleb…”

“You feel me in your stomach, don’t you? That’s where I’m meant to be. Deep inside you,” he rolls his hips so you really feel every inch. “We compete each other. It’s about time you found that out.”

Your tits press against the couch, the rough thrusts making your hard nipples grind against it beneath your shirt. He’s captivated at the way your ass bounces against him, showing how good you take him like you’re supposed to be.

“Arch it more for me, pretty,” he guides you, pressing his palm to your back. “Take your cum, let me put it where it’s supposed to be.”

His commands make tears form in your eyes as you get ready to take his load. You’ve never felt a cock like this, never felt such power like him. “Caleb…I’m gonna come…”

“I know,” he says breathlessly, stopping for a moment and spitting where you’re connected, watching how his saliva mingles with all the fluid. Then he’s moving again as you clench over and over to suck him back in. “Let me take you there. I’ll be the only one doing it from now on.”

The way he talks like he owns you should scare the shit out of you. Instead, it makes you match his thrusts as he pulses deep inside of you. His fat tip kisses your cervix over and over and over, and when he presses his hand on the back of your neck to keep you down as you take him, you finally come.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Let them see who makes you cream.”

The way he takes you is being captured for so many to see, and that’s exactly what he wants. No more will you be alone—because he’s here.

You scream his name, grabbing the couch like it feels impossible to ground yourself. When his thick cum spills into you shortly after, you feel how it leaks down your inner thigh as you shake from the intense pleasure.

He gently rocks his hips to push his cum deeper and all that’s heard once he stills is both of you breathing heavily. He pulls out slowly, making you hiss and miss the way he filled you. He then goes to grab your phone to see that the views went from hundreds to thousands, more than he’s ever seen when he watched you. He flips the camera so they get a good shot of your leaking hole.

“This is mine,” he whispers, running his thumb down your lips and smearing his spend. He grasps his cock that’s still half hard, using the tip to rub it all around like he’s staking his claim.

“Fuckk..” he says deeply as some of it leaks to the floor. “If she didn’t know it before, she knows now. And so do all of you.”

He abruptly ends the stream, leaving everyone wet, hard, aching, and confused.

“I meant what I said.” You jolt and cry at the overstimulation when he puts his cock right back inside of your raw and sensitive pussy.

“You and I own each other. Thank you letting me in. Because now,” he leans down and kisses your shoulder.

“You’re never getting rid of me.”

#love and deepspace #love and deespace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb smut #caleb x reader #caleb x you

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manifestobackshot · 1 month ago

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REPO REAPER — JAKE SIM

As a repossession agent, you’ve dealt with trouble of all sorts—anger, frustration, desperation—you’ve seen it all.

…Or so you thought, until you met trouble personified—Jake Sim. Though he misses his car’s cash payments by months at a time, perhaps he can arrange a different type of payment.

PAIRING: jake x afab reader

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

TAGS: smut, porn… what plot?, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, pretty filthy im sorry

A/N: it came to me in a dream. that’s all.

The street was quiet except for the low rumble of your tow truck’s engine as you pulled up to the shitty apartment complex, illuminated solely by the streetlights. 2012 Ford Focus. Owner: Jake Sim. The car was in decent shape—surprising, considering how far behind he was on payments.

You popped the trunk of your tow truck and hopped out, the heavy weight of your steel-toe boots hitting the ground with a thud. The leather of your repo gloves creaked as you flexed your fingers. You stretched, preparing to get this job done and over with. This part never got old—the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of reclaiming what was owed.

You hopped out and got to work hooking up the rear axle. You were seconds away from lifting it when the front door of the unit swung open.

"Hey, hey, hey—hold up!"

A guy stumbled out, barefoot and wearing nothing but a white tank and low-slung sweatpants that clung to his hips in a way that should’ve been illegal. His dark hair was tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his grin was all trouble.

"You Jake Sim?" you asked, not stopping your work.

"Yeah, that’s me." He sauntered over, running a hand through his hair like he was in a damn commercial. You took note of his demeanor, confident… with a little something else, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

"Listen, I know I’m behind, but I’ve got a way better way to settle this debt,” he said, relaxing his stance with a sense of smugness that only the boldest of men would deliver. Trouble was practically a part of your job description, and you knew that, but you hadn’t met trouble like this before.

You let your eyes wander and rolled them upon letting your gaze fall. This guy. "We’ve given plenty of notices and more than enough lenience, so unless you’ve got three months of cash in those sweatpants, your car’s getting towed.”

He leaned against the side of your truck, close enough that you caught the scent of his cologne—something warm and stupidly expensive for a guy who couldn’t pay his car note.

"See, that’s the thing," he said, voice dropping to a sinful purr. "I don’t have cash. But I do have skills." His fingers brushed your wrist. "And I’m very good at… negotiating."

For a second, you questioned what he meant by negotiating. But who are you kidding, this type of desperation is lame. Why would you lose your composure over a man like this?

You snorted. "You think I repo cars for favors?"

Jake smirked. "I think you’ve never had an offer like mine."

“...And what would that be?”

Before you could react, his hands were on your waist, pressing you back against the tow truck. His body was all hard muscle and heat, and—fuck—he knew exactly how to move.

Jake’s gaze was entirely focused on you, persistent and hot, shifting from your eyes, to your lips, and back again. Through his lashes, he held eye contact as he bit his lip, tilting his head as a smirk reappeared on his lips.

Though Jake was the one who should have been showing desperation in search of mercy regarding his car, you found yourself in that position instead. Of course, only you would you be face-to-face with some accent-wielding, sweatpants-slinging personification of temptation. Your body writhed under his touch, taking you down from a repossession agent with some sense of authority to Jake Sim’s playtoy, just for the evening.

"You let me keep my car," he murmured against your ear, "and I’ll make sure you don’t regret it."

Your breath hitched. This was unprofessional.

This was against company policy.

Fuck. This was working.

You shoved him back—weakly. "One time thing," you said, trying to sound stern. "And if you’re bad at this, I’m taking the car and your dignity."

Jake’s grin turned wolfish. "Oh, baby. I never disappoint."

You yanked the hook free from his Focus.

The moment the tow hook clattered to the pavement, Jake’s hands were on you again, his grip firm as he backed you up against the truck. His mouth crashed against yours before you could protest—not that you wanted to. The kiss was hot, demanding, his tongue sliding against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak.

He tasted like mint and something darker, something addictive. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding down to grip your hip. You could feel the hard press of him against your thigh, the way his sweatpants did nothing to hide how much he wanted this.

Between the cool exterior of the tow truck and Jake’s warmth, you softly arched in response to the kiss. You could feel the skin above his waistband, tacky—sticky, even—with his sweat, as his tank rode up as he prioritized keeping you under him. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it. His hand moved away from your hip as he hooked his finger in the denim loop around your waistband, gently pulling your hips towards his own, softly moaning against you upon feeling the pressure.

“Fuck,” you gasped when he finally pulled back, lips swollen. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

Jake smirked, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, careful to not break the focused gaze he laid upon you. “Not when I know what I want.” His voice was rough, his eyes dark with hunger. “And right now? I want you bent over the hood of my car.”

Your pulse spiked. This was reckless. Stupid. And yet, the heat pooling low in your stomach drowned out any rational thought.

“Not your car if this isn’t worth my time.”

“You know it’ll be, so behave.”

You let him spin you around, the cold metal of the Focus biting into your palms as he pressed against you from behind. Jake was unforgiving, putting the weight of his body against you.

His hands slid under your shirt, calloused fingers skimming up your stomach to your chest, teasing until you arched into his touch. He hovered his fingertips across your skin, making you writhe under him, aching for more. You moaned, feeling the soft drag of his fingers on your torso as he leaned into you, breath hot on your nape.

“That’s it,” he growled, mouth hot on your neck. “Let me hear you.”

His fingers flicked over your nipples, pinching just enough to make you whimper. You could feel his cock grinding against your ass, the friction maddening even through layers of clothing.

“Jake—”

“Tell me what you want, love,” he murmured, one hand sliding down to undo your belt with practiced ease. “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

You swallowed hard. “I want you to fuck me. Right here.”

His laugh was dark, sinful. “Knew you’d see things my way.”

In seconds, your pants were around your thighs as you stood embarrassingly eager to feel his touch again. Your hair stuck to your forehead, hot and sweaty from the encounter, as Jake placed his hand on your lower back, as to force a deeper arch from you.

“Please,” you pleaded, aching for more of him.

“Be patient,” he breathed, repositioning you against his vehicle. He moved his hand from your lower back to place both hands on your hips, squeezing the flesh of your ass, with his touch coming so dangerously close to your aching core—where you needed him most.

With one hand spreading you, Jake used his other to press his fingers into you, working you open with rough, eager strokes. You tensed around him, whimpering with every stroke that nearly molded your body to the contours of his knuckles. His fingers moved with intention—passionate, hot, and undying. The calloused tips of his fingers stroked inside you, building tension inside your already desperate core. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he curled them just right, your hips rocking back against his hand.

“So wet for me already,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You been thinking about this since you saw me?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t, not when he replaced his fingers with the thick head of his cock, teasing your entrance before pushing in with one slow, deliberate thrust, replacing your ache with a searing stretch.

“Fuck—!” Your nails scraped against the car’s paint as he filled you, stretching you in the best way. The drag of his cock as he slipped deeper into you left your mouth agape—gasping with every inch. He didn’t give you time to adjust, setting a punishing pace from the start, each snap of his hips driving you harder into the hood. He kept his rhythm as he used a free hand to push his tank all the way up, exposing his skin to the evening air.

“That’s it, take it,” he grunted, one hand gripping your hip, the other fisting in your hair. “You feel fucking perfect.”

He forced your body into a deeper arch, harsh as he forced your head back, pulling on your hair. His damp, calloused fingers were rough, gripping and digging into the flesh of your hip as he continued to pound into you, whimpering as he hit the apex of his thrusts.

The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with your ragged moans, the street still empty but feeling dangerously exposed. It only made it hotter—the risk, the way his breath hitched every time you clenched around him.

He indulged in the sight before him, taking in the way you involuntarily drove your hips back to meet him halfway. He saw—no, felt—the desperation and need in the way you fucked him right back, bending and curving your body to make him reach deeper, closer. Watching himself disappear inside you with every stroke and thrust of his pelvis made him groan, almost whimper, as he felt the ache within you coming to fruition. The sensation of you gripping around his cock, as if to milk him dry, from his base rolling all the way to his tip, forced his bottom lip between his teeth.

Jake released your locks from his grasp—placing both hands on either side of your hips with bruising force—to direct his focus on tearing into you, so deliciously deep that you’d do whatever he’d ask of you. He worked the soft flesh of your ass, using the demanding press of his thumbs to spread you, allowing himself to fuck into you deeper. He hissed, desperate fervor apparent as you pulled him in, forcing him to bottom out against your cervix.

“You like taking me, baby?” he asked, to which you could only whimper in response.

Jake removed one hand from your hip, raising it before striking down on your ass, causing you to clench around him again. He slid his hand, calloused and cold, up the small of your back and towards the nape of your neck. Jake leaned in, pressing his hips impossibly deep against your womb, maneuvering his hand around to your mouth, putting one thumb behind your bottom row of teeth to pull your head back, forcing an agonizing—yet pleasuring—arch in your spine.

“Answer me,” he growled, anticipating more than a lame whimper this time.

“I’m—”

“Use your words.”

“—Close,” you panted, the coil in your stomach tightening. “Jake, I’m—”

He swore, his thrusts turning erratic. “Come for me,” he demanded. “Let me feel it.”

His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles just as he angled his hips to hit that spot inside you. The roughness of his fingers stroked and pressed against you—pace and force increasing—filling you with intensely growing tension. Your vision whited out as you shattered, his name a broken cry on your lips, twitching around him as to coax him into following suit. He followed right after, burying himself deep with a groan, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he spilled inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the weight of him pressed against your back. Then Jake pulled out with a satisfied sigh, careful to not make too much of a mess, before turning you to face him. His smirk was downright smug.

“So,” he said, thumb brushing your swollen lips. “We good on that debt?”

You shoved him weakly, but you were already reaching for your belt. “One time thing,” you reminded him.

Jake’s fingers traced the curve of your hip, his touch possessive even now. His smirk deepened as he watched you fumble with your belt, his gaze dark with amusement and something far hungrier.

“One time thing,” he repeated, voice rough, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, “if you say so.”

The bank’s notice was glaringly clear: Final Warning – Repossession Authorized.

You sighed, crumpling the paper in your fist. Jake fucking Sim. Of course he hadn’t paid. Of course they were sending you back.

The memory of last month—his hands, his mouth, the way he’d bent you over the hood of his goddamn Focus—flashed hot behind your eyelids. You’d told yourself it was a one-time thing. A mistake. But the way your pulse kicked up as you pulled onto his street said otherwise.

His car was parked in the same spot, gleaming under the dim streetlight like a taunt. You killed the engine, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles ached. Professional. Just do your job.

And professional you were, working swiftly in the quiet veil of the unassuming evening. Just procedure, you thought, everything’s normal this time.

You were halfway through hooking the tow when his accented, familiar voice cut through the dark.

“Back so soon, sweetheart?”

Jake leaned against the porch railing, shirtless this time, sweatpants hanging low on his hips once again, teasing you with a peek of his adonis belt. Even in the shadows, you could see the smirk.

“You’re three months behind,” you snapped, refusing to let your eyes drop lower than his collarbone another time. “Bank wants the car. Again.”

He pushed off the railing, strolling toward you like he had all the time in the world. “Funny. I was just thinking about you.”

Your breath hitched as he stepped into your space, the heat of him searing even through the night air. Jake’s mere presence reignited the pit of fire in your core, his stare scorchingly intimidating. His fingers brushed yours where they still clutched the tow chain.

“You gonna take what’s mine again?” His voice was gravel, rough enough to make your thighs press together, seeking pressure.

“Car’s not yours,” you responded, trembling and nervous from being in this familiar setting with a familiar face once more.

Jake progressed in your direction, closing in on you. “Are you here just to take from me, or?”

“Or what?”

“...Or you wanna negotiate?”

You swallowed hard. “There’s nothing to negotiate.”

Jake’s laugh was dark. “Bullshit.”

Then his hands were on your waist, spinning you until your back hit the car’s door, a familiar ache following. His mouth crashed into yours, all teeth and tongue, his hips pinning you in place. You gasped, fingers twisting in his hair as he bit your lip hard enough to sting.

“You give in so easy,” he said, breathless between hungry kisses, “I like that.” His body was hot, the slight sheen of sweat glistening under the dim streetlight. He was close enough to press against you, the sensation of his sticky skin against yours breaking any remaining composure or dignity you had remaining. His appetite for you was evident in the way he possessively held your waist, bringing your body closer to his as if to claim you as his.

“Missed this,” he growled against your mouth, one hand sliding down to hike your leg over his hip. “Missed how fucking desperate you get for me.”

You should’ve shoved him off. Should’ve just towed the car and left. But his palm was already cupping you through your pants, his thumb pressing just there, and—

“Fuck,” you whimpered, arching into his touch.

Jake chuckled, low and wicked. “That’s the plan.”

Before you could protest, he dropped to his knees, reminding you that you couldn’t even if you wanted to. Your breath caught as his fingers first hooked into your belt loops, forcing you closer to him with nearly enough strength to rip them off. He unhooked his fingers to close the gap by swiftly reaching for the waistband of your pants, yanking them down with your panties in one rough pull. The night air kissed your bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his breath between your legs.

“Jake—!”

His tongue dragged through your folds, slow and filthy, and your head thudded back against the car. His eyes were shut, brows knitted together as if to keep his composure—which was the last thing that could be true of him at that moment. He groaned like he was the one getting off, his hands selfishly gripping your thighs to keep you open as he licked into you like a man starving.

“Taste even better than I remembered,” he muttered, before sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking.

Your knees buckled. His arm hooked around your hips, holding you up as he devoured you, his tongue circling, flicking, driving you toward the edge with ruthless precision. Jake traced his tongue around your clit, pressure firm and unrelenting. His kisses to your core had intent, greedy as if he’s been without you for years.

Your taste on his tongue was intoxicating, driving him further into madness as he delved deeper into you, devouring you in every sense of the word. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, drunken in the flavor of you. Relishing every ounce of stress and frustration—most of which was his fault—made him wish you’d have a shitty day everyday, just so he can taste it on you. Jake held you closer, squeezing you to bring you closer to his face, to taste your sweat.

You tugged at his hair, torn between pushing him away and grinding into his face. Every pull of his locks elicited a whimper from him, prompting him to nearly give himself lockjaw with the way he ravaged you. The sight was deliciously alluring, Jake’s face buried between your thighs, his mouth latched on your core as he pushed against the force of you pulling his hair. His brows stayed furrowed, twitching as his cheeks hollowed before diving back into you, more desperate and frenzied every time.

“Gonna come already?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to watch you squirm. “That all you got?”

An aching moan—no words—is all you mustered as his nose rubbed against your clit again, allowing you to grind against him as he fervently made a mess of you. The auditory blend of lewd squelches, Jake’s whimpers, your gasps, and his mouth against your cunt was impossibly perverse, lust permeating every stroke of his tongue. You could hear your wetness by the lewd sounds coming from him, lapping, sucking, at your core with both desperation and control.

You whimpered, hips jerking. “Jake—”

Jake’s attention wavered for a second, taking in how pretty you looked with his mouth on you. He pulled back again, paying special attention to the way your mouth hung open and eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of his mouth. With a smirk, he heard you whine at the sudden absence of his mouth, he took special care to support and stabilize you against the car. He pried your thighs open, savoring your amazed gasp, as he spit on your cunt, diving back into your core to indulge in—to taste—the sin he loved so much.

His tongue was inside you, curling just right, making you involuntarily gasp in reaction. The sight was obscene—pornographic, even—as he mouth-fucked you so deep that you could see stars. Dazed with pleasure, you shattered with a cry, your fingers fisting in his hair as pleasure ripped through you. He didn’t let up, licking you through it until you were shaking, oversensitive and gasping.

Only then did he pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood. His smirk was downright sinful.

“Now,” he said, crowding you against the car again, his erection pressing into your stomach, “you wanna talk about that payment plan, or is the third time the charm?”

You were fucked. In every sense of the word.

(And you definitely weren’t towing his car tonight.)

#enhypen smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen x reader #jake x reader

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izanacore · 3 months ago

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“after hours” | bonten men x reader

mini-collection 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: as a bonten executive, y/n treats hooking up with bonten men after meetings like just another part of the job—routine, effortless, and far too easy to stop.

characters: manjiro “mikey” sano, haruchiyo sanzu, ran haitani, rindou haitani, hajime kokonoi, fem!reader

warnings: smut (18+), explicit sexual content, multiple partners, rough sex, anal sex, semi-public sex, spanking, spitting, cumplay, hair pulling, degradation, choking, dirty talk, objectification, power imbalance, manipulation, possessiveness, markings, orgasm control, overstimulation, light humiliation, drug usage, alcohol usage, smoking, non-consensual image sharing, mean sanzu, reader being a bitch, bonten men being menaces, toxic dynamics, dubious consent (consensual but with coercive undertones), exhibitionism (y/n being watched), implied criminal activity, unsafe situations, minor aftercare but mostly neglect, mild sadism, and very filthy vibe.

notes: wrote this out of nowhere tbh. this is very flithy. i also wanna say that i really think the haitani brothers are sweet when it comes to their girl (sometimes) and not the manipulative womanizer type, but that’s just my hc (is it canon? idk!). and please, i’ve written every content warning i could think of (i’m considerate like that), so please read at your own risk. again, this is flithy. anyway, enjoy! credits to the fanart i used above.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

part 1

the private lounge smelled of expensive liquor, sweat, and sin. dim lights cast shadows over the leather couches, the sound of bass thumping through the floors beneath them. it was routine now—business first, then pleasure. bonten’s little after-meeting tradition. drinking, getting high, and letting loose like they owned the world. because, well, they did.

y/n lounged beside ran, her legs draped over his lap, glass in hand, his arm snug around her waist like she belonged there. and she did—at least for tonight. she took a sip, the burn of alcohol making her hum before her eyes flickered to kakucho, who was already standing.

“c’mon, kakucho, you’ve never joined our after-meeting sessions.” she tilted her head, pouting before smirking. “i’ll let you play with my tits.” then she drank, the ice clinking against the glass.

kakucho exhaled sharply. “fuck off, y/n. i’m going.”

she clicked her tongue. “boo. god, you’re so boring.”

he ignored her completely, turning to mocchi and takeomi. “c’mon, we have to take care of the clients.”

y/n groaned, rolling her eyes as she leaned further into ran. “you too, mocchi? takeomi?” she huffed, fingers tapping against the rim of her glass before she suddenly grinned. “ugh, fine, go ahead. you just missed a chance of getting a free blowjob!” her voice rang through the room, teasing, shameless.

the three of them didn’t even flinch. used to her mouth, to the filth that spilled from it like it was a normal thing to say. kakucho shut the door without looking back, and y/n simply scoffed before taking another sip.

not like she had sex with everyone… well. okay, maybe something did happen between her and the haitani brothers. and sanzu. and even… mikey. but it was casual. nothing that could affect their work at bonten. just a way to blow off steam, to release tension in the most primal way possible. they were just having fun.

“why don’t you blow me instead, y/n?” sanzu’s voice cut through the music, lazy and dripping in amusement. “i’ll fuck that pretty mouth of yours so you’ll finally shut the fuck up.” a smirk played on his lips as ran and rindou chuckled beside him.

y/n turned to glare at sanzu, already flipping him off before she suddenly gasped dramatically.

“mikey!!!” she whined, pushing off ran’s lap and making her way to the man sitting at the head of the lounge. she plopped down onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face against his shoulder. “they’re ganging up on me again.”

mikey didn’t react. barely spared her a glance as he pulled a cigarette from his pack, tucking it between his lips.

but don’t get it wrong. y/n was his favorite. she got the special princess treatment—more than anyone else in bonten. sure, she was a little unhinged, maybe even on sanzu’s level, but that’s what made mikey keep her around. the smartest of them all. she kills just like sanzu. no remorse.

and without thinking, as if her body had memorized the action, she reached into the pocket of her blazer, flicked her lighter open, and brought the flame to the end of mikey’s cigarette.

mikey inhaled, the tip burning red, before exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

the lounge was drowning in smoke and sin, the bass-heavy music vibrating through the floor. drinks kept pouring, the air thick with the scent of liquor and something dangerously indulgent.

then koko spoke up, tossing a small package onto the table. “here’s the one you wanted, sanzu.”

sanzu’s eyes lit up as he snatched it, tearing it open with practiced ease. “finally. some good fucking shit after dealing with those annoying-ass clients.”

he poured the fine powder onto the glass table, leaning in to take his share. the rush was instant, his pupils dilating as he let out a satisfied sigh. “fuck. that hit nice.” he turned to ran, waving a hand toward the powder. “try this. better than last time.”

ran didn’t need to be told twice. he leaned down, did the same, and so did the rest of them.

glasses clinked, slurred cheers filled the air. everyone was too high, too drunk, too far gone.

y/n swayed with the music, lost in the haze, her body moving on instinct. she pressed back against ran, rolling her hips as his hands found her waist, his breath hot against her neck.

she should slow down.

she was too high for this.

but fuck it.

pushing off ran, she stumbled toward the table, dropping to her knees as she reached for another line of powder—

only to have her head yanked back by a fist in her hair.

“enough of that, princess. try this instead.”

sanzu’s voice was a slow drawl, and before she could react, he slipped a pill between her lips, fingers pressing against her tongue.

y/n didn’t even flinch. she held his gaze as she sucked on them, slow and teasing, letting her tongue drag along his fingers before finally swallowing. then she stuck her tongue out, showing him the evidence, eyes dark with amusement.

“did you just get hard from me kneeling in front of you?” she taunted, lips curling into a smirk.

his grip on her hair tightened in an instant.

“fuckin’ brat.”

before she could blink, he yanked her up, shoving her backward—straight into rindou.

“shit.” rindou caught her with ease, her back pressed against his chest, his hands settling low on her hips. she could feel the way his breath hitched, the way his fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress.

sanzu’s grin was sharp, eyes blown wide. “and so what if i’m hard just looking at you?” his voice was low, edged with something dark. “you’re practically a walking sex toy.”

his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, slow, deliberate—

but y/n slapped his hand away without hesitation, shooting him a glare.

then she raised her middle finger at him, smirking. “get out of my sight, haru.”

sanzu just chuckled, dropping onto the couch with his legs spread wide, licking his teeth.

the heat in the room was suffocating, a mix of smoke, alcohol, and the lingering haze of ecstasy.

“fuck, it’s getting hot,” y/n muttered, slipping off her blazer, revealing the curve-hugging dress beneath.

rindou was quick to help, fingers grazing her bare shoulders as he pressed lazy kisses along her skin. his hands moved lower, squeezing her tits without hesitation. she barely reacted—she was used to this by now. at least with them. the haitani brothers and sanzu had a habit of touching her whenever they pleased. during meetings, in passing, anywhere they wanted.

ran grabbed a bottle of whiskey, his grin sharp as he gripped her jaw. without warning, he tilted the bottle, pouring the liquor past her lips. she swallowed what she could, but the excess spilled, running down her chin, soaking into her dress.

he chuckled, taking a swig himself before leaning in to lick the trail of whiskey from her neck, down to the exposed curve of her cleavage.

“fuck, ran…” the sensation sent a shiver down her spine, a moan slipping out before she could stop it.

her hands found his face, pulling him inches from hers, eyes dark with something dangerous. “you ruined my dress.”

ran’s tongue flicked over his lips, gaze burning. “if i get to fuck this body, i’d gladly ruin all your clothes.” his fingers trailed up her thighs, teasing, promising.

rindou’s grip tightened on her chest, his other hand slipping lower, brushing over the damp fabric between her legs. “shit, y/n, you’re already so fucking wet.”

before she could respond, ran hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her thighs. with a smirk, he tucked the flimsy fabric into his pocket, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

her breath hitched as rindou’s fingers pressed against her, rubbing slow circles over her core before one slipped inside, stretching her with ease.

“ugh… rindou…” her hips moved on instinct, grinding against his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair. rindou groaned against her neck, rutting against her from behind.

ran pushed her dress higher, his eyes darkening at the sight.

“rin, more, please…” her voice was a breathy whimper.

but before rindou could give her what she wanted, sanzu shoved ran aside took his place.

“move over, greedy fucks.” his grin was wicked as his fingers plunged inside her without warning, matching rindou’s pace.

they weren’t in sync. they didn’t care. her pleasure wasn’t the point—just the filth of it all, the way they could have her, touch her, ruin her. they were already fucked in the head. what was a little more filth?

ran, scowling from the side, ran a hand through his hair. “fuck you, man. we’re all horny here. at least share the fucking pussy.”

sanzu ignored him, curling his fingers deeper, faster, rindou doing the same.

ran had enough. he knelt between y/n’s legs, tongue flicking over her clit, adding another layer of sensation that had her gasping.

“fuck… slow down… ugh… m-mikey… want you too…” her grip tightened—one hand fisting ran’s hair, the other clutching sanzu’s wrist.

rindou’s hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her dizzy. his tongue dragged over her cheek, hot and possessive, while sanzu spit onto her chest, watching it glisten against her skin.

koko, who had been uninterested up until now, finally scoffed, shaking his head. “damn, y/n. didn’t know you were this much of a slut.”

he stood, grabbed the whiskey bottle, and took a slow swig, his sharp eyes lingering on the filthy sight before him. with a dark chuckle, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling a satisfied sigh—like he was merely indulging in a show put on for his amusement.

she barely heard him. the pleasure was too much, too consuming. her body tensed, and with one last sharp cry, she came, soaking the hands still working her open.

ran didn’t hesitate. he shoved sanzu, grabbing her thighs and pulling her to his mouth, licking up every drop of her release.

“ran, fuck…” she whined, tugging at his hair.

he groaned against her, the vibrations making her jolt. he gave her one last slow lick before pulling back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“shit, this will always be the best pussy i’ve ever tasted.”

y/n grinned, pulling him close again, cupping his jaw before pressing her lips to his.

out of all the men in bonten, it was different with the haitani brothers. whether it was ran or rindou, their touch always felt possessive. they weren’t just fucking her. they were claiming her. and they didn’t do that with just anyone.

ran pulled back, smirking. “gonna take a break for a bit, y/n. need some good shit first.” he gestured toward the drugs. “i’ll fuck you later.”

y/n bit her lip, grinning. “i’ll be waiting for your cock deep inside me.”

y/n leaned back against rindou’s chest, hiding her face against his neck, breath still uneven. rindou didn’t react much—just took a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up while letting her rest against him. the room was still thick with heat, the air buzzing with something filthy, something intoxicating.

“boss, you just gonna sit there and watch?” sanzu suddenly asked, his voice dripping with amusement. he turned his head toward mikey, who had been silent the entire time, observing from his seat. “wanna fuck her first?”

mikey exhaled slowly, picking up his cigarette from the ashtray. “make her a mess for me.”

sanzu’s grin was wicked. “you heard him, y/n. i’m gonna make a mess out of you. that means i’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy until my cum is oozing out of your fucking cunt.”

y/n shot him a glare. “can’t you just fuck someone else downstairs? you always go hard on me.”

sanzu leaned in, his nose brushing against hers, his voice dropping. “but you like it when i’m rough, right?”

her lips curled into a smirk. “right.”

the next second, their mouths crashed together, the kiss deep, hungry, desperate. sanzu groaned into her mouth, gripping the back of her neck to pull her closer, tongues tangling in a fight for dominance.

rindou, still smoking behind her, didn’t even flinch. he didn’t care—just let her grind against him as he exhaled a slow cloud of smoke.

between kisses, sanzu muttered, “wanna feel your mouth, but i’m already too fucking hard to wait.”

with that, he unbuckled his belt, freeing his cock, and y/n wrapped her fingers around him, sliding his length along her soaked slit, teasing.

“bitch, you really like to tease, huh?” sanzu growled.

before she could respond, he thrust inside her without warning, pulling a sharp, loud moan from her throat.

“haru—!”

but before the sound could echo, rindou clamped a hand over her mouth, his lips brushing against her ear as he muttered lazily, “shhh… i’m trying to remember something, y/n. don’t be too loud.”

as if sanzu wasn’t already fucking her into oblivion, as if he wasn’t buried to the hilt inside her, stretching her open like he owned her.

“haru, god—right there, right there!” y/n gasped, nails digging into sanzu’s arms as he fucked into her, relentless and precise. sometimes, sanzu was considerate. sometimes.

rindou, who had been watching behind her, finally leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “you can take another one, right?” his voice was low, taunting. “just like how you were when ran and i fucked you?”

her head lolled back against his shoulder, body already trembling. “gonna be too much, rin,” she mumbled, barely able to form the words.

rindou wasn’t having it. “i don’t care.”

before she could even process it, he was lifting her up slightly, adjusting her onto his lap. the sound of his belt unbuckling was the only warning she got before he spit into his palm, lazily coating his cock before pressing it against her.

“riiiiiin!!” her voice broke into a sob as he pushed inside, stretching her open with no real prep. she wasn’t ready for it, not after how deep sanzu had already been, but rindou wasn’t in the mood to wait.

he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

a tear slipped down her cheek. sanzu caught it before it could fall completely, gripping her jaw and pressing her cheeks together. “not so tough now, are we?”

her only response was to clench down around him, intentionally squeezing sanzu’s cock.

“fuck, y/n…” sanzu groaned, eyes rolling back for a second before he fucked into her harder.

rindou, ever so casual, took a long drag from his cigarette, lazily exhaling smoke into the air. when he finally finished, ran—who had been watching the whole time—wordlessly reached over, taking the cigarette from his brother like it was second nature.

rindou’s now free hands slid over y/n’s chest, groping her as he thrusted up into her. sanzu, on the verge of cumming, pulled out just in time, stroking himself over her skin.

“wanna paint you with my cum,” he muttered, and then, with a few jerks, he spilled over her tits, the warm mess dripping down her body as rindou continued fucking her.

“ew, man, fuck you. your cum got on my hand,” rindou complained, though he didn’t slow down in the slightest.

sanzu only chuckled, licking his lips as he admired the sight in front of him—y/n, covered in his cum, still getting wrecked on rindou’s cock.

he was already getting hard again, tempted to go another round, but before he could even open his mouth, ran stretched out from where he was sitting and drawled, “oi, it’s my turn.”

sanzu clicked his tongue but didn’t argue, adjusting his pants before plopping down on the couch beside rindou, who was still fucking into y/n like he had all the time in the world. sanzu grabbed himself a drink, smirking as he watched.

rindou’s fingers, still slick with sanzu’s release, smeared the mess onto y/n’s dress. “clean it up,” he murmured, bringing his fingers to her lips. obediently, she parted them, tongue gliding over his digits, licking up the filth.

ran watched with a smirk, his gaze dark. “rin, want her on all fours.”

without hesitation, rindou pulled out of y/n, leaving her empty and whimpering. a strong but measured push sent her toward ran, who caught her with ease.

rindou kneeled on the couch beside them, while ran—ever the gentleman, at least to her—helped y/n into position. with slow, teasing fingers, he unzipped her dress, grazing her bare skin before peeling the fabric off her trembling body. soft kisses trailed down her spine, sending shivers through her.

“mmm, ran…” y/n whimpered, her voice breathy.

he chuckled, the sound dark, as he unbuckled his belt and freed his cock. the teasing didn’t last long—ran lined himself up and rubbed his tip against her slick folds. behind her, rindou’s voice cut through the haze. “stick out your tongue.”

she obeyed instantly, lips parting, and rindou tapped his cock against her tongue, smearing precum along her lips.

ran, usually so composed, wasn’t gentle when he finally sank into her. his control shattered the moment her tight heat clenched around him, and he slammed into her with a force that had her crying out. he wasn’t sweet now. he was fucking her like a man starved, like she was something to ruin.

“fuck, you’re squeezing me so good,” he groaned, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts.

the rhythm of his movements rocked her forward, and rindou was quick to take advantage. fingers twisting in her hair, he yanked her head back just enough to keep her still. “keep your head still, y/n.”

then he shoved his cock past her lips.

rindou was rough, using her mouth like a toy, fucking her throat with no regard for how she choked and gagged around him. “wanna go all the way in,” he muttered, shoving deeper, groaning as she struggled to breathe. drool spilled from her lips, dripping down her chin in messy, glistening strings.

“look at you,” rindou taunted, his grip tightening in her hair. “so fucking messy and pathetic for us.”

y/n whimpered around him, and rindou groaned at the vibrations against her throat. ran’s hand snaked between her legs, fingers finding her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. the added pleasure had her legs shaking beneath him.

rindou, already on edge, cursed under his breath. “shit, y/n—gonna cum.”

with a few more thrusts, he spilled into her mouth, the warm, bitter taste coating her tongue. some dripped past her lips, but rindou wasn’t having that. with his thumb, he scooped up the mess, pressing it back against her lips.

“swallow it for me, baby.”

her lips wrapped around his thumb, sucking obediently as she swallowed every drop.

rindou’s expression softened slightly, fingers brushing over her cheek. when she instinctively leaned into his touch, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away to fix himself.

but ran wasn’t done yet.

ran, the only one still fucking her, suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her flush against his chest. his other hand slipped between her legs, fingers rubbing slow circles against her swollen clit. his arm caged around her neck, keeping her in place as he buried his face against her heated skin, groaning into the curve of her shoulder.

“fuck, y/n. you’re so wet, you feel how i’m sliding easily in you right now?” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. ran was drunk on her—on the way her body swallowed him up, on the way she clenched around him like she never wanted to let go. “you’re sucking me in so good. like your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.”

y/n arched her back, head falling onto ran’s shoulder as her mind clouded with nothing but pleasure. he fucked her so good—better than anyone. he knew exactly how to make her fall apart, how to tease, how to make her melt. unlike sanzu, who only cared about chasing his own high, ran knew how to take his time. how to ruin her just right.

his thrusts grew rougher, more erratic, his pace faltering as he neared his end. y/n could feel it. she was close, too.

chasing her own release, she turned her head, lips brushing against his neck. her tongue darted out, licking, kissing, sucking at the sensitive skin, and ran groaned deep from his chest. neither of them cared that the others were still in the room, too lost in the moment, too caught up in the pleasure of it all.

y/n’s moans came louder, sharper, and ran cursed under his breath, snapping his hips harder, faster.

without warning, pleasure surged through her, and she came, her walls pulsing tight around ran’s cock. the sensation dragged him under with her, his grip on her waist tightening as he gritted out, “shit, y/n… wanna fill you up. fuck—ugh, fuck—”

his hips stuttered, cock twitching, before he finally spilled inside her, warmth flooding deep. he rocked into her a few more times, slower now, riding out the pleasure.

y/n gasped for breath, body slumping against ran as exhaustion settled over her. he carefully pulled out, hands steadying her as he helped her plop onto the couch, her body spent. she laid there, stomach flat against the cushions, trying to pull herself together.

ran tucked himself back into his pants, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket. he lit it, exhaling smoke as he sat beside her. she barely stirred, too exhausted to move. instead, she lazily turned her head, resting it on his lap. still naked. still messy.

sanzu, the crazy bastard he was, grinned. he crouched beside y/n, pulling out a small packet of powder and pouring it down the curve of her back. then, with no warning, he leaned in and licked it off.

no one reacted. they were used to sanzu’s antics by now. y/n barely flinched, too tired to care.

but sanzu wasn’t done. he grabbed his phone, angling it just right. the screen flashed.

he smirked down at the picture—y/n, naked, messy, cum still dripping from her thighs. with a few taps, he sent it to their group chat.

his next message tagged the three who left earlier.

sanzu: what y’all missed out on.

the replies were instant.

takeomi: man, should’ve stayed there. kakucho, this is your fault.

kakucho: 👍

mocchi: fuck??

sanzu laughed, tossing his phone aside. he plopped down on the floor, resting his head against y/n’s ass like she was nothing more than a pillow.

he sighed in content, then turned to koko. “aren’t you gonna try her?”

koko scoffed. “i’m good, man. don’t wanna stick my dick where all your dicks just went.”

sanzu only shrugged. “your loss. this is literally the best pussy i’ve ever had. heaven.”

the room settled into a lazy silence. some were high, some were drunk, and some were simply too tired to move.

then sanzu broke the quiet again. “boss, your turn now?”

mikey had been there the whole time, watching from the shadows, unreadable as always. he finally stood, eyes cold.

“dress her up,” he ordered. “we’re going home.”

sanzu smirked. “you guys heard the boss.”

y/n whined, face still buried in ran’s lap. “but mikey… i’m too tired.” her pout was audible. “this is the first time you guys all went at me together. that’s not fair.”

sanzu rolled his eyes, already tired of her bratty attitude. “who do you think you are, not following boss’ orders? get up.”

he grabbed her, yanking her away from ran. their faces were inches apart now.

“i should’ve fucked mikey instead of you,” she huffed, eyes narrowing.

sanzu’s grip tightened on her ass, pulling her closer. “don’t act like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat earlier for me.”

before y/n could snap back, mikey’s voice cut through the tension.

“enough.”

sanzu let go.

rindou, quieter than the rest, grabbed her dress, helping her slip it back on. his fingers brushed over her shoulders, lips pressing soft kisses against her skin. a rare moment of tenderness.

y/n sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

mikey didn’t say another word. he turned on his heel, walking out without a goodbye.

y/n barely managed to stand, legs shaking, but she pushed herself to the door. “bye, boys!”

no one answered.

she followed mikey outside, slipping into the passenger seat of his car.

oh, she was in for a long night.

start | part 2

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rinneroraito · 11 months ago

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L x Reader: Reader is wearing a shirt with a boob window, suggestive, he's touchy, 600+ words

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Ever since you came in the headquarters L couldn't take his eyes off of you. Not when you're wearing that shirt with a boob window, the clear line of your cleavage completely visible. And as if that wasn't enough, he could also see that you weren't wearing a bra underneath that shirt.

You went about your duties, L mentally sighing in relief that no one else had come into the office that night to ogle at you. He's delighted, though. It's indulgent, the way your breasts bounced when you walked, how the material of your clothing hugged your curves. He was more motivated to finish his work just so he could call you over to him. But you beat him to it, and you sit beside him on the couch (he sits there most of the time now because he likes it when you sit next to him). He momentarily stops typing on his laptop, bringing his wide and curious eyes up to your direction.

"Everything alright on your end, L?"

You lean towards his direction and his gaze immediately travels down to that oh, so enticing cat-head shaped window.

"Mostly done. Y/N, is the wardrobe idea a deliberate choice to distract me?"

A devious smile creeps up your face and you straighten yourself up, heaving your chest out towards him. L's eyes are glued to them, to you, and it's palpable how much he just wants to reach out and touch.

"Nothing escapes you, does it?" You let out a chuckle as you scoot yourself closer to him. "Yea, I wanted to see how you'd react. And I like it when you make eyes at me."

L closes the laptop and brings a thumb up to his teeth, chewing thoughtfully at his nail as he stares.

"You've accomplished that, well done. May I?" He finally asks.

"Yeah, go ahead."

He reaches out, long slender fingers extending towards you until they meet your skin. Your breath hitches a little when he starts to trace the outline of the opening. His touch was featherlike, barely there, teasing.

"It's nice," L muses, adjusting his position on the couch so he's now facing you. He hooks a finger down the end of the window on your shirt, testing the material before pulling it down.

"It's stretchy but not to the point where it would reveal more when yanked on."

"Good observation," you reply, delighted by his interest in such a simple thing as an opening on your shirt.

"But, it's enough for easy access," he shoves his hand inside the window, cupping your breast in his hand. "So soft..."

"You like that?"

"I like you," he replies, looking up at you with those big eyes that seemed to know everything yet still had so much to discover. The words bring heat up to your cheeks, a reaction he's always pleased to see.

"Do you want to do it here..?" You ask, wondering if he could feel your heart race through your chest that he had started to squeeze gently.

"That's a very enticing idea," L says as he flicks his thumb over your hardened nipple, eliciting a gasp from you. There's a cocky quality to the way he hummed at your reaction, and he continues his thought.

"Maybe a quick one, I still have some data to sort."

With his free hand, he pulls you closer, diving into the window on your shirt where he still had his hand. He presses his lips over your exposed skin, and you swear you heard him chuckle when you exhale raggedly.

"And then we can do more after I'm done."

#l lawliet #death note #death note l #whipquip #l death note #l my beloved #oc x canon #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet x y/n #l lawliet x you #l lawliet smut #l x reader #l x y/n #l x you #L

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rjunhuang · 3 months ago

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how the harry potter boys would react to you hooking up with someone else.

featuring: harry potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, fred weasley, george weasley. part two.

warnings: lowercase intended. gender neutral reader. informal writing?? they're a bit toxic.

note: can you believe i wrote this in 2023? it was an unfinished draft featuring more characters. i might make a part two w them included. also i do NOT like draco lol so i'm a little biased when i write him. honestly send in some requests on what other prompts you'd like to see w them

divider by enchanthings | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

harry! he'd highkey be so salty about it. at first, he's just completely off put and hurt by the thought of you going out with someone else. HE THOUGHT Y'ALL HAD SOMETHING GOING ON </3

his literal initial reaction would be, "oh.. montague, huh.. hm uh.." before walking away from the conversation all together.

if you're a dumbass, you'd assumed he's just incredibly awkward when it came to hearing about other people's relationships, but supportive nonetheless. oh, you're wrong though. he walked off because he had no idea whether to be angry at himself for not pulling any sooner or at you for choosing someone slimey as graham montague to swap spit with or maybe just montague himself.

the longer this fling lasted, the more comfortable harry would be about expressing his distaste on the whole relationship. he'd given you lectures about how you shouldn't like those type of slytherins. you'd probably lost track on how many times he had indirectly called montague ugly.

he would visibly show attitude whenever montague interrupted a conversation between you two. eye rolled and scowled like crazy, but he doesn't want to step the line as he's just seen as a friend by you —

"hey, mate, can't you see i'm trying to have a chat with her?"

he'd have dreams about hexing the shit out of graham though. maybe he'd slyly done it in the middle of class when no one's looking too.

if you accuse harry of doing so, he'd simply just shrug, "don't look at me." but would add a silent, "he had it coming though."

it's like a silent warfare between him and montague soon enough. both of them would be throwing attitude around when you're lowkey oblivious to it all. harry won, obviously, and this would be the breaking point - montague had enough of dealing with harry so he'd just ended things with you. of course, harry's going to comfort you if you do get sad about it —

"i just don't know why he'd do this out of nowhere." you sulk under the hold of harry, both sitting on an empty hallway's staircase. harry has his arm wrapped around you, rubbing your shoulder. "yeah, wonder why.."

he'd had a massive ego boost knowing he was the reason graham montague won't go near you anymore. literally would have to hide his smirk the entire time when comforting you. but he wouldn't be harry potter if he wasn't ending it with a snarky comment. he's not sure whether you'd slap or kiss him for it, but he surely wouldn't mind it being both.

once you and harry finally ended up together, the thought of montague wouldn't even cross his mind. he wouldn't care less about some random troll-looking fool. probably didn't even notice the dirty looks from montague because his eyes are on you. you had his undivided attention.

ron! he'd thought it's some sick, twisted joke. you'd told him the news that you're hooking up with cormac and just watched ron's face morph from being mortified to plain old disgusted. regarding situations like these, i think ron is a bit emotionally immature so he definitely wouldn't react well.

it had been saturday morning and almost everyone fifth year and above were recovering from a wild friday night common room party. that was the first night you hooked up with mclaggen and this morning, on the way to the great hall, he had pulled you aside to suggest making it a common occurrence — "some fun, no need for any strings attached." were his words. you had brought this up in the table during breakfast when hermione pointed out your flushed expression. the news leaves everyone shocked, but most especially ron. hermione had opened her mouth to begin reasoning with you, "i don't thin—" "THAT'S DISGUSTING!" ron wouldn't even beat around the bush, cutting off hermione. his mouth would be full with scrambled eggs and toast since he had stopped bothering to chew the moment you mentioned the word 'hooked up'. you'd mutter back a petty, "bold coming from the git with his mouth full." obviously hurt by his words.

it only worsened from that point onwards. the beautiful friendship you had with ron would crumble in a matter of time. it's constant fights with you two, ron's almost waiting for a reason to scowl or scoff whenever you're around. good luck even mentioning cormac in front of him, he'd just burst. the jealousy was so undeniably obvious yet you'd be so caught up in the anger of all of it to even realise. had it been someone less athletic than cormac, ron would've jumped him the moment he found out.

he'd be a petty little bitch but all the dramatics are to hide his insecurity. of course you'd chosen the conventionally attractive hunk over him. he'd be pretty rough on himself because of it; it's pure heartbreak for him. he'd never admit it but he's cried once or twice after storming off from a fight with you.

the end of your friendship with him would be in a final argument. merlin knows how it started, you never do. but almost a month into your fling with mclaggen, you've grown tired of ron's immaturity. so this time, you ask him.

"why are you even so pressed about this?!" you'd shout to ron. to which he'd counter with, "because he's a dim-witted fool who's only going to hurt you!" the frustration was unbearable as you lick your dry lips, raking a hand through your messy locks. ron is standing opposite to you, chest heaving from the intensity of the situation, yet he shamelessly takes a glance at your lips. "then if you're such an expert at this, tell me who i deserve to be wit—" ron must have a knack for interrupting others because he pulls you into a kiss, frowning as he does so. it's his final desperation for you to just hear him out. and you do, you kiss back and you're hit with the original passion you've always felt for him that these fights had blinded from you.

it's the end of your friendship and the beginning of a romance.

draco! draco's love language is definitely cliche bullying. without a doubt, he doesn't know how to show affection to anyone at all so you two would definitely be enemies of some sort. i think he'd lowkey be oblivious to the fact that he's straight up mean to you but you've literally had enough of it. you'd had a crush on him since your first year together probably and eventually you caught his eye as well — except for all the wrong reasons. he grew a knack for constantly belittling you in some kind of way even remotely possible to him. though, in his eyes, he always saw it as flirting and you being into all of it. you accepted the attention for what it was and grew to expect his taunts during classes. shamelessly, you did enjoy the fights the two of you shared. however, 'banter' could only last for so long and you eventually grew insecure of the words spat from malfoy. your friends encouraged you to move on and you finally decided to take their word. you supposed you had a type for slytherins, seeing how harper soon enough came into your life. he was a good distraction from malfoy to the point that even the (apparently natural) platinum blond took notice of your distancing. you stopped countering draco's remarks with snarky quips nor did you even bother to spare a glance at him anymore. draco hated the feeling he failed to recognise as heartbreak. he was so caught up in this feeling that he ordered crabbe and goyle to snoop around and find out what changed about your life. it didn't take much investigating to discover the budding romance between you and harper. draco was far more distraught than he thought he'd ever been about the news - but what malfoy's goons failed to communicate was that you and harper were barely anything serious.

despite that, draco was consumed by emotion. his immediate reaction after his minions left his dorm room was to owl his father with a letter demanding to expel harper from hogwarts. lucius' response, though, was an eerily formal letter telling his pissbaby of a son to never waste his time with such nonsense again. in other words, his father had completely shrugged him off. thus, draco hopped onto the plan b — which was to gang up on harper with his goons. draco liked to claim no one is on his level enough to be his friend, however, he had grown to like harper before this situation arose. they both shared interests in quidditch and shaming others of their blood status.

soon enough, he had been on harper's case, constantly mocking the other slytherin boy whenever draco found the chance. it was no secret draco had a superiority complex over the fact that harper was the reserve seeker on the slytherin quidditch team whilst draco himself was the main seeker — so this became draco's number one target towards harper.

"your girl couldn't get the real thing so she opted for the knock off instead, yeah?" draco would sneer, adrenaline pumping from the audience that had surrounded him as he insults harper. he tosses a few kicks at the fallen over boy before crabbe and goyle take over with more aggressive ones. he'd snicker at the sight of the dishevelled harper, adding one more comment before walking away, "don't worry, she'll be running back to me soon enough."

fred! if you think fred weasley's demeanor would even remotely falter at the news of you hooking up with someone else, you are wrong. even the fact that the special guy was viktor fricking krum wouldn't be able to stop the ginger from continuing to shamelessly flirt with you. fred's mindset was the literal definition of 'never back down, never give up'. he was not going to let you go simply because krum was snogging you on the sides.

it's lunchtime on a wednesday where majority of hogwarts is present in the great hall, along with the selected students of beauxbatons and durmstrang. you were seated next hermione granger at her designated house table, discussing the slight change in the structures of the upcoming exams. so deep in your conversation with the girl, you had somehow failed to notice the presence of the infamous weasley twins with lee jordan right by their side — obviously. fred is the one to interact with you the most whilst the other two gryffindor boys do their own thing. the older twin's hand is pressed down on the table, leaning his whole body weight against it as he hovers over you. you notice a peculiar shadow cast beside you and turn your right, immediately being greeted with a wickedly grinning weasley. you can't help but notice the veins and slight muscle peeking through his rolled up sleeve from his dominant arm being supported by his weight. hermione, having read the room, turns around, joining a conversation with neville longbottom and ron weasley. "hey, love." fred spoke up, almost purposively being loud enough for others around to take a quick glance. you tense up at the publicly proclaimed nickname, and though you have heard it leave his mouth several times before, this time there is a bulgarian national quidditch player who might just overhear. it doesn't take more than a second for you to spot viktor, who's looking right to your direction, obviously having heard and seen fred. the muscle in krum's tense jaw twitches as he sharply watches the two of you, while on the other hand, fred's gaze on you hasn't budged. in fact, he lifts his left arm up, fixing the position of your head to face him with the grasp on your jaw. "eyes up here, angel." he instructs before going on a tangent about how professor sprout had seperated him and george during class.

to say viktor krum wasn't pleased with fred's public display of affection towards you would be an understatement. apparently in durmstrang, they do things a little differently — such as rounding up your friends and beating up whoever crosses them, rather than the usual duels at hogwarts. so the sight of a bloodied fred entering your dorm had you leaping to your feet to question and aid him. despite the cuts around his face, fred's cocky smile never left his face. clearly he didn't get krum's message, seeing how he took every opportunity to hold your waist as you wiped the cuts clean off his face. krum truly wasn't getting to him. merlin, he seriously enjoyed pissing the guy off.

or so you thought until you caught onto fred's sudden interest in constantly pranking krum and the durmstrang boys. at first you assumed this could be revenge for ganging up on fred, but then you watched the weasley during one of his quidditch practises. beaters already had such an aggressive role — yet in your handful of years knowing fred, you'd never seen him play this aggressive. it was honestly impressive really, how he managed to keep a cool demeanor until he, well, couldn't.

george! george never could understand what had gotten into you to start hooking up with adrian fucking pucey. seriously, all george could think about was how closely pucey resembled to the troll his younger brother and friends fought during their second year. despite his thoughts, he never uttered a single word out loud. he was far from supportive of the relationship but he did his best to stay respectful — maybe you were in an 'i can fix him' phase. though george had no idea how anyone could remove the definite troll genes from the slytherin.

so sure, george kept his mouth shut and a respective distance from the whole relationship ... wrong. oh, come on, there's always a twist with the weasley twins. see, whilst publicly he was an angel .. behind closed doors and alone with you was a whole other wizard. the guy knew if he were to harass pucey with his pranks and stand against him, you would only push the ginger away. he didn't even want to risk such a thing. yet, he still wanted to be close enough to remind you of how much he cared. solitary moments with you begun gentle — he didn't want to cross any line, but still needed to have some sort of idea of where exactly that line was. it wasn't out of the ordinary for just the two of you to hang out — you were best friends after all. however, the more days spent with you, the more flirtatious george grew to be around you.

what starts with light touches on your elbow, soon grows into the two of you laying on the common room couch together, your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you as he talks sweet nothings with you. it was the same old george before you met pucey — how can you ever walk away from this? almost having read the room, george's gaze flickers onto your lips, the talk from him slowly dying out despite the fact that he hadn't even completed his sentence yet. your brain grows fuzzy at the sight of george slowly leaning in, your own gaze fixated on his lips. it was unfortunate that adrian had to step into your common room during that tender moment, clearly in search of you. knowing him, he was in need of some snogging right now. the darkening look in his eyes as he spots the two of you clearly highlights his distaste towards the whole scene. he had practically marched over to the couch, grabbing george by the collar as he slams him onto the nearest wall. you have to admit, the height difference of the five foot nine pucey compared to george's six foot three makes the whole interaction look a lot more silly. "fuck you doin' with my girl, weasley?" snarls adrian, his irish accent thick with rage. yet george seems less than phased, his arms raised as a smirk grows onto his face. "if she was your girl, mate, she would have pulled away." george calmly adds, glancing at you behind pucey with the most flirtatious eyes known to wizard kind. you can't help but feel stunned at the look, almost melting. "want to be the judge of this, darling?"

508 notes · View notes

heliosunny · 4 months ago

Note

Hello!! hello! i love all your works!!! and how much you post per day???? pls take breaks between writing if you can!

i read the streamer!jing yuan one...

if requests are open can i request sunday with the same scenario?

i imagine he'd never play any otome games on his own so robin would have to coerce him into playing the game. i also see him to be the type of player who'd clear every route and have things down to a T ...

but what if there was one route he never finished? the hardest route to trigger and the one with the most bad endings cause the favourability bar is super fickle?

but the payoff is worth it once he somehow???? manages to trigger a yandere event hehe

Yandere!Streamer Sunday x Reader

Game Loading… Welcome Back.

Sunday leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms before settling in for another long night. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this.

When Robin had first forced him to play, he’d scoffed at the idea. Him? A dating game? No way. But somewhere along the way—after countless hours, multiple endings, and way too much money spent on DLC—he’d become obsessed. His competitive streak wouldn’t let him quit until he had 100% completion.

And yet, one route remained unfinished.

Yours.

You were the hardest love interest to win over, your favorability bar more unstable than any other. No matter what he did, one wrong move could send it plummeting. He had watched others fail, seen forums filled with players begging for hints. No one had a clear guide. No one had reached the true ending.

Tonight, that would change.

“Alright, chat” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t care how long it takes—I’m finishing Y/N’s route tonight.”

“Sunday, you’re too deep in, bro.” “At this point, Y/N is your real partner.” “No way you’re getting the true ending. It’s cursed.” “Watch him fumble and lose favorability in five minutes.”

He exhaled, ignoring the teasing comments as the title screen faded, and the game resumed where he left off.

This was it.

Carefully, he selected his next dialogue option, choosing words with precision. Your sprite appeared, and for the first time in all his failed attempts, the favorability bar twitched upward.

[Favorability +5]

“That’s new” he muttered, brows furrowing. Chat exploded with excitement, theories flying in real-time. He leaned in, hyper-focused. The background music softened, replaced by an eerie silence.

Then, the screen flickered.

“What the-?”

Your expression on screen shifted. Subtle, almost imperceptible. The soft smile you usually wore seemed… off. Before he could react, a new dialogue box popped up.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“?????” “This isn’t in the script, bro.” “GOT THE SECRET ROUTE?!” “ABORT. ABORT.”

Before he could click anything, the screen distorted. Pixels warped, the background dissolving into a mess of static. A sudden high-pitched ringing filled his headphones.

Then—darkness.

Sunday had always been good at games. He could grind through any RPG, master mechanics, and break down any system with enough time and effort. But Ethereal Reverie: Fated Bonds was different.

When he stumbled upon your route, he had been hooked.

You were different from other love interests. You're the ultimate challenge. And Sunday loves that.

In the world of Ethereal Reverie, you were the kingdom’s renowned scholar and strategist, sought after by nobles and rulers alike. Your mind was your greatest weapon, and you wielded it with precision. Unlike the other characters—who were knights, royals, and adventurers—you had no need for physical prowess. Instead, you navigated court politics, warfare, and intrigue, always three steps ahead of everyone else.

Most players never even got past your acquaintance phase. Your favorability was infamously fickle—one wrong move and you'd cut ties with the protagonist entirely, locking them out of your story. It was said that only a handful of players had even managed to trigger a romance flag, and none had reached the true ending.

Sunday was determined to be the first.

But now, as he stared up at you—no longer a 2D sprite but a living, breathing person—he realized he had made a grave mistake.

“Sunday.”

His breath caught in his throat. You knew his name. That wasn’t possible. His in-game avatar had a preset name—Caius—the default protagonist. But you weren’t looking at Caius. You were looking at him.

Sunday barely had time to process what was happening before another voice called out from behind you.

“Lord Sunday, you’ve finally arrived.”

What?

It wasn’t just you.

He turned his head sharply, eyes darting around. The grand stone courtyard he had landed in was familiar—ornate fountains, banners bearing the royal crest, and intricate marble pillars. This was the capital’s royal palace, the heart of the kingdom.

He knew this place. He had seen it countless times in the game.

But this wasn’t the protagonist’s usual starting point.

And then the pieces clicked.

His ornate outfit, the way the NPCs were addressing him, the "Lord" title—

This wasn’t his usual avatar.

The game hadn’t just dragged him into the world. It had assigned him a new role.

A dangerous one.

There was only one person in Ethereal Reverie who was constantly at odds with you. One person who stood as your rival in the court’s deadly political game. The one strategist whose name was whispered with both admiration and fear—

Lord Sunday, the Grand Strategist of the Northern Territories.

He had become your greatest enemy.

Why the hell did the game slot me into the villain’s role?

“Lord Sunday. I hope you’re ready. We have much to discuss.”

He had spent a month obsessing over you, trying to understand your thought process, learning every intricate detail of your route. He knew how dangerous you could be.

And now, he was trapped inside the game—forced to be your rival.

The tension in the grand hall was suffocating.

Sunday sat at the long, polished table, hands clenched into fists against his lap as his brain scrambled to keep up. Across from him, you stood poised, arms crossed, your expression carefully neutral—yet he could see the sharpness in your gaze, the unmistakable glint of contempt.

You hated him.

Which was funny, considering he had spent weeks trying to get you to like him.

“This is reckless” you said coldly, turning away from him to address the gathered nobles and military officers. “If we march our forces north under such a thinly-veiled deception, we risk stretching our supply lines too far. It’s a fool’s errand.”

Sunday barely heard the murmurs of agreement that followed. His mind was still caught on the fact that you were speaking to him like he was an actual person. Not a scripted character, but as though he had always been here—as though this world had been real from the start.

And worst of all?

His name, his role in this world, had come with pre-existing relationships—and every single one of them pointed to you absolutely despising him.

He could feel the weight of the stares on him, waiting for his rebuttal. He had no choice but to play along.

“Stretching our supply lines?” he scoffed, leaning back into his chair, “What, do you think my forces can’t handle a simple flanking maneuver? Or do you just enjoy opposing me on principle?”

A flicker of irritation crossed your face. “I oppose stupid ideas on principle.”

There it is.

You had always been like this in the game—blunt, tactical, calculating. You didn’t suffer fools, and apparently, he was a fool in your eyes.

Fine. If that’s how this world saw him, he’d use it to his advantage.

“The southern front is already stabilizing” he continued smoothly, gesturing to the map. “If we strike before the enemy fully regroups, we force them into a defensive position and eliminate their supply routes. You can’t tell me you don’t see the logic in that.”

You narrowed your eyes, and for a moment, Sunday swore he saw something flicker across your expression.

Then, your lips curled into a humorless smile.

“Oh, I see the logic. I also see the arrogance of a man who plays at war like a gambler throwing dice.”

A collective oof rippled through the court. Even Sunday felt that one.

The tension between the two of you was so thick it could be cut with a blade.

“Tell me, Lord Sunday” you continued, “when was the last time one of your little schemes didn’t end in absolute disaster?”

That was a loaded question.

And one he definitely didn’t know the answer to.

Because he had no idea what his past self had actually done in this world.

What the hell did my predecessor do to make you hate me this much?!

Sunday knew when to back down. He had spent the past month failing your route over and over again, watching his choices backfire, and seeing your favorability bar plummet to zero in an instant. Pushing you wouldn’t work.

So, he changed tactics.

For the next few weeks, Sunday did what he did best—he studied you.

Not in the obsessive, love-struck way he had before. No, this time, he played the role the game had given him—your rival. A nuisance at court, a persistent thorn in your side, someone you could never quite get rid of.

But somewhere along the way, he started slipping into your life.

When you left the palace on a diplomatic mission, your caravan mysteriously found safe passage through bandit territory—unaware that Sunday had bribed the local mercenaries to keep them away.

When you spent long nights buried in military reports, a second set of documents would appear on your desk—already summarized with the most critical information highlighted.

When an assassination attempt nearly succeeded in the dead of night, your would-be killer was found dead in an alley the next morning. The guards claimed they had no idea who had done it.

And your favorability bar?

It didn’t move.

No matter how many times Sunday secretly lent a hand, no matter how much effort he put in, you remained completely indifferent to him.

It was infuriating.

It was addicting.

But then, Kristiana betrayed you.

And Sunday knew—this was it. This was where he had to step in.

Kristiana—your most trusted friend, the one person you had allowed yourself to rely on—had sold you out.

For what?

Power. Influence. A higher seat at the table.

Sunday had seen the signs before you did.

But even he hadn’t expected it to be this cruel.

By the time you realized, it was too late.

The palace was in an uproar, whispers spreading like wildfire. You had been accused of treason. Fabricated evidence, falsified reports—all of it meticulously crafted to erase you from power.

And it would have worked.

If Sunday hadn’t stepped in.

When you were dragged into the throne room, stripped of your titles and power, the nobles stood like vultures, watching your downfall with thinly veiled amusement. Kristiana stood at the front, her expression unreadable.

And then—

Sunday spoke.

“...What an interesting turn of events.”

His voice was lazy, amused, and every single person in the room stiffened. Because Sunday never spoke at these gatherings unless he had something dangerous to say.

You turned to him, eyes narrowing. “What are you playing at?”

He ignored you.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but are we really accusing the kingdom’s greatest strategist of treason?” He chuckled. “How convenient. And Kristiana, of all people, is the one bringing it forward?”

Kristiana lifted her chin. “The evidence is irrefutable.”

Sunday tilted his head. “Is it?”

Then, before anyone could react, he threw a stack of papers onto the table.

“What—” Kristiana’s eyes widened.

Sunday grinned. “Because I have evidence too. And mine says you’re the traitor.”

Kristiana paled.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said, “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

He turned to look at you “I told you, didn’t I?” His voice was quieter now, softer, just for you. “You don’t have to fight alone.”

And for the first time since you met him, since he arrived in this world, your favorability bar moved.

All eyes were on Sunday. It was infuriating how effortlessly he controlled the room.

He had just turned your execution trial into his own personal stage.

Kristiana’s hands trembled as she stared at the documents he had thrown onto the table. Papers filled with her secret dealings, her correspondence with enemy factions—detailed proof that she had orchestrated everything.

You didn’t know whether to feel furious or relieved.

Kristiana quickly schooled her expression, regaining her composure. “This is absurd” she said sharply, eyes flicking between Sunday and the king. “Lord Sunday has always opposed Y/N. He has no reason to support them now unless—”

Her gaze snapped to you, then back to Sunday.

“…Unless he’s playing a game of his own.”

She was right. Sunday was known for strategy, deception, manipulation. He wasn’t a savior. He was your rival. You thought.

This wasn’t kindness—this was tactics.

Kristiana latched onto that, her voice rising. “Your Majesty, can’t you see? This is just another one of his ploys! He—he’s aligning with them to further his own agenda!”

Sunday let out a low chuckle.

“Now, now, Kristiana.” His tone was almost mocking. “If that were true, wouldn’t it make you the fool for not realizing it sooner?”

Kristiana’s face burned red with rage.

And you didn’t know what to believe.

Sunday’s interference had saved you. But why?

You weren’t friends. You weren’t allies. You were enemies.

“Your Majesty” Sunday finally said, turning to the king with that same, insufferable confidence. “With all due respect, I think it’s clear who the real traitor is.”

The king’s gaze flickered between you and Kristiana. The weight of the court’s murmurs filled the air.

“Guards” the king ordered. “…Take Kristiana into custody.”

“Wait—!”

The guards moved instantly, seizing her arms before she could react. She thrashed against them, screaming your name—screaming that you would regret this. That Sunday would betray you, too.

And maybe she was right.

You didn’t even notice how tightly your hands had curled into fists until you felt the sting of your own nails against your palms.

The moment the doors slammed shut behind Kristiana’s struggling form, the tension in the room finally snapped.

“What do you want?” you asked him, voice carefully neutral.

Sunday smiled.

“I’m resigning from my position as Grand Strategist.”

The room erupted.

“You—”

Sunday’s smirk didn’t waver as he turned his back on them all. “Figure the rest out yourselves. I’m done.”

And with that, he walked away.

Sunday had abandoned his entire career.

For what?

You didn’t know.

And that was the most dangerous part of all.

The tavern was dimly lit, the scent of alcohol and warm food hanging in the air. It was quieter than usual—most of the patrons had already retreated to their rooms or stumbled home.

Sunday sat alone in the corner, one hand wrapped loosely around a glass of dark liquor. He wasn’t drunk, but there was a sluggishness to his movements.

His fingers tapped idly against the table as he swirled the drink in his hand. Resigning had been necessary. The position was a leash, binding him to forces he had no control over. And if he wanted to truly be close to you— if he wanted to get everything he desired—

He had to start over.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

His eyes snapped open.

You stood at the entrance of the tavern. Unlike in the palace, where your every movement was calculated, here, in the dim light of the inn, there was something… different about you.

Sunday leaned back in his chair, “What, no gloating? I thought you’d be thrilled to see me jobless and miserable.”

You sighed, stepping forward. “I don’t have time for your dramatics.”

You pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, elbows resting on the worn wooden table.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Kristiana was a problem,” he said simply. “I dealt with it.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

For a moment, he considered telling you the truth. That you were the reason. That, in another life, he had spent weeks chasing after you, memorizing every dialogue choice, failing and failing just to see you look at him with something other than cold indifference.

That this was all a game to him once—but now?

Now, it was his reality.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just tired of playing the role they wanted me to?”

Your brows furrowed, caught off guard by his sincerity.

“I should just let you waste away here, but…”

You hesitated. Then, with a sigh, you reached into your coat and slid a folded letter across the table.

“…I need a strategist.”

His fingers brushed over the letter as he picked it up, unfolding it with careful precision. His eyes scanned the contents—an official contract, under your seal. The offer was clear: a position within your faction, under your personal command.

He had to bite back the grin threatening to form.

Staying in the palace as Grand Strategist kept him shackled to the court’s politics, unable to act freely. But working under you?

That gave him access to everything.

To you.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

“Don’t push it.”

“I accept.”

And just like that—

He had slipped right back into your life.

The first few days of having Sunday around were... strange.

You weren’t used to having someone constantly at your side. At first, you thought giving him a position as your personal servant was just a way to keep him under control—make sure he wasn’t scheming something behind your back. After all, he was your enemy.

Or at least, he used to be.

Now, he was everywhere.

You barely had a moment to breathe without Sunday inserting himself into your routine. If you so much as reached for a teapot, he was already pouring your tea. If you sighed after a long day of dealing with incompetent nobles, he was magically at your side, hands on your shoulders, pressing into the knots of tension like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“Why are you still here?” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Sunday, standing beside your desk, completely unbothered, merely hummed as he flipped through the reports you had been working on. “Making sure you don’t overwork yourself.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Mm. Clearly.” He held up a document, tilting his head. “Like this mistake right here?”

You snatched the paper from his hand, scanning it quickly—only to freeze when you spotted the minor miscalculation. Your grip on the paper tightened.

Sunday smirked. “You’re welcome.”

You exhaled sharply, setting the document down before rubbing your temples. “I should fire you.”

“But you won’t.”

With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, exhaustion settling in. You had been working since morning, and the strain was finally catching up to you.

Without a word, Sunday moved behind you.

Before you could react, his hands were on your shoulders, fingers pressing into the knots of tension with practiced ease.

“…You’re tense”

You gritted your teeth. “Maybe because someone keeps breathing down my neck.”

He chuckled, his fingers working at the tension with slow, deliberate pressure. It felt annoyingly good. You hated to admit it, but he was good at this.

“You know” he said, “I think I’m growing on you.”

Your eyes snapped open.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

And yet, he didn’t stop.

---

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅. Secret route triggered. Remaining lives: 4

Sunday gasped as his consciousness was yanked back into existence. One moment, there was nothing—just the cold, suffocating embrace of death. And then, suddenly—He was back.

He jolted upright, hand instinctively clutching his chest. He could still feel it. The sharp pain. The blood. The sheer betrayal.

You had killed him.

Not out of hatred. Not out of revenge.

But because you thought he was scheming against you.

The memory was blurry. He remembered standing in your office, your cold, empty gaze, the guards stepping forward—your blade piercing through him.

This was new. The system had never interfered like this before. He had suspected that this world wasn’t entirely real, but for it to suddenly have rules about death?

The message had been clear:

If he died four more times, he was gone for good.

And there was only one way to stop that from happening.

He had to figure out why you had killed him.

-2nd life-

This time, Sunday was careful.

He stayed out of sight. He watched. He listened. He took note of everything—the way the guards moved, the shifts in your behavior, the whispers among the servants.

And yet, despite all his caution, he still died.

A dagger in the dark.

Slipping through his ribs as he passed through the halls alone.

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅. Remaining lives: 3

-3rd life-

He wasn’t alone this time.

He stuck by your side closer than ever, watching you, watching your people. And still— The moment he took a sip of wine, his throat locked up. His vision blurred. Poison. As his body collapsed to the floor, he saw the wide-eyed horror on your face, the way you rushed to his side.

The way you whispered, "Who did this?"

But the system was already pulling him back.

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅. Remaining lives: 2

---

When he came back again, Sunday finally had enough pieces.

He had overheard the murmurs between the palace servants. How they whispered in dark corners, how they spoke of him as if he was a threat. How someone had been spreading lies about him to you.

You had always been calculating. If you believed he was plotting something, then that meant you were given evidence.

Fabricated evidence.

And just like that—he knew.

Someone in your inner circle wanted him dead.

And if he didn’t fix it soon,

he would die for real.

Sunday had two lives left.

This time, he didn’t act recklessly. He smiled at the servants. Charmed the guards. Pretended he didn’t know that any of them had already been responsible for his previous deaths.

And most importantly?

He stayed close to you.

It didn’t take long for him to confirm his suspicions.

The whispers in the halls, the stolen glances between certain attendants, the way they avoided his gaze whenever he passed. Someone had been feeding you lies about him.

Twisting the truth. Painting him as a traitor.

And the final piece clicked into place when he overheard a conversation outside the grand hall.

“Has the master grown suspicious?”

“Not yet. But if that man continues to cling to them, we’ll have to push harder. The evidence is nearly ready.”

Evidence.

They think they can manipulate me?

They have no idea who they’re dealing with.

He had to move carefully.

But even knowing what he knew, he still miscalculated.

Sunday had been following the movements of one of the suspicious attendants, gathering clues, trying to find solid proof before he confronted you—

When he felt the cold press of a blade against his throat.

“You should have stayed in your place.”

The blade sliced.

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒕: 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒅.

-Last chance-

Sunday woke up shaking.

This was it. One life left.

The moment he was revived, he went straight to you.

He didn’t wait for the lies to spread again. Didn’t wait for another chance to be stabbed in the dark.

He had to make you listen. So when he found you in your private study, brow furrowed over a new report, Sunday did something he had never done before.

He dropped to his knees.

“What are you—?”

“Someone has been feeding you false information about me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know who exactly is behind it, but I have proof that some of the palace attendants have been manipulating you,” he said, voice low and urgent. “I’ve overheard them talking. The whispers in the halls. The fabricated ‘evidence’ against me.”

“Tell me,” he said, “what did they show you?”

You hesitated.

Your fingers tightened over the report in your hands.

Sunday saw the conflict in your eyes, the way your mind worked behind that carefully unreadable expression.

For weeks, he had been watching you—learning you. Every minute change in your stance, the flicker of your gaze when something unsettled you. And now?

You were unsettled.

Good.

That meant he was getting somewhere.

“Tell me, then.” Your voice was composed, but he could hear the tension beneath it. “What do you think I saw?”

“Something that made me look like a traitor.”

He pressed on.

“Documents with my forged signature? Secret meetings I never attended?” His voice lowered. “Maybe even an intercepted message—words twisted just enough to convince you that I had been plotting against you all along.”

Sunday exhaled slowly. “You didn’t question it because it made sense, didn’t it?” He tilted his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “Because I’ve always been your biggest obstacle. Because I’ve always been the one who stood against you.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t deny it, either.

He needed to tread carefully. One wrong move, and you could still see him as a threat.

“But even after all that… you let me stay by your side.” He tilted his head, watching your reaction. “Why?”

“You were useful.”

“Liar”

Sunday sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look. You don’t trust me. Fine. But at least trust yourself.” His voice softened. “Think about it, really think about it—was there ever a time I actually betrayed you?”

Sunday leaned back slightly, voice steady as he gave his final push. “If you still want to kill me after thinking it through, then do it.”

You stared at him.

Seconds passed.

Then, your fingers loosened over the report in your hands.

You set it down.

“…Who?”

“Let me find out.”

And this time, he wouldn’t die before getting his answer.

For the first time in weeks, Sunday wasn’t lurking in the shadows or biting his tongue. No, this time, he moved freely.

You hadn’t explicitly told him to investigate, but by not ordering him to stop, you had given him permission.

And he would take full advantage of that.

Sunday wasn’t stupid. The moment he started looking too closely, his enemies would know.

So he laid a trap. He spread a rumor. A whisper in the halls, planted through a careless slip to an eavesdropping maid:

“The master is growing suspicious.”

It took less than a day for the rats to scurry.

Late into the night, Sunday followed a group of attendants as they snuck through the palace corridors, slipping into a secluded study.

He pressed against the wall, listening.

“The fool is still alive.”

Kristiana.

Your former best friend.

“No matter. The next attempt will not fail” she continued. “Their trust in him is wavering, but it is not broken. We must strike before it is too late.”

A second voice—one of your high-ranking advisors—spoke up. “Then we must act now. The documents are already prepared. A few words from our informant and the master will be forced to execute him. This time, there will be no hesitation.”

So that’s how they did it.

Forcing your hand. Setting you up so that killing him was the only logical choice.

He stepped into the dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows.

“Do you take me for a fool?”

The room fell silent.

Kristiana’s eyes widened before narrowing. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I shouldn’t be alive either, and yet, here I am.” His gaze flicked over the forged documents on the table, then back to her. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

The advisor paled. “You have no proof—”

“I don’t need proof, because you’re going to confess.”

Kristiana scoffed. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he murmured, taking a slow step forward, “I am still standing here.”

“And that means I know exactly what you’ve done.”

Sunday let the silence stretch before delivering the final blow:

“I wonder what will happen when I tell the master.”

Kristiana was a skilled manipulator, but even the most cunning fox could be outplayed. Still, Kristiana wasn’t the type to surrender without a fight.

“You assume Y/N will believe you.”

“I don’t assume. I know.”

Kristiana clicked her tongue, fingers twitching toward the hidden dagger at her belt.

“Let me guess. This is the part where you try to silence me?”

He didn’t give her the chance.

Before her blade could even leave its sheath, guards swarmed the room.

Her face twisted in shock as soldiers restrained her, yanking the weapon from her grasp.

Sunday turned, finally meeting your gaze as you stepped into the room.

You weren’t looking at him, though.

You were looking at Kristiana.

“…Why?”

Kristiana let out a breathless laugh. “You still don’t get it?” Her smile was sharp. “I was never going to let you win.”

“Take her away.”

[Favorability +20]

For the first time since entering this world, Sunday saw the notification appear.

All this time, he had been serving you, watching you, following you. He had given you his loyalty, his time, even his own life. And yet, only now, after clearing out the people who poisoned your ears, did the game decide to acknowledge his efforts?

Still, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he watched you.

You had been silent since Kristiana was taken away. You stood there, alone in the now-empty study, eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“…You were right”

Sunday blinked. “What?”

“About Kristiana. About the lies.” Your jaw clenched. “About me being too blind to see it.”

“…You trusted her,” he said simply. “It wasn’t stupid.”

“It was careless.”

“No. It was human.”

[Favorability +10]

This time, he really did laugh.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

For the first time since Sunday entered this world, things were peaceful.

Kristiana was gone. The whispers had died down.

And you stopped looking at him with suspicion.

You still didn’t fully trust him, but that was fine.

Because you let him stay.

He continued to serve you, just like before.

When you were tired, you didn’t push him away when he set down a cup of tea beside you.

When he disappeared for a few hours, you caught yourself wondering where he had gone.

[Favorabiliy +5]

It was slow.

But it was happening.

Of course, he knew this peace wouldn’t last forever.

Kristiana might be gone, but her knowing smile haunted the back of his mind.

Something else was coming. The true storm. And Sunday would be ready.

The palace halls were silent.

The mourning drapes hung heavy over the grand windows, blocking out the golden light of dawn. Even the servants moved quietly, their usual whispers and hurried footsteps replaced by a solemn stillness.

Your father was gone.

The weight of it pressed down on you like an iron chain.

He had held on as long as he could. Even in his final hours, he had smiled at you—his tired eyes filled with warmth, his hand resting weakly over yours.

“You will be alright.”

His last words echoed in your mind.

But you weren’t.

You could barely eat. Barely drink. Barely breathe.

The world around you blurred. People came and went, offering condolences, yet their voices were distant, as if muffled by water.

And through it all—

Sunday remained.

----

You didn’t see it. Didn’t notice the way Sunday silently turned away envoys, nobles, and officials, intercepting their letters before they could reach your hands. Marriage proposals. Political alliances disguised as heartfelt offers. Opportunists circling like vultures, waiting for the moment your grief would make you vulnerable.

Sunday burned them all.

Every request. Every demand. Every veiled attempt at stealing you away.

They didn’t deserve you.

And if anyone thought they could force your hand—

Well.

They would have to go through him.

-----

The night was cold.

You sat by your father’s desk, the candlelight flickering against the tear-stained letters before you.

You hadn’t touched the meal that had been left for you.

“You need to eat.”

You didn’t respond.

He stepped closer. Gently, he placed a cup of warm broth beside you, the steam curling into the air.

Still, you didn’t move.

“…He wouldn’t want you to waste away like this.”

For a moment, Sunday thought you would ignore him again.

But then, slowly, you reached for the cup. The broth sat warm in your hands, but you barely tasted it. It was just something to do. A distraction. A meaningless action to appease Sunday so he wouldn’t pester you further.

You had expected him to leave once you took a sip.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Sunday crouched beside you, plucking a small piece of softened bread from the untouched plate.

“Here.”

“I can feed myself.”

He didn’t argue. He simply held the bread near your lips, gaze steady.

“You’ve barely eaten in days.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forward and took a small bite.

The moment the food hit your tongue, you realized how hungry you truly were.

You had been so caught up in grief, in the crushing weight of loss, that you had ignored your own needs. But now, your body reminded you—loud and clear—that it was starving.

Sunday didn’t say anything as he picked up another piece and lifted it toward you.

And without thinking, you let him feed you.

The warmth of his fingertips, the way he wordlessly knew when to offer you water, the way his gaze never once wavered from yours.

For the first time, you actually looked at him.

He had always been there, hadn’t he? Lingering in the background, watching over you, handling things before you even had to ask.

And now, up close like this, he wasn’t that annoying.

Actually… he was— Handsome.

The thought struck you so suddenly that you nearly choked on your next bite.

Sunday blinked, brows furrowing slightly. “Careful.”

You coughed, hastily grabbing the cup of water he handed you. Heat crept up your neck, but whether it was from embarrassment or something else, you weren’t sure.

“What’s wrong? Finally realizing how charming I am?”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t push it.”

But he only chuckled, satisfied.

[Favorability +5]

You didn’t see it. The tiny, nearly imperceptible shimmer in the air—like a system notification only meant for him.

“What?” he said. “Did I get more handsome just now, or are you finally acknowledging that I’ve been devastatingly attractive this entire time?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re seriously fishing for compliments while feeding me?”

“Multi-tasking is an important skill.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he plucked another piece of bread from the plate and held it up, smirking, “you’re still letting me feed you.”

You froze, only just realizing it.

You could argue, push him away, reclaim some of your dignity… but you were still hungry. And honestly, this was the first real conversation you’d had since your father passed.

…It was nice.

So instead of answering, you simply huffed and took another bite, avoiding his gaze.

“You know, if I had known all it took was feeding you to make you behave, I would’ve done this ages ago.”

“I take it back. You’re annoying.”

“Too late. You already let me in.”

-----

Sunday should have been pleased.

You were recovering. You were finally eating, standing tall once more, resuming the duties your father left behind. He had worked for this. Stayed by your side through the worst of it. Protected you, fed you, shielded you from the opportunistic nobles who sought to take advantage of your grief.

And now?

Now you were back to work.

And he hated it.

Not because he wanted you to remain weak—no, he would never wish that on you. But because now, he had less control. Before, when you were withdrawn in your chambers, he was the one managing things. The one turning away suitors, handling your food, ensuring your safety without question.

But now?

Now you were surrounded by people. Officials, nobles, potential threats.

And worst of all—

You were talking to them. Laughing with them. Standing too close to them.

Sunday’s fingers twitched as he watched from the shadows of the court hall.

He couldn’t stand this.

His jaw clenched as he watched you tilt your head toward one of your advisors, listening intently to whatever nonsense they were feeding you.

You weren’t even aware of it, were you? How vulnerable you were in moments like these.

What if someone whispered poison into your ear? What if they sought to turn you against him?

His mind spun with all the possibilities—his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface—

And then, a soft chime.

A faint glow only he could see.

𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒔: 𝑼𝒏𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅

Favorability: 40%

40%. It had never been this high before.

But if he had learned anything from playing this game before—

40% wasn’t enough.

Sunday’s mind was already calculating his next move when another chime echoed in his ears.

[System Assistance Available]

His eyes widened slightly. Since when?

Before, the system only interfered when he died. It never offered him anything—no guidance, no tools, nothing. But now?

He focused on the faint glow only he could see, willing the system to respond.

[Query Registered: Assistance Requested]

A loading screen flickered in his vision before a new window appeared.

[Available Items – Secret Route]

Whispering Veil – Conceals the user’s actions from others for a limited time. (1 use)

Falsified Letters – Alters the contents of incoming messages before they reach the recipient. (3 uses)

Echo Crystal – Records and replays conversations to the user. (1 use)

Subtle Influence – Temporarily shifts favorability by +5% in a critical moment. (1 use)

Locking Key – Prevents an individual from leaving a designated area for 12 hours. (1 use)

These were cheats. This world had been working against him for so long, making every step toward you a battle. But now?

Now he had weapons.

The Falsified Letters were already useful. How many proposals had he secretly turned down for you? With these, he wouldn’t have to intercept them—he could alter them entirely.

The Echo Crystal was perfect. He would find out exactly what these scheming nobles were saying to you behind his back.

But the Subtle Influence?

Sunday’s fingers twitched.

A guaranteed +5%?

It took him months to raise your favorability even this much. He could get closer right now.

…But no.

Not yet.

[Item Acquired: Echo Crystal]

Let’s see what these people were really saying.

Sunday gripped the Echo Crystal in his palm, feeling the faint warmth of its magic pulse against his skin.

Slipping out of sight, he activated the crystal. A shimmer of light pulsed from its surface before fading, leaving only a soft hum in his ears.

“We need to act soon.”

Sunday’s eyes narrowed.

The voice was familiar—one of the noble councilmen, Lord Arventis. A well-spoken official who had spent the past weeks pretending to be loyal to you.

Another voice joined in, one that sent a sharp chill through his spine.

Kristiana.

“Y/n's regaining their strength” she murmured. “If we don’t secure their hand in marriage or weaken their standing, soon they'll become untouchable.”

Sunday’s fingers curled tight around the crystal.

These leeches. These pathetic, scheming rats.

They weren’t just trying to manipulate you anymore.

They were planning to seize control.

Sunday exhaled, slipping the crystal into his sleeve as he stepped out from the shadows.

He needed a plan.

And this time?

He wasn’t playing fair.

It took two days.

Two days of watching, listening, gathering proof.

Every word spoken behind your back, every noble secretly conspiring against you—Sunday had it all.

And now?

Now, it was time to remove the pieces from the board.

One by one, carefully, subtly.

The Falsified Letters were the first to be used.

Kristiana? Lord Arventis? The others who sought to control you?

Every letter they sent—every request for a private meeting, every false plea of loyalty—was altered.

You never saw their real words.

Instead, what you received were poorly veiled insults. Demands. Mockery disguised as diplomacy.

Your anger was immediate.

Within hours, you had your court questioning their intentions.

Within a day, Lord Arventis had lost your favor.

And Kristiana?

Her carefully woven web of deception began to unravel.

Sunday watched it all unfold with quiet satisfaction.

When you looked at him that evening, your gaze lingering just a little too long—

Sunday saw it.

That flicker of realization.

That first, fragile crack in your walls. He didn’t need the system to tell him this time. You were finally seeing him.

Sunday had been waiting for the right moment.

The Locking Key wasn’t something to use carelessly. It was a tool meant for control, for ensuring that no one could interfere with what was about to happen.

It happened without warning. The door, which had been perfectly fine just moments ago, let out a soft click.

You frowned, standing up to test the handle, only for it to remain firmly shut. “…Strange.”

Sunday, who had been silently refilling your tea, glanced up in feigned curiosity. “Something wrong?”

You jiggled the handle again. “The door isn’t opening.”

His lips parted in mock surprise. “Oh?”

You turned to face him, your exhaustion making you more irritable than usual. “Did you do something?”

He blinked at you, the perfect picture of innocence. “Why would I lock us in?”

“Then what, the palace just decided to trap me here?”

He hummed in thought. “Maybe it’s fate.”

You shot him a glare, but deep down, you knew there was no use fighting it. You were tired—too tired—and the energy to argue with him simply wasn’t there.

The weight of the past few days had finally caught up to you. The grief, the stress, the endless work… it was pressing down on your chest, your body begging for rest.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you brought them to your temple.

Sunday noticed immediately.

“Sit” he murmured.

You resisted. “I’m fine.”

“You can barely stand.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, something shifted. A strange warmth settled in your mind—a pull, a quiet lure, almost like… magic. It was subtle, like a whisper, telling you that you should just listen to him. That for once, you could stop fighting.

Your legs moved before you could think.

You collapsed into the nearest seat, but the hard wooden chair was uncomfortable, your body aching as you tried to relax.

Sunday sighed. “You’ll never rest like that.”

He moved forward, taking the empty space beside you—no, not beside. Right behind.

Before you could react, his hands were on your arms, guiding you gently but insistently. “Come here.”

Your breath hitched. “What—”

He pulled you onto his lap.

You should’ve moved. But your exhaustion made you weak, and your body—traitorous, selfish—sank into him instead.

His warmth seeped into your skin, his steady breathing oddly calming as your head rested against his shoulder. His fingers brushed against your wrist before settling at your back in a silent reassurance.

“…Better?” he asked softly.

You hesitated, then—reluctantly—nodded.

“You’re finally listening to me.”

You hated the way your face warmed.

[Favorability +30]

Sunday felt the chime before he saw the number.

Thirty. Thirty?

That was insane.

Nothing he’d done before—no silent loyalty, no favors, no devotion—had ever made your favorability jump this high.

He had expected a modest increase, maybe five or ten points at most. But this?

This was a breakthrough.

His mind raced, replaying every second leading up to this moment. The exhaustion, the quiet lure of his voice, the way you had naturally leaned into him without fighting.

And then it clicked.

You liked skinship.

Or rather, you found comfort in it.

Not that you’d ever admit it, of course. You were still too stubborn, too prideful to say it out loud. But your body?

Your body didn’t lie.

It was something subconscious, something deeply ingrained in you that even you didn’t seem aware of.

All this time, he had been carefully balancing between too much and too little, afraid of pushing his luck. And yet, the answer had been right in front of him—literal physical closeness.

Of course, he couldn’t abuse it recklessly. You were quick to irritation, your temper flaring if someone overstepped.

But if he did it right…

If he played this carefully…

Then he had just unlocked his greatest weapon.

His arms tightened around you slightly, as if testing the waters, but he didn’t push further. For now, he let you rest against him, let you trust him.

And when your breathing evened out, when the tension in your muscles melted completely, Sunday only smiled to himself.

Checkmate.

----

The next morning, when you drowsily shuffled into the dining hall, he was already there, waiting. He handed you a steaming cup of tea, but instead of simply setting it down, he took your hand in his, guiding your fingers around the cup.

[Favorability +5]

A test—and a success.

You barely reacted, too groggy to care. But it worked.

At midday, when you were busy drafting letters and reviewing reports, he appeared by your side with an ink-stained cloth.

Without a word, he took your hand and gently wiped the smudge off your fingers.

You stiffened for a second but didn’t pull away.

[Favorability +7]

And so, the pattern continued.

Each day, a small touch here, a silent act there. Never enough to raise suspicion, never enough to cross a line, but just enough to nudge you closer.

[Favorability +2]

At 84%, you had stopped questioning him.

At 87%, you had stopped fighting it.

And now?

90%.

The notification chimed in his ears.

You still didn’t notice.

But he did.

And now, the only thing left to do…

Was push you past the threshold.

---

Sunday had been playing the game well. He had spent days getting closer, learning your preferences, adjusting his every move to keep you comfortable while steadily increasing your favorability.

But what he didn’t know—what he never could have anticipated—was that the more you grew attached to him…

The more possessive you became.

It wasn’t obvious at first. A lingering glance here, an oddly fixated stare there.

Then it got worse.

And today?

Today, you were seething.

You stared at Sunday across the dining table, your fingers gripping the silverware a little too tightly as you cut into your meal.

He was being too calm.

Like he had nothing to be guilty for.

“So.”

Sunday barely looked up from his plate. “So?”

“I heard you were with the maid today.”

He paused for a fraction of a second before responding. “…I was.”

That made your grip tighten.

You placed your utensils down with a little too much force. “You were seen with her at the market.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but his expression remained composed. “She was just getting supplies. I needed to ask about—”

“Flowers?” you cut in, your tone sharp.

His lips parted in realization. “…You’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you lied. “I’m simply asking why my personal servant was out shopping for flowers with another woman.”

Sunday stared at you, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.

You weren’t supposed to be like this.

You weren’t supposed to care.

But you did.

Because the way you felt at that moment—the way your blood boiled at the idea of him entertaining someone else, at the thought of him being kind to someone that wasn’t you—it was irrational. Terrifyingly so.

“…You think I was flirting?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Something flickered in his gaze before he let out a small breath. Then, he placed his utensils down and leaned forward.

“Look at me.”

“If I wanted to flirt, don’t you think you’d be the first to know?”

You should have let it go.

You should have brushed it off, laughed, changed the subject.

But instead, you found yourself gripping the edge of the table, voice quiet but trembling with something unfamiliar. “…Then don’t do it.”

Sunday’s smirk faltered.

For the first time, he saw it.

The hint of something deeper in your eyes.

This wasn’t just a favorability boost anymore.

This was dangerous.

And for the first time…

He wasn’t sure who was hunting who.

[Favorability: 96%] → [Favorability: 94%]

Why?

He had been so careful, every action calculated, every touch measured. You were supposed to be getting closer, not slipping away.

Just as he was about to summon the system, a knock echoed through his room, followed by the soft creak of the door opening.

“Who were you talking to?”

For a split second, panic clawed at his chest, but he forced himself to relax, plastering on his usual lazy smirk.

“Talking? I was just thinking out loud.” He leaned back, stretching as if nothing was wrong. “Why? Miss me already?”

Your eyes didn’t waver.

“…Let’s go for a walk.”

Sunday blinked. “…A walk?”

You nodded, stepping further inside. “You’ve been inside all day, haven’t you? A change of atmosphere would be good.”

His mind raced. He needed answers from the system—but with you watching him like a hawk, there was no way he could summon it now.

“…Fine.” He stood, brushing himself off. “But if this is some elaborate scheme to make me carry all your shopping bags, I’ll protest.”

You scoffed. “As if I’d waste your time with something so trivial.”

(But if it meant keeping you outside longer, he wouldn’t have minded.)

The air was cool, a soft breeze brushing against the streets as you and Sunday wandered through the bustling town. You had led him to a small ice cream stand, insisting that since it was his first time out in a while, he should try something sweet.

Sunday wasn’t really one for desserts, but the moment he saw the way your eyes lit up as you tasted yours, he found himself taking a bite of his own without complaint.

“What do you think?”

Sunday tapped his chin, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… tastes better than I expected.”

You rolled your eyes. “You could just say you like it, you know.”

“And give you the satisfaction of being right?” He smirked. “Never.”

You huffed, taking another bite of your own, and he had to force himself to look away before he stared too long.

Then, it happened.

You took a step forward—and slipped.

Sunday’s body reacted before he could think.

In an instant, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you against him just before you could hit the ground.

The ice cream you had been holding slipped from your grip, landing pathetically on the pavement, but neither of you reacted to it.

Because at that moment, you were way too close.

Your face was inches from his, your breath warm against his skin.

Your hands had instinctively grabbed onto his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. You weren’t moving away.

[Favorability +3]

“…You okay?”

Sunday swallowed, forcing himself to breathe.

He was the one who caught you—so why did it feel like he was the one about to fall?

Sunday wasn’t sure how long he held you like that.

Seconds? Minutes?

It didn’t matter.

Because all he could focus on was the warmth of your body against his, the way your breath hitched slightly as you realized how close you were.

Your hands were still resting against his chest, fingers lightly curled into the fabric of his clothes. His arm, firm and unmoving, remained around your waist, securing you in place.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

“…Are you going to let me go?”

“Do you want me to?”

Your lips parted slightly, your gaze flickering down to where his fingers pressed into your side, then back up to his eyes.

You didn’t answer.

And he didn’t need you to.

His other hand lifted instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

Sunday had spent so long trying to read you, to predict your reactions, to find ways to win you over. But right now?

You were looking at him like you were the one figuring him out.

Slowly, your hand slid up from his chest to rest lightly against his collarbone. The touch was hesitant but intentional.

You weren’t pushing him away.

If anything, you were leaning in.

His grip around you tightened slightly as his gaze flickered to your lips. He could kiss you right now.

And then—

“Ah! Your Grace!”

Both of you froze.

Sunday barely had time to react before someone practically materialized beside you, bowing so quickly they almost fell over.

“It’s an honor to see you again! Thank you for your generosity the other day—our village has been thriving because of your kindness!”

Your entire body went rigid.

Sunday could feel the way your muscles tensed, your hands jerking away from him like you had just realized what was happening.

The warmth disappeared.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

You coughed, taking an awkward step back. “Ah, yes. Of course. I’m…glad to hear that.”

Sunday clenched his jaw, forcing himself to exhale slowly.

He turned his head slightly—only to see you blushing.

Not just a small, embarrassed flush—a full-on, heated, flustered mess.

Sunday blinked.

You? Blushing? Over him?

His heart nearly stopped.

And that was before he felt the warmth creeping up his own neck.

His ears burned.

You glanced at him briefly, eyes darting away almost immediately when you realized he was already looking at you.

Sunday almost cursed out loud. Instead, he cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from grabbing you again. “…We should keep walking.”

You nodded way too fast. “Y-Yeah. Let’s go.”

The villager beamed, bowing once more before stepping aside.

And as the two of you walked off—still visibly flustered, still awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze—Sunday let out a small breath.

Maybe that damn favorability bar was a nightmare to raise.

But right now?

He didn’t even need to check it to know that something between you had changed.

Sunday woke up with an immediate sense of wrongness.

For one—his arms didn’t move.

For two—his legs didn’t move.

For three—you were straddling him.

He blinked, slowly coming to terms with his predicament. His wrists were tied to the bedposts. His ankles were similarly restrained. And above him, sitting comfortably atop his waist, you were smirking down at him.

“…I must still be dreaming”

You chuckled. “Oh, you’re awake? That’s good. I was starting to think you were just pretending.”

Sunday squinted at you. “Why. Am I. Tied up.”

You shrugged, tilting your head in mock innocence. “I thought I’d do something different today. Y’know, entertain you.”

His lips parted, a dumbfounded expression flickering over his face.

Entertain him.

He was seconds away from losing his mind.

Your fingers drummed along his chest, your weight warm and solid against him. “You seem awfully close with the maids these days. I thought perhaps… I should remind you where your loyalties lie.”

Sunday stared.

“Excuse me?”

You smiled, leaning in slightly.

The warmth of your breath tickled his cheek. “You’ve been talking a lot with them, haven’t you?”

You were jealous.

The realization slammed into him like a freight train.

The hours he had spent gathering information—asking the maids about your favorite foods, your daily habits, your preferences—had backfired spectacularly.

And now here you were, pinning him to his own damn bed.

Sunday had never, in all his life, imagined the ‘Impossible Route’ would turn out like this.

You leaned in even closer, lips dangerously near his ear. “…You should be more careful. People might think you’re plotting something.”

His jaw clenched.

His heartbeat thundered.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

And you were enjoying every second of it.

Sunday inhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain calm. “Alright. You’ve had your fun. Now untie me.”

You hummed in thought, fingers lazily tracing the outline of his collarbone. “Mmm… I don’t know. I think I like you like this.”

Sunday's patience snapped.

In one swift motion, he flexed his wrists and ripped free of the bindings.

Before you could react, Sunday flipped you over, pinning you beneath him.

Your back hit the mattress, your wrists caught in his grip. The tables had turned.

“My turn.”

You barely had time to blink before he leaned down—and stole your lips.

Your mind went blank.

Sunday pulled back just enough to see the dazed look in your eyes, his lips still hovering over yours.

“Next time you try to trap me” he murmured, “make sure I can’t escape.”

And then—

The door swung open.

“…Oh.”

Sunday didn’t move.

You didn’t move.

The servant froze in place.

A long, suffocating silence filled the room.

“…Should I come back later?”

You shoved Sunday off of you so hard he nearly fell off the bed.

“GET OUT.”

The servant practically tripped over themselves trying to flee.

The door slammed shut.

You and Sunday sat there for a moment, staring at each other.

Your face? Completely red.

Sunday, meanwhile, simply grinned.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“SHUT UP.”

You avoided him for the rest of the day.

Which, really, was adorable.

Every time Sunday entered a room, you’d suddenly be very interested in a random document or an irrelevant piece of decor. The moment his eyes met yours? Immediate retreat. He’d never seen you so utterly defeated before—it was addicting.

And that blush? That frustrated, completely flustered look?

He wanted to see more of it.

You tried to act like nothing had happened the next morning. You sat at your usual spot, drinking tea as if the past twenty-four hours hadn’t completely obliterated your composure.

Sunday casually poured himself a cup and sat across from you, resting his chin in his palm.

“So.” He smirked. “That was quite the reaction yesterday.”

You choked on your tea.

Coughing violently, you shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it?”

Finally, you set your cup down with a soft clink and exhaled sharply.

“…Fine.” You looked at him, shoulders squared, lips pressed into a thin line. “I admit it. I lost that round.”

“Round?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.”

His grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “…You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am. Still by your side.”

You faltered. Your fingers curled slightly, as if hesitant to say what you were thinking. Sunday watched as you took a slow breath, steadying yourself.

Then, with clear reluctance, you muttered—

“…I suppose I don’t mind.”

He almost forgot how to breathe.

You weren’t looking at him, too focused on the way your tea swirled in your cup. But Sunday could see it—the faintest hint of a smile on your lips. The soft flush still lingering on your ears.

[Favorability: 100%]

His heart skipped a beat.

You finally looked back at him, eyebrow raised. “Why are you staring?”

Sunday blinked. He schooled his expression just in time, lips curling into his usual smirk.

“…No reason.”

But inside?

Inside, he knew.

He had won.

And he would never let you go.

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #honkai star rail sunday #sunday hsr #sunday #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x y/n

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planetaryupscaled · 1 year ago

Text

Best You Ever Had

Male Reader x IVE Yujin

Tags: 10k, anal, age-gap, cheating, creampie, oral, squirt

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“What?”

“What do you mean you hooked up with Sungho?”

“Keep your voices down!” Wonyoung barked at her teammates, Yujin and Gaeul. The three idols were on set working on their next album.

“What do you mean you hooked up with Sungho?” Gaeul asked in a much quieter voice.

“I mean, we had sex,” Wonyoung replied.

“Why?” Yujin asked. “He’s kind of cute, but he didn’t seem like he’d be your type.”

“He’s not.”

“So then why do it?” Gaeul reasked the question.

“Because…because…I…” Wonyoung tried to think of an acceptable answer. She hadn’t meant to tell her friends that she had hooked up with the newest staff member working on their MV. Now she had painted herself in her corner, and she couldn’t think up a good lie, so Wonyoung did something crazy. She told her friends the truth. “Because I fucked his dad.”

Yujin and Gaeul froze in shock. They looked at her and then at each other before turning back to Wonyoung and both shouting “WHAT!?!”

“Quiet!” she snapped back at her two friends.

“No,” Yujin answered back. “You can’t tell us you had sex with Sungho’s dad and not expect us to react.”

“Seriously. Why? How?” Gaeul added.

“Okay, fine. Let’s go back to our dorm and I’ll tell you both everything.” The three of them picked up what was left of their lunches and retreated to their dorm. Wonyoung told them how she was out at a grocery store and ran into a guy she recognized from the set. They started talking as they shopped as they went to pay at the register he asked her if she wanted to get dinner at a place across the street. Wonyoung said he was handsome and she liked talking with him so she agreed. She enjoyed having dinner with him and the next thing she knew she had invited him to their dorm and she was pinned up against her bedroom wall making out with him. The two had sex all night long and she barely got an hour of sleep before she needed to head to set.

“When was this,” Yujin asked.

“Remember that early morning shoot like three day ago when you asked me if I was still drunk from the night before when you saw me?”

“Yeah,” Yujin answered.

“Well, turns out I was drunk. Cock drunk,” Wonyoung laughed.

“Wow,” Gaeul laughed at Wonyoung’s joke. “Um, wait you said you thought he was part of the staff member? Who is he?”

“He’s always on set, usually in jeans and a t-shirt or like a henley. Sometimes has a hat on. He’s got dark hair and like a scruffy beard.”

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about,” Gaeul said. “He’s Sungho’s dad? He looks like he’s almost my age.”

“Turns out he had Sungho when he was in high school.”

“Wait, so you knew he was Sungho’s dad when you had sex with him?” Yujin asked.

“No, I didn’t find that out until we were taking a break the next time.”

“Next time? So this happened more than once?” Yujin asked.

“Yes. We did it like 4 or 5 times. The sex was really, I mean really amazing. I wasn’t going to just do it the once.”

“So how did you go from having sex with his dad, to fucking Sungho?”

“I felt bad about hooking up with his dad, and I felt weird about our age difference. And then I began to think if maybe his dad has this big cock and is amazing at sex, maybe Sungho was too. So then, one day after filming I invited him back to our place and we did it.”

“How was it?” Yujin asked excitedly.

“Honestly?” Wonyoung said while trying to think about how honest she wanted to be. Finally, she said, “He has about 50% of the dick as his dad with maybe 25% of his skills.”

“Oh,” Yujin said disappointed.

“Don’t get it wrong, when I say 50% Sungho isn’t small or tiny. His dad’s just really hung.”

Wonyoung gave a few more details about her sex with Sungho and his dad. It was then time for the three of them to get back on set. As they worked the three idols checked out the 6’2” guy in jeans, a hat, and a scruffy beard standing off to the side of the set. As they looked over at him, both Gaeul and Yujin had to admit to themselves that he was a handsome guy in good shape. Neither could believe he was old enough to be someone’s dad.

It was a few days later while Yujin was at the craft services table looking for a snack when Gaeul moved up close to her and said, “Wonyoung was right about Sungho’s dad.”

“What?” Yujin said in shock. “You had sex with him?”

“No,” Gaeul said while looking around to see if anyone had overheard Yujin. “No, we didn’t have sex. Not yet anyway. But I did give him a blow job during lunch break today. And she was right. He’s hung and he cum in bucket loads.”

“Oh. So are you going to…”

“See if he is as good in bed as Wonyoung claims?” Gaeul finished Yujin’s question. “Yes. I invited him over tonight. Don’t tell Wonyoung.”

“My lips are sealed,” she told her friend.

The next morning Gaeul once again informed Yujin that Wonyoung was being accurate in everything she said. Telling her that if she had not stopped him they probably could have gone all night and that even though it had been hours since he was last inside of her, she could still practically feel his cock inside of her.

As Gaeul gushed about the details of her night, Yujin was starting to feel a ping of jealousy build in her. Yujin was used to being the hot one on the show. The one who internet perverts and men in real life tended to drool over.

It wasn’t until three days later that Yujin made her approach, seeing him standing alone, on his phone, standing beside the craft services table. She walked over to the tape and got herself a bottle of water, and then took several steps toward him.

“I heard a rumor that you’re Sungho’s dad,” she said as an icebreaker.

“You heard correctly,” he looked up to see her standing before him. “I’m Minho.”

“Yujin.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he said with a chuckle.

“So, I have to ask, how are you his dad? You look like his older brother.”

“I knocked up his mother the summer before my senior year of high school.”

“That’s young,” Yujin said as she began doing the math in her head of how old he was, and realized he must have only been around 36. “Was she your high school sweetheart or something?”

“Not exactly. More, like my best friend’s older sister.”

“Wow, that’s a twist. There has to be a story there.”

“There is,” Minho replied.

“I would love to hear it,” she told him. Minho hesitated for a little bit, and then the two walked over to a corner and he began telling her his story. How during the summer before high school, he had gone to his friend’s house after a party and after putting his drunk friend to bed he ended up watching TV with his friend’s sister who was home after her sophomore year of college. The two ended up hooking up on the couch that night.

Then a week later when his friend and his parents went on a road trip to tour colleges, Minho and his friend’s sister spent most of the week having sex. The result was her accidentally becoming pregnant with Sungho, and the two of them reluctantly got married after he graduated high school.

Yujin asked if he had married the first woman he had ever slept with. Minho corrected her and told her how he had lost his virginity the night of his school’s junior prom. Once they were married, they had remained faithful for a while, or at least so he thought.

The two were never a good match for one another, but they faked it for Sungho. The only exception was in the bedroom, in there was the one place where they got along. And since they were both so young and didn’t have the most experience outside of each other, they experimented and tried a lot of new things in the early years.

It was 10 years into the marriage that he found out that his wife had been having an affair with someone in her office. He had been having suspicions for a while, but he didn’t have it confirmed until he saw them kissing in a back hallway during a company party. Minho had been faithful since they got married up until that night.

When they got home, Minho volunteered to drive their babysitter back to her college dorm. In the car, he began to vent about his wife to the 18-year-old college girl, and then the next thing he knew he was parked on the top level of one of the campus garages with his babysitter in his lap, riding his cock. It was two whole days before he broke his wedding vows again, and a week before he broke them with another different woman. This time it was with his babysitter’s friend who sometimes filled in for her babysitting for him.

It was not long after that, while staying together for Sungho, they were just openly sleeping with other people. There was no animosity towards each other, they were just more like friendly roommates (who still occasionally fucked) trying to raise a kid. They did not get a divorce until two years later when his wife and her mom came home early from a spa day and found Minho having a threesome with the babysitter and her roommate.

After that, the cat was out of the bag and they saw no more reason to pretend. After the divorce, Minho would alternate spending weekends at his new place taking care of Sungho, and other weekends often sleeping over at a sorority house living out the college fantasies he never got to experience after high school.

“Sounds like you have a problem with college-age girls,” Yujin said after she had dug pretty deep into questions about Minho’s sexual past and found that many of his stories.

“I wouldn’t say I have a problem at all. If anything, I’d say I have a real talent for bedding women” he replied somewhat proudly.

“I meant more like you’re drawn to them.”

“I am sure a doctor would say that there is some deep-rooted reason with me feeling like I skipped over those years by having a kid and getting married, so now stuck perpetually making up for those lost years,” Minho said. He then leaned over toward Yujin and asked, “But you know what I think?”

“What’s that?” she asked intrigued by where this conversion was going.

“I think I am just a guy who likes sex and enjoy having sex with hot women.”

“Like Wonyoung and Gaeul?” Yujin asked, implying that she knew about their hookups for the first time.

“Yup, exactly,” he said, not missing a beat. He was not surprised at all that Yujin knew about him bedding her teammates. He was anticipating that she would.

“You know, most people think you’re on set to keep an eye on Sungho and to help him. I wonder what people would say if they knew you seem to be here to bed the idols,” Yujin said daringly.

“I can do both those things at the same time, I’m quite good at multitasking. Though maybe we should keep the second part of that to ourselves,” he told her. The tension and flirtatiousness between the two had been building for some time. It was not unexpected for Minho. One thing he had learned in all those nights at the sorority house was, if you wanted to hook up with the top girl in a women's friend group, the best strategy isn’t always to go right for her.

After a few days on set, Minho could see that Yujin walked around the set with a sense of entitlement and acted like she was the queen bee. He had not planned to sleep with Wonyoung that first night, but after getting with Wonyoung and then also Gaeul, he knew it was just a matter of time before Yujin started circling him. So, when she came up to him today, he was not surprised. What did surprise him was the next question that came out of her mouth.

“Have you ever done anal?” Yujin asked very frankly.

“What?” Minho asked, taken aback by her question.

“Have you ever had anal sex with a woman?”

“Yes, I have. A number of times. Why?”

“My boyfriend wants us to try it,” she told him. “We’ve done just about everything else, but neither of us has ever done that.”

Minho wasn’t sure if he truly believed her. Not about her and her boyfriend having never done it, but that Yujin was still an anal virgin. He’d always been pretty good about reading people and his gut told him that the idol had already done a wider variety of sexual things in her life. Still, he kept playing along. “And you’re nervous about trying in it.”

“What? No.” she retorted, “I just don’t want it to be bad. My experience has been if at least one person knows what they are doing, the sex is SO much better compared to when neither knows.”

“So…”

“So, I want you to teach me?”

“Anal?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to teach you how to have anal sex?” he asked once more for clarity.

“Yes.”

“I flattered, Yujin, I am. But I’m not sure how to teach something like that. In my experience, the best way to learn something like that is by doing it.”

“The same for me,” she said suggestively.

With that, Minho got the clarity he had been looking for. He pretended as though he was still contemplating what she was asking of him, but he already knew he was going to say yes. After a bit more back and forth, he thought he might see what else she might have to offer. “So, I do you this favor and teach you about anal so you can perform for your boyfriend. What do I get in return for doing you a favor?”

“You’re getting a night where you get to direct me around and have me do what you want, and you get to live knowing you took my anal cherry, and you want more?” Minho quickly back peddled and agreed to help the idol out by becoming her teacher. “Just one more thing,” she added.

“What’s that?”

“How do I know what Wonyoung and Gaeul have said about you is true? You could have put them up to it. Have them tell me stories.”

“To trick you into bed with me?” Minho asked.

“Something like that. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people have told me they’d do just to have me touch them.”

“So, you want proof?” he asked. Yujin looked him in the eye and shrugged, her eyes then darted down to his crotch and he saw the idol’s tongue quickly swipe across her lips. Minho looked down, and while he knew he was not fully hard, there was a definite bulge in his pants. Looking back up at Yujin, he told her, “I’m not going to pull it out right here right now, but I can get you some proof.

Minho reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped on his phone and asked Yujin for her phone number. He tapped on the screen a few more times, and then a message notification went off on Yujin’s phone. She took out her phone and opened the messages. Her eyes went wide as she looked at them. The first picture was looking down at the body of a naked man with a naked Gaeul sitting on his legs and a large naked cock sticking straight up and pressed against her stomach. The second picture was of an open-mouthed smiling Wonyoung, with her tongue sticking out. She looked to kneeling on the floor looking up at the camera. Next to her face appeared to be the same hard cock as the first photo. Her chin was down at his balls and the tip of his cock was up by her forehead.

“Proof enough?”

“It’ll do for now,” she told him. She then clicked around her phone and when she was done, Minho’s phone chimed with a new notification. “Just so we’re even,” she told him.

Minho checked his phone and he had received a picture. It was a bathroom mirror picture of a woman. Her head was cut off, but in one hand was her phone and the other hand covered her naked breasts. Moving down her body, she did not have anything else on, but she positioned herself so the countertop cut off right where her slit would begin. She was completely shaven.

The two agreed to meet later that night as Sungho was going to be filming some night scenes for another member. She agreed to come over to his place at 9 PM. After they left each other, both were pretty worked up. The flirtation had gone pretty high, and the photos they shared had both of them ready to tear at each other’s clothes. Minho considered texting Wonyoung or Gaeul to see if either wanted to meet for a quickie, but decided to save the load for later that night. Yujin on the other hand went back to her dorm and fingered herself to a big gushy orgasm. For the rest of the day, the two tried to be discreet as they checked out each other from across the room. When they wrapped on the day, Minho stopped by a store on his way home to pick up a few things for the night.

It was a little past nine at night when there was a knock on Minho’s door. He answers barefoot wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

“Hi, old man,” Yujin said with a seductive smile and then stepped into the house. Once she was in and he shut the door, she spun around, “Or should I call you a professor? Since you’re going to be teaching me tonight.”

“Just Minho is fine,” he told her.

“We’ll see about that.” Minho, not sure how comfortable she’d be with him taking her right to his bedroom, led her to the living room.

“You look pretty comfortable tonight,” he commented regarding her outfit. She had on a cotton belly shirt and matching cotton shorts under an oversized button-up shirt, long white socks, and white sneakers.

“I thought about dressing up, but then I figured I might as well wear something that comes off easily since I probably won’t have it on for long.”

“Just how easily does it come off,” he flirted.

“See you are a dirty old man.”

“I’m not that old.”

“Old enough to have a son about my age.”

“True, but I’m still young enough that I have a libido that rivals most teenagers,” he said as he took a seat on his couch right in front of Yujin.

“We’ll see about that,” she said as she stepped up to him and stood over his legs.

“Feel free to start testing out my claims whenever you want.”

“I would, but I’m here so you can teach me about anal. So, I think you’re supposed to tell me how the lesson is meant to begin.”

“In that case, lose the shirt and come here,” he said patting his lap. Yujin quickly threw off her button-down shirt and in one motion she got on the couch, straddled his lap, and pressed her lips against his. The two of them spent the next few minutes with their mouths locked together and their tongues intertwined. As they continued making out, Yujin began wiggling and moving around in his lap. He was getting ready to break off the kiss and ask her what she was doing until Yujin finally found the spot she was looking for. Instead of straddling his lap, she now straddled one of his legs, and her crotch was pressed right down on top of his hard cock encased in his pant leg. She was now grinding her crotch right against his hard shaft. Even through his pants and her shorts, he could still feel the heat radiating from between her legs.

“How many guys have you made cream their short,” Minho asked after a few more minutes of dry humping.

“A lady never tells,” she said with a blushing smile that let him know that the real answer is probably a decent amount.

“That's why you like guys with experience?”

“It’s nice being with someone with a little extra stamina and know won’t let a load go to waste in their pants.”

“Okay. Wanna know what else is nice?”

“What?”

“If you had taken off both your shirts earlier.” Yujin smiled and quickly pulled her tank top off, exposing he braless breasts. Minho sat back and took in the sight of her breasts, taking a series of mental pictures to memorize before wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her towards him. He then began kissing, licking, and sucking on her tits. Yujin was enjoying the attention being paid to her breasts, so much so that she didn’t realize he was pushing his hand into her shorts until she felt him push a finger into her.

“You seem to be enjoying this,” he said as he pulled his hand out from her shorts and showed off how wet his fingers were. She didn’t answer his question. She just took his hand into hers and brought it to her mouth so that she could suck his finger clean. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”

“That sounds good,” Yujin told her. She got off his lap but she stood close enough that Minho could not stand up right away. She then pushed her shorts down and stood in front of him in only a pair of socks. It was only once she was naked that she then took a step back and gave Minho the room to stand up. His eyes immediately went to her glistening wet pussy that was totally devoid of any hair. “Lead the way,” she told him once he was on his feet.

He led her to the bedroom and Yujin immediately jumped onto the bed when they got in the room. She sat up on her knees with her legs spread apart. She then beckoned him over to join her on the bed.

“Not yet,” he told her. He pulled off his show and then he picked up a shopping bag off his dresser. “I picked up a few things for you on the way home.”

He handed her the bag, and she pulled the items out one by one. First was a box of condoms, then a bottle of lube, the next two items were packages of the morning-after pill, and the last item was a chrome buttplug with a heart-shaped red jewel at the end.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a toy that is made to go in your butt, then yes.”

“I thought we were going to have anal sex?”

“We are, but that is going to help stretch you out a bit.”

“Okay.”

“But first, we’re going to have to get your body to relax so I can put it in.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

“You’re going to layback and I am going to show you what it is like to have your pussy licked by a man who knows what he is doing.”

“You think you're better at eating pussy than most guys? That’s a bold statement.”

“I think you’re used to guys licking you just enough to advance things to get to sex. You’ve never had a guy eat you out simply because he wants to eat you out?”

“What’s the difference?”

“If you’d stop asking questions, you’ll have your answer within the next five minutes.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” Yujin said as she moved to lay on her back on the bed. Propping her head up with pillows so she could look down at her naked body. She watched as he got down between her legs, lifting each over his shoulders and wrapping his arm around her thighs. He gave her one last look and gave her a wink before diving between her legs. Yujin rolled her eyes in response. Five minutes later, Yujin’s eyes were rolling again, but this time they were rolling back while her leg was also up in the air twitching.

“OH MY, FUCK, YES!!” Yujin yelled out as her pussy spasmed. Minho happily licked up the juices from her squirting pussy as her juices soaked his face.

“Wow,” Yujin said as her orgasm subsided. “If that’s how they eat pussy, maybe I should only boof older guys from now on.”

“I can’t promise you all older guys are that good.” He let her take a few more breaths before asking her “Ready to go again?”

“Again? Really?” Yujin asked. The excitement in her voice was all he needed to hear. He didn’t even bother with an audible response. Instead, he just wrapped his lips around her clit and began to suck. Yujin was once again putty in his hands, which is exactly what he was hoping for. He wanted her relaxed and distracted. Her focus was on his tongue and lips, and while they worked her folds, his hands were busy popping the lid off of the lube bottle and smearing the gel all over the buttplug that was in his other hand. All the anticipation seemed to have played a factor in how quickly Yujin came that first time, as Minho was having to work handed this next round of oral to get her right where she wanted him. He even had to put the plug down to that he could use his fingers to rub her g-spot as his mouth worked her clit. When she began moaning that she was close and telling him not to stop, Minho grabbed her hips and lifted her so her ass and lower back were off the bed as he sat up and kept her hairless pussy up to his mouth. He kept eating her out and waited until once again she had another orgasm. He drank up her juices until he felt her body go mostly limp after climaxing. As soon as her body felt like it relaxed, he quickly pushed the buttplug into her. Yujin was taken so off guard that she didn’t react until her ass had been penetrated by the toy. She let out a gasp as she felt the toy invade her body.

“You fucker,” Yujin scolded him. “Give me a little warning.”

“If I did that, you would have gotten in your head and you would have clenched up.” That reasoning did make some sense. “You asked me to give you a lesson on anal,” He reminded the idol.

“True, but still,” she said as she reached back and rubbed her ass. Being careful when her fingers touched the end of the toy. Minho suggested that she take a look at it in the mirror. Yujin got off the bed and stood in front of a large full-length mirror. She turned her back to the mirror and bent over. She looked at the chrome toy protruding from her ass. She reached back and touched the toy, she then gave it a slight tug, and then twisted it around.

“How does it feel?” Minho asked as he admired Yujin admiring her own ass.

“Weird,” she told him.

“Weird as in good or bad?”

“I don’t know. Just weird.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Alright, well come back over here and just get used to the feeling. I’ll help you take your mind off of it while you adjust to it.” Yujin moved quickly to get back into the bed. She could not believe that a man was willing to go down on her three times in a row before even exposing his cock to her, but she was not complaining. Minho even would have done it a fourth time, he was enjoying himself so much making the idol’s body tremble in orgasm after orgasm, but when he attempted to go for it a fourth time she had to stop him. Her clit was too sensitive at the moment and could not take the feeling of getting touched again. With her too sensitive for him to orally please her, he decided it was finally time for him to remove his clothes. He got off the bed and stood at the foot of it.

“It’s about time,” Yujin said as she saw his hand move to undo the button on his jeans. She scurried around so that she lay on her stomach on the bed with her face by the end of the bed. She eagerly looked on as Minho continued removing his pants just a foot away from her face. Yujin’s eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a wide smile as she dropped his pants and his hard cock sprang free.

“Oh my,” she said as she reached out and touched his cock, “It’s even nicer than it looked in the pictures.” She rubbed her hands up and down his cock before taking hold of it. “You have a great-looking cock,” she told him.

“Thank you.”

“I knew you’d be bigger and thicker than my boyfriend, but I don’t know how but it’s also prettier than his.”

“You’re not the first to tell me that I have a pretty dick,” he told her confidently. “I am also told it tastes really good too,” he said as he while taking a step forward. Yujin looked up at him with a happy smile and licked her lips. When her eyes left his, they refocused on the cock in front of her and she moved forward with an open mouth. She took two inches into her mouth before closing her mouth tightly around it and then slowly dragged her lips back until only the tip remained in her mouth, giving it a hard suck. She worked her tongue around the tip for a bit, and then popped his cock free of her mouth. She then worked her tongue up and down the shaft, getting it nice and slick for her hands to later use when she pumped her shaft and her mouth worked the top half of his dick.

Minho appreciated Yujin’s oral work on his rigid member. While it felt good, it felt a little like she was holding back. She was working his cock with her mouth for her own enjoyment rather than wanting him to get off. He also noticed when she moved her one hand that was off of his shaft down her body and between her legs. Her mouth and tongue worked his manhood with a building urgency the longer she played with herself as she blew him. He was finally really starting to feel some pressure building in his balls when the idol’s still clad only in socks, pulled his dick from her mouth.

“I can’t wait, I need you inside me,” she announced as she spun around on the edge of the bed. “I’ll make it up to you later,” she said referring to giving him a blowjob, “I just can’t wait anymore.”

Minho hardly moved before Yujin had spun around with her pussy right at the edge of the bed. She even spread and lifted her legs in the air, her arms grabbing behind each knee to make sure they stayed up and spread. Minho thought about teasing her, rubbing his cock along her wet fold and bumping against her clit until the young idol was shaking in anticipation. However, she looked so good like that waiting for him that he could not control himself much either. So, he just stepped into position and pushed his cock forward He had a little resistance before Yujin hairless cunt finally split open for him and his cock began sliding in.

“Oh wow, that’s a fat cock,” Yujin moaned.

“Wait till you feel the full length.”

“Bring it old man,” she dared him. “Fuck me.”

Minho had watched her enough around set that on the outside Yujin had a sweet yet entitled personality, but he always knew that underneath it all was very sexual and thirsty girl. He was glad to see that that side of her was now on full display as he pushed his cock inside of her. While she was tight, she was also so wet that he did not have too much difficulty bottoming her cunt. He started off slowly, but Yujin let it be known that she wasn’t into that. He started thrusting harder and faster, which got her moans going louder. She let go of the back of her leg and instead move them up onto his shoulders and crossing her feet behind his neck. Her hands now went to her breasts and squeezed them as she continued to encourage Minho to hammer her with his cock.

“So good. You have such a good cock.”

“Better than your boyfriend’s?” He asked wanting to see if she would actually answer.

“So much better,” she answered.

“Better than whoever it is you are secretly fucking?” he didn’t know for certain that she actually was hooking up with anyone else, but based his interactions with her today he felt pretty good about it.

“Yes. Fuck. From now on you’re my go-to dick.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said as he picked up the tempo of their fucking even more.

“We’ll see. I am going to drain you old man,” she told him. At first Minho really despised her calling him and old man. He wasn’t even that old. Though as she kept calling him it as they did more and more sexual things, he was starting to get into her calling him that.

Based on how desperate she was for him to stick his dick inside of her, Minho had no doubt that she would orgasm before he would. And was proven correct. Yujin grabbed hold of the mattress as she squirted and her legs trembled. As she climaxed, Minho slowed down to long slow strokes inside of her, but it felt so good to have sex with the starlette that his body refused to let him stop moving completely.

“Let me get on top,” Yujin finally told him as she came out of her post orgasmic fog. Minho pulled out and got on the bed. He had barely had his ass hit the mattress before Yujin was climbing on top of him. “So big,” she moaned as she sank down on his hard dick.

As she began riding his dick, Minho reached up and started playing with her bouncing beasts. While still perky, they did have a considerable amount of shake to them as she bounced on his cock. After a few minutes Yujin leaned forward, so she and Minho were face-to-face and her tits were pressed against his chest. She gave him a kiss as she continued to rotate and grind her hips along his cock.

“It’s a shame you wasted so much time. First by not making any move and then spending weeks with Wonyoung and Gaeul instead of me,” she told him between kisses

“Jealous?” he asked.

“No, I’m mad.”

“Mad?”

“Yes mad. You’ve been walking around set with your great cock for months, and then when you finally do you it you waste it on them?”

“I wouldn’t saying wasting it,”

“We could have been having phenomenal sex for months now if I knew what you were hiding in your pants. And just admit it, I’m better in bed then them,” she spoke to him while looking directly into his eyes.

“I admit nothing,” he responded playfully.

“We’ll see about that,” she told him before giving him a deep passionate kiss. After the kiss she sat up and took her ability at riding his cock up another level. In his head he did admit that she was better than her friends, but seeing how competitive she was being about it, that was something he would never confess audibly to her.

“Get on all fours, I want to see that ass of yours before I wreck it,” Minho told her after a some more time with her on top had passed.

“Promises, promises,” Yujin mused as she dismounted his cock and got into position. She got on her hand and knees and he moved behind her. He gave her full ass a slap before grabbing her hips and trusted back into her. Pulling her cheeks apart, he could see the toy he had lodged inside of her. As he did her from behind, her took the end of her plug and twirled it around inside of her ass. While it felt a little strange having the toy in her ass be moved around, she did not mind the feeling at all, though that feeling didn’t compare to the feeling of Minho’s dick working her pussy. While he was doing her from behind, he was angling his thrust at a slightly downward motion causing his cock to brush against her g-spot with each thrust. The two of them kept going for as long as they could. They were near the end and it was a race to see who would finish first. Yujin ends up having her climax first but between the feeling of her pussy walls contracting and the sounds of her loud moans was enough to make Minho right at the brink.

Minho let go, a small grunt escaped his lips as his cock began erupting into the teenage idol. Yujin moaned as she felt him shoot his cum inside of hers. He did not put his whole load in her, he pulled out about halfway through and shot the remaining cum her had around her ass.

“Why did you pull out?” Yujin asked with disappointment in her voice when he finished.

“I had my reason. Why? Are you disappointed?”

“Yes. I wanted you to fill me to the point that your cum is overflowing out of me,” she told him. As she did, Minho could see her moving her hand down her body and begin rubbing her freshly fucked pussy.

“Maybe next time,” he told her. He then reached for the present he bought Yujin, and without warning he extracted it from her ass. He then began to use the buttplug to wipe the cum he had strayed onto her ass and began wiping it around her hole.

“Is it the time?”

“It seems like a good a time as any.”

Yujin was filled with nervous and excitement. Minho had her get the condoms and lube. Yujin then bent down and gave a few long hard sucks on his cock, making sure he was fully hard before putting on the condom, using both hands to roll the latex down his full length. Minho then had her to apply a generous amount of lube to his condom-encased manhood. He had her get at on all fours and had her look straight forward at a full-length mirror across from the bed. When she was in position he squirted some lube onto the entrance of her back door. He then used his cock head to smear the lube around. She was a little jumpy when she felt the tip of his cock brush against her back entrance.

“Just relax he told her,” and he reached under her and began fingering her. He watched as she closed her eyes and moaned. “Just concentrate on my fingers,” he told her. She was doing just that and he could feel her getting wetter. Once he could tell she was relaxed and not paying attention her gave a quick thrust, moving before she could react.

Yujin let out a squeal, surprised that her ass had just been invaded by the tip of Minho’s cock. Her ass immediately tightened around the head of his dick. He got her to relax and slowly pushed more of cock into her.

“Fuck you’re big,” she moaned.

“Just relax and it will start to feel good soon.”

“Easy for you to say, you not the one being split in half by a massive cock.” It took a little bit of time for Minho to get his full length into the Idol’s ass, but Yujin refused to quit until she had the full thing wedged inside of her. Once it was fully in, he let her sit with it inside her, letting her adjust to the feeling for a minute. He then began making small slow thrusts. Minho watched her face through the mirror, he saw how slowly the grimace on her face began to dissipate until finally, he heard a pleasurable moan.

“It starting to feel good?”

“Yes,” She answered, “Ohh, I like it.”

“You ready to take it up a notch?”

“Give me everything you got, old man,” she dared him. He didn’t think she knew what she was asking for, so while he started making longer faster strokes he was still holding back. It did not take long for Yujin to figure out that he was holding back. “Come on, harder.”

“You sure about that?”

“Either give me a real fucking or I’ll find someone else who can,” she told him as she looked him in the eyes through the mirror. With that, Minho slowly up to his tip and then slammed his full length into her ass. Yujin’s legs kicked up and her mouth went wide but no sound came out. From that moment on he gave it to her like an anal veteran and to her credit and to Minho’s surprise Yujin took it like a champ. Even when he gave her a few spanks, those were only met with grunts and moans of pleasure. With the way she moaned and the way her eyes appeared to roll back, Minho thought Yujin might have even had a small orgasm.

“OH GOD GIVE IT TO ME!” Yujin cried out.

“Yeah, you like my cock in your ass? You like having your ass fucked?”

“YES! So good! Soooo much better than I thought!” Yujin said as she dropped down to her elbows and began thrusting her ass back into my dick. She then asked, “Have you done this with Wonyoung or Gaeul?”

“Not yet,” he told her truthfully.

“Don’t bother, those batches can’t take it like I can. If you want an ass on set just come find me,” she told him.

“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” he commented.

“If I’m wrong, then tell me,” she told him. He didn’t say anything, he only gave her ass another smack in response. “That’s what I thought.”

Minho told her that he wanted to show her another position before he finished. They both let out their own groans of disappointment as he pulled off his cock from her ass. He then got off the bed and told her to roll over onto her back. Once she had done that, he grabbed one of her ankles and pulled her over to the edge of the bed. He pulled her so far that the majority of her ass was mostly hanging over the edge. Still, with her ankle in his hand, he lifted her leg up and held it out to the side. He then took his cock in and buried it back into Yujin’s ass, much to her delight. Using his other hand, he took her other leg and lifted it and spread it wide. Yujin was now on her back with her legs raised and spread eagle on the bed. Her body was on full display for Minho as he slammed his hips into her repeatedly. After a little bit, Yujin’s hand moved down her body and she began playing with her pussy as she got her ass fucked.

“This is amazing,” the idol loudly moaned.

“Starting to feel good now?”

“Yes!”

“Tell me what do you like better, having something in your ass, or do you just like my dick that much?” Minho said with brazen arrogance.

“Fuck, I can’t tell,” Yujin said as she fingered pussy.

“I guess we’ll find out after you show your boyfriend what you’ve learned,” he said. “Though I’m not sure he’ll believe you when you tell him he’s your first.”

“Why’s that? You plan on stretching me out that much?” Yujin flirted right back at the older man she had inside her ass.

“Put it this way, you might let him use it from time to time, but your…ass…will…forever…belong..to...me,” he informed her, slamming her hard on each of his last seven words.

“Yeah, old man? Is that…is that…ooooooohhhhhhh wowww,” the Damsel actress had her own words interrupted by her body as she climaxed once again. Soaking her hand as she stopped playing with herself. Minho smiled at the fact that the 20-year-old came with a thick cock buried in her ass. As he continued to work his mind was brought back to a moment where Yujin was having a bit of a diva moment on set, and he overheard one of the staff quietly say to other “How big is the stick up that girl’s ass, do you think?” If only those two could see her down.

He did end up letting go of her legs, which Yujin put one up on his shoulder and the other she wrapped behind his ass. He then bent down to kiss the idol, before moving his now free hands to her breast to play with. As they kept going, he thought about seeing if she wanted to try anal cowgirl, but he didn’t have a ton left in him and thought he’d hold off on that until the next round.

“Almost there,” Minho groaned as he continued to pummel her ass. He could feel the cum beginning to bubble up from his ass. It was only a matter of time now.

“Oh, yes. Then give it to me,” Yujin moaned.

“Yeah? You want it?”

“Yes give it to me.”

“Oh, I’ll give it to you,” he told her. Minho then pulled his cock out from her idol’s backdoor, yanked off the condom, and dove his full cock back into her wanting pussy. He then stopped holding back and injected her with his sizable load. It was unclear if it was him stuffing her pussy with his dick or the feeling of him filling her with his jizz that made Yujin orgasm once again, but regardless she let out an orgasmic cry and the body shock as he shot blast after blast of cum inside of her. He did not pull out until his cock had deflated a bit.

“You came inside me,” she said as she rubbed the reddened cunt. Pulling her hand away she saw her fingers were sticky with his cum on them. “You came a lot inside of me.”

“That is what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I did. I love that feeling when a guy does it. Ugghh, wow, and you came so much,” she said as she felt his cum leaking out of her.

“If you liked it that much, I’d happily do it a few more times tonight.”

“I’m sure you would you dirty old man,” Yujin said cheekily. She then asked, “What time is it?”

“A little after one,” he informed her.

“I need to get going.”

“Really? Tapping out already?”

“I should, but tonight was amazing. I can’t believe I took your whole cock in my ass. Hajoon’s going to be in for a surprise later this week.”

“Happy to help,” he said, “and if you need a refresher course before he arrives just let me know. I’d love to be of assistance.”

“How selfless of you,” the idol said sarcastically. “Do you mind if I shower before heading home?”

“Only if I can assist.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Yujin said as she got up from the bed. “Just no sex, or else I might never leave.”

“As far as deterrents go, that’s not much of one,” Minho joked as he led Yujin to his bathroom. He turned on the shower and as Yujin tried pushing some of the cum out off her pussy, Minho went back into the bedroom for a moment and then went back into the bathroom and joined the idol in the shower. He grabbed his loofa, poured some body wash on it, and began washing Yujin. Starting with her shoulders he then moved down and began washing as well as just flat-out playing with her breasts, before taking a knee and washing her legs. He then handed the loofa over to Yujin and she washed him. First his back, then his chest, and then down to between his legs. At one point she stopped pretending with the loofah and just used both her hands to stroke his cock.

“So big,” she said softly with her eyes fixated on his erection. She then looked up at him in the eyes, and told him, “Your cock is truly lovely to look at.”

“Thank you. Your body is quite the sight to behold as well.”

He then told her to turn around. He stepped out of the shower for a moment, before getting back in behind her and taking the loofah, and reapplying more soap to it. He made no effort to keep his erection away from her. Instead, he intently pushed it against her as he reached around her body. He then began to wash her back, eventually moving down to her ass.

“Put your hands against the wall and bend over,” he told her. Yujin looked back at him and gave him a look. He reassured her, “I’m not going to fuck you, I promise.”

He then proceeded to wash her ass in-depth, reaching under her and washing her pussy. He spread her cheeks and dripped some body wash from the bottle down onto her rectum.

“I will tell you, if you really do want to make sure you are ready to surprise your boyfriend, you really should keep wearing this,” he said. He then picked up the buttplug he had snuck into the shower and pressed it against her ass. Yujin gasped as she felt it enter her. It did fit inside her much easier now than it did the first time he put it inside of her. She also enjoyed the feeling of having it inside of her much more. With the plug in and her still bent over, Minho reached under her ass and stuck two fingers and her tight warm cunt. As he fingered her, she leaned over her and said into her ear. “I promised I wouldn’t stick my cock in you, but didn’t say anything about my fingers.”

“So true,” Yujin said before turning her face and kissing him. “Finger my pussy, old man.”

“You like older guys don’t you?” he questioned her.

“Not especially, I just like guys who know what they're doing,” she confessed.

“Well, I do know a trick or two.”

“Yes, you do.” Minho then spun Yujin around so they were facing each other and the two made out while he finger-blasted her against the glass of the shower stall. He hooked his fingers and rubbed her g-spot while his palm brushed against her clit. Yujin also made use of her hands, reaching down and stroking his cock. The two were in a race to see who could use their hands to get the other off the fastest. Minho had a head start so he was able to get Yujin to cream all over his hand first. After her orgasm subsided, she pushed Minho backward, giving her the room to comfortably sink to her knees on the shower floor.

“I bet you’re just like every other guy out there and want to climax all over my face,” she said to him as she began using both hands to stroke his cock.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then do it,” she told him. She looked up and maintained eye contact with him as she frantically jerked him off. Her eyes never left his as she worked his cock. Even when he said he was about to cum, she aimed his cock head directly at her face and kept her eyes open until she felt his first blast hit her on the mouth and nose. As he kept cumming, she could not help but smile as she felt it rain down her face. When she finally stopped feeling his cum, she opened one eye and then moved in and sucked the tip clean of any remaining cum. Minho just stood there and admired the pretty actress's face as it was covered in his spunk.

“How do I look?”

“All those guys who said wished they could give you a facial don’t know what they are missing out on. It’s quite a beautiful sight.” Yujin smiled broadly at his compliment. She licked off some of the cum that had landed on her mouth, and let him admire her face for a little while before she cleaned her face off under the spray of the shower. They each give themselves one last rinse off before turning off the water. Getting out of the shower they toweled off and wrapped themselves up. He kept an eye on her as she dried off and noticed that the idol never made a move to remove the plug in her ass. He then moved back to the bedroom with Yujin following a minute or so later.

“Are you sure you need to leave,” Minho asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed with her throbbing erection at full mass between his legs. Yujin looked down at his hard-on and instinctively licked her lips as she looked at it.

“The girls were right, that thing doesn’t quit, does it?” she said referring to his cock.

“You complaining about that?”

“Hardly. But, I do need to go. I need to get some rest before filming tomorrow,” she said. But then she undid her towel and let it fall to the floor. “But I suppose it would be cruel of me to walk out on you in that state.

Yujin then dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth. She began sucking on her tip and then brought her lips down along the side. “So, tell me,” she asked between slurps “Do you feel bad about sleeping with girls my age? Especially since Wonyoung and me are closer to your son age than yours.”

“I’m fine with it. I felt a little bad when I slept with his prom date during his graduation party.” He admitted. Yujin nearly choked on his cock in surprise when that happened.

“You what?” she asked.

“You heard right.”

“There must be a story there,” Yujin said as she stroked his cock.

“Her older sister was one of his former babysitters, one of the ones I frequently hooked up with, and the older sister told the younger sister about our adventures. So, the younger sister asked my son to prom, and after a disappointing prom night, she cornered me during his graduation party a few weeks later and demanded I give her what her sister had bragged to her about so many times before. So I did. And then I did again a few more times before we moved out to LA.”

“You are so bad,” Yujin said to him, and before bringing her lips back to his cock she added, “and I don’t believe you feel bad about doing her at all.”

“I did feel a little bad afterward doing that behind his back. But the sex itself did feel pretty good in the moment,” he admitted.

“Better than me?” She asked.

“You can’t let anyone win, can you?”

“Nope,” she said before sinking several inches of dick into her mouth. He let the actress suck his cock uninterrupted for several minutes before he spoke up again.

“Let me ask you, do you feel bad about cheating on your boyfriend with me?”

“This wasn’t cheating,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What we did tonight wasn’t cheating?” he questioned her.

“Nope. You were teaching me about anal so I could do it with my boyfriend this week. This was a learning exercise.”

“Okay, sure,” Minho could not help but chuckle at her reasoning.

“When we fuck again next weekend, that will be cheating.”

“Next week?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend leaves on Friday. My manager mentioned how he was leaving Thursday night to go visit his mom, so that means we have a few days where no one is going to be looking for us and checking in on us. So, what better way to spend it than in bed having an obscene about of sex?”

“Are you sure you can handle all that?” he asked her with cocky confidence. “I mean were stopping after only two rounds tonight.”

“That’s because tonight I was just testing you. Seeing if you lived up to the hype. You obviously passed,” she said and then stuck out her tongue and slapped his cock against it. “Next weekend I’ll show you what I can do. After next weekend you’ll be saying I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

“Oh really? So you’ve been holding back this entire time?”

“Yes. Probably 50% effort,” she told him.

“Yeah right, I highly doubt that.” Yujin simply smiled in response and then suddenly she took a majority of his cock into her mouth and did so with a casualty that showed she had been holding back a bit. She deepthroated him for a minute before pulling back and leaving just an inch or so in her mouth. She continued to work his cock, but now the way she moved her hands along his shaft and the way her tongue worked the underside of his dick showed that she had been holding back and she was much more skilled than she had previously shown. She was also now not stopping to talk or make any chit-chat. She was showing a determination to show the older man that the she was better than other more experienced women he had been with. It only took a few minutes until he blew his load down her mouth, and despite the amount, she was able to swallow it all.

“See, and that was just the tip of the iceberg,” Yujin bragged as she stood up and began picking up her discarded clothing. “If I were you, I would take it easy this week. You’re going to need all the energy you can store for next weekend.”

“Sounds good,” he said as he watched her naked body walk around the room. “I’ll see you next weekend,”

With her clothes tucked under her arm, Yujin said “See you around the set tomorrow,” before blowing him a kiss and strutting naked out of his bedroom.

It was two days later that Minho would see Yujin walking with her boyfriend, Hajoon, around the set. Yujin blushed a little when she caught eyes with Minho from across the room. When Minho saw Hajoon walk away, he quietly maneuvered himself around the stage until he was standing next to Yujin.

“So, have you given your boyfriend his gift yet?” Minho quietly asked discreetly.

“I was planning on giving it to him tonight,” Yujin quietly replied with a smile.

“Does that mean, you’re wearing that thing I gave you?”

“Why do you think I haven’t sat down?”

“How does it feel?”

“Good. Though I may need to upgrade to something bigger,” she told him and gave him the biggest devilish smile he’d ever seen before she walked away.

The next morning when he woke up, he texted Yujin asking how things went last night. He did not get an answer right away. It wasn’t until about an hour later that got a reply. She messaged him saying it went well. That was followed up by a close-up mirror photo, with the message saying he could not get enough of it.

The photo was of Yujin’s ass with her cheeks spread apart and some cum trickling out of it. He then asked her if the photo was from last night or if she didn’t reply to his text right away so that her boyfriend could fill her and she could then send him a photo. She replied asking him if he really thought she’d have morning sex with her boyfriend specifically so she could send a teasing picture afterward. As soon as she said that, he knew that is exactly what she did.

Minho got some disappointing news later in the week when Yujin had to cancel their weekend plans. Her boyfriend had surprised her with plans for a weekend getaway trip. She told him she’d make it up to him, and then send a dozen nude pictures of herself, some full body and others close up, to ‘hold him over’ while she was gone. Thought that rain check was probably not going to happen when on Monday morning Yujin put out an Instagram post announcing that she was engaged. Minho congratulated her the next time he saw her on set and jokingly whispered, “I didn’t know he loved you giving him anal that much.” Yujin laughed at that.

He assumed that was it. He thought Yujin was off the board for him. And while he still enjoyed Wonyoung and Gaeul, he was a little disappointed he only got the one crack at the idol. That disappointment went away the Friday after the announcement of her engagement. Sungho had left to go out with several other staff for the night shooting, leaving Minho home alone. Not 15 minutes after Sungho left there was a knock on the door. Minho opened the door and was surprised to find Yujin standing there.

“Hi, old man.”

“Yujin, what are you doing here?” He asked with surprise.

“I told you I was going to make it up to you.”

“I thought that that went out the window when you accepted that ring.” He said looking down at the rock on the idol’s finger.

“I made a promise to Hajoon when I said yes to him, but technically I did make a promise to you first. And I always keep my promises.”

Once she said that Minho stepped aside and let Yujin into the house. “What was that promise again?” he asked playing dumb.

“I believe it was that I was going to show you that I’m the best in bed you’ve ever had.”

“What about Sungho? What happens when he comes home and finds you here?”

“I’ve taken care of that. Wonyoung owed me.”

“I believe you promised me an entire weekend of demonstrating your talents.”

“Wonyoung owed me several IOUs,” she informed him. “Now, why don’t you stop wasting time and take that cock out of your pants?”

#yujin smut #ive smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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everythingmp3 · 4 months ago

Text

changing her ways

adult!Van x fem!reader

when Van invites you over to her place, all she expects is just another meaningless hookup - what happens instead is that she ends up breaking her rule of never letting lovers stay over, never being romantic, never being tender, and the next morning, she doesn´t seem to regret it. not one bit.

authors note: felt like writing some more for her and used the idea of spending the morning with her after a hook-up to explore what it might look like if she met someone she actually liked during her era of "getting her needs met". hope you enjoy <3 (around 6k words)

warnings: some smut, both receiving

it had always sounded a bit cliché to you, sentiments like "love will come to you when you’re least looking for it", but there was a truth at its core, one that applied to how you and Van first crossed paths as lovers.

later on, you would come to look back and feel eternally grateful for the boredom you had felt that Friday night when you and her first met, because the only reason you ended up swiping through dating apps was that you had little else to do.

you weren’t really looking to meet up with anyone, it was more of a game to you, but then, out of nowhere, you were struck by the profile of an older woman. for a moment you hesitated but she was too painfully your type to let the chance pass you by, so you forced yourself to get over your nerves and start a chat with her. to your surprise, it only took her about ten minutes to respond, which you tried to take as a good sign, as encouragement to actually try to get somewhere with her.

Van was a dry texter, not one for chit-chat, so after a few brief words, she cut to the chase and asked you "would you maybe wanna come over for a drink?".

you werent naive, you knew that it was just a more polite way of saying "listen, I am just looking to hook up" but you didn’t mind, in fact, something about her being so forward and shameless about her interest thrilled you, it had its appeal after one too many times of wondering whether a woman was actually flirting or just being friendly - it also helped that she was older, a certain thrill to the feeling of being told "come over here" by someone who naturally held a bit of authority, simply due to your age difference. there was a faint smile of anticipation on your face the whole way over to her place, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as you entered her dark store and climbed the stairs up to her apartment.

the moment Van greeted you, not with a hug but an appreciative long glance over your figure as she stood by the counter and prepared a drink for you, it hit you: she was even hotter than expected. shockingly so. her voice immediately struck you at your core, the way she said "please, come in, sit", low and husky, an almost primal quality to the way your body reacted to her, the total conviction when you thought to yourself "I have to have her".

you tried not to stare too obviously as you waited for her on the couch but in person she was naturally much more striking than in the few photos you´d seen of her; her was outfit simple, a pair of well-fitted jeans and a white shirt, but something about the way the fabric hugged her curves made you feel warm all over when she came closer and joined you on the couch and handed you your glass. her hair fell down her shoulders in soft, thick waves and your fingers already ached with the desire to feel it, your heartbeat quicker when she finally looked at you face-on and seemed to like what she saw, undeniably so.

usually, the drink was only a polite gesture she offered people to make the transition from being strangers into having sex more smooth, with most of her lovers she had made it clear that a few minutes of talking were more than enough for her, she was not the type to dance around why she had invited someone over, but with you it was different.

Van found herself actually enjoying your company, the time passed quickly as you sat there and got to know each other a bit, there was a natural chemistry, a spark, both of you genuinely laughing here and there, getting invested in what the other person was saying, urging each other to go on, to share a bit more. the thing that caught her off-guard was that you were different than the other younger women she´d been with before.

Van tended to go for people who were of a different generation because she liked the control it gave her, the predictability of it, she was used to girls being easily flustered by her, being nervous and not really pushing back, letting her take the lead, but from the first minute you started talking, she realized: oh. this is new. she is not intimidated by me. the moment you told her "most of those tapes down there are older than me, you know", almost as if you were judging her, messing with her a bit, she thought "okay. this could be very fun" and let go of her initial fear of being with an equal.

you fell into a nice rhythm of conversation, so eventually she got you a second drink and completely forgot about her rule of keeping the people she slept with at arms length, anonymous, never asking for more details about their personal life than their first name and age. thirty minutes passed before you both remembered why you´d met up in the first place, which suddenly made you go quiet with anticipation, eyeing each other from up close and almost holding your breaths as you felt just how charged the air had become, how quickly you had managed to sink into a deep attraction to each other, a shared feeling of "I need her. badly.".

it was the first time in ages that Van felt butterflies before leaning into kiss someone, but she did, as she put her hand on your face and felt you meet her halfway to kiss her, deeply, her whole body burning with a fire that she´d long thought extinguished, but there it was, her whole face and chest flush pink from it as she held your face in both of her hands while kissing you, almost as if she was afraid you´d leave, pull back, change your mind, but you were just as eager, if not more, pressing yourself up against her and caressing her hair as you moved on the couch to be half on her lap, closer, as close as possible, her hands wandering down to your thighs to support you, her grip almost bruising in its urgency.

Van had gone a long time without indulging in that kind of sensuality, she hardly ever kissed people for longer than necessary during sex or leading up to it, but right then she remembered how much she had missed it, craved it, her hands all over you as you made out and sighed between kisses, her fingers briefly tilting your head up to allow her better access to your neck as her grip on you tightened - she seemingly wanted to devour you, which killed your ability to remain quiet or composed in any way, as you felt her thigh pressing up between your legs and let out a sound that broke down her last bit of restraint, the second she heard you moan like that for her, she pulled you up to lead you to her bedroom.

once you were both on her bed, after a frantic attempt to get undressed as fast as possible, you got lost in a neediness and desperation for each other that almost scared you, both of you shaking from how turned on you were, wet to a degree that almost hurt as you kissed and moved against each other, her eventually holding your arms down by your sides as you felt her lips and tongue, her teeth, all over your chest and stomach, over your underwear, teasing you, savoring the mess you´d made, before she went down on you like she was close to starving, which she was, after only ever allowing herself rushed and impersonal sex for too long, the kind of sex that was only focused on getting off and nothing more, you could feel it in the way she held your thighs apart and moaned from your taste, that she had not felt arousal like that in ages, and you willingly surrendered, letting her take her time with pleasing you, making you come undone, before you eagerly returned the energy, which turned into a long night of both of you taking turns again and again with helping the other person feel as good as possible, you and her both taking a deep pleasure in the way you managed to both worship and wreck each other, to be in a place of joint helplessness against the wave of desire that had swept you up out of nowhere, that left you raw and open in the most delicious way, sensitive to the smallest touch, the lightest kisses and licks, every little thing you did to each other.

in the middle of it, as Van was melting into you, against your mouth, as she felt another orgasm spreading through her already weak limbs, she thought "this is too intense, stop this, tell her to stop and leave" but she couldn´t bring herself to, you had done the thing she´d considered impossible for a stranger to mange: you´d broken down her walls. you´d made her surrender. you´d gotten under her skin, and as much as she wanted to hate it and tell herself to push you away, all she could think when she saw you look up at her with your chin and lips glistening, a tired but pleased smile on your face, was: this is what I´ve been missing.

the thing that drove you insane that night was that she was sensitive in a way you had no expected at all, you could tell that she was getting something she hadn´t in while from the way she moaned, almost in a pained manner, assuring you that she was fine when you paused to give her a moment to breathe, kissed her face and allowed her to take a second before you continued, her hands on the small of your back to ground herself as she sighed "don´t stop when I seem overwhelmed, just keep going, I want you to, okay?", which you didn´t have to be told twice, leaving both of you ruined by the end of the night before you fell asleep satisfied, tired, tangled up in the crumpled sheets, the pillows in the wrong place, and yet, a deep sense of comfort wrapped around you, Van half-conscious still as she wrapped her arms around you and forgot about her rule of sending people home, never sharing her bed. it felt right, healing in a way, to feel her lovers soft breath as she drifted off, her face close enough to you to be lulled to sleep by the scent of your skin, that she´d quickly become addicted to, a light kiss to your shoulder before sleep took her as well.

the next morning, she woke up earlier than you, so after a while of laying there, Van sat up and rested against the headboard and smiled to herself when you moved to rest on top of her. you were still half-asleep as you laid your head on her chest and savored the feeling of being heavy and limp on top of her, her body still warm from sleep, a feeling of utter ease even though you were in a strangers bed.

if anyone had told Van the evening before how she would start the next day, she would have cringed at the idea of allowing that level of intimacy, but the way you were laying there evoked a foreign mix of both affection and protectiveness in her, as she watched you and ran her palm up and down your back, slowly, eventually caressing your hair, which got a purring sound out of you that made her laugh quietly and ask "comfortable there?", a nod from you and a half-mumbled "yeah.. very.." in response as you kept your eyes closed and felt soothed by the feeling of idle, soft touches.

Van´s body felt both soft and firm under you, a strength to her arms as she held you up that contrasted the tenderness she was offering you, so it took you a while before you managed to pull yourself away and fully wake up. it hit you then that she had been sitting up for a while already, so you propped yourself up on your elbows, looked up at her and asked "wait, how long have you been awake?".

Van shrugged and said "hm, like an hour maybe?".

"what? you´ve been waiting for me to wake up for an hour??", you felt a little guilty then but she smiled and cocked her head "well, it´s not like this is torture exactly, having a pretty girl laying on me." you were charmed and gave her a little nudge before you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs, as Van kept looking at you and reached out caress your sides, "youre a sweet sleeper you know" she mused.

"how so?" you asked, curious then. "I was half awake when you snuggled up to lay your head here" she pointed at the crook of her neck, "kinda like kitten" she added, to tease you a bit, which made you flush and shrug to brush it off, but she went on, a bit more earnest then, "I´m not used to that.. it felt nice". from her that counted as high praise, you could tell from the way she seemed kinda shy about having said it, so you leaned in closer and grinned, "oh really? you usually kick people out after?".

you were half joking but a look of guilt settled on Van´s face, you could basically see her cringe at some of the memories that your question had brought up, so you laughed and said "oh wow", kind of amused by the idea of her being the type to tell hook-ups to leave in the middle of the night. you moved to put your hands on her shoulders and look at her more closely, stunned by her face in the daylight, her freckles that you had only vaguely been aware of the night before, briefly too enamored to speak before you asked "so, are you regretting it now, that you broke that habit and let me stay?".

Van shook her head and gave you a sheepish smile, "oh no, no quite the opposite actually" while pulling you closer, her arms tight around your back as she kissed your neck and breathed in, started feeling you up a bit, turned on by the sweet, slightly disheveled look of you, the clear difference in your ages admittedly a turn-on for her, a rush of possessiveness as she felt you submit to her touch and thought "yeah she´s mine" even though you definitely weren´t, a content "hmmm" sound from you as you ran your fingers through her hair and let her have her way.

after she pulled back, she stared into your eyes, seemingly searching for something in your expression, and smiled as she asked "I have no idea why the fuck you agreed to come here last night. are you sure you´re not having some kind of crisis and I am just taking advantage of it?". the way she phrased that made you laugh before you responded "oh sure, because there is no way I could have found you hot otherwise", your eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded, "yeah, thought so", a subtle smirk that gave away that she was having flashbacks of just how into her you´d been, the things you´d done for her, with her, to her, during the night, so you used the moment of warm silence to briefly snuggle up to her again and rest your head on her shoulder.

after a moment Van nudged you and said "you´re gonna fall asleep again, huh" not displeased by your unconcealed affection, but you protested "no, no I´m good" and sat upright then. "you hungry?" Van asked as she pulled the blanket off and moved to get up "yeah, pretty hungry actually" you admitted while getting out on the other side of the bed, "good, I´ll make you something nice, come, take whatever clothes you want" she told you as she pulled on a shirt and boxer shorts, while gesturing over at her closet, so you quickly opted for a soft oversized t-shirt and some thin cotton shorts, which made her glance over at you with a mix of endearment and lust, the unfamiliar sight of someone in her clothes stirring something deep within her, yet another aspect of romance that shed missed more than she cared to admit.

once you were in her living space again, you instinctively took a seat by the counter as she started rummaging around in the kitchen and told you to sit back and let her do the work, to be her guest, briefly checking for your preferences, how you took your coffee, if you were in the mood for something savory or sweet, if you needed some water or juice or both, taking pleasure in the unfamiliar act of serving her lover something to eat.

as she moved around the kitchen, you sat with your head leaning on your hand, watching her, which she would have shut down with a "you´re staring." if it had been anyone else, but with you, in that moment, the attention was invited, you could tell from the way she carried out certain movements that she was aware of you gaze and enjoying it, playing into it a bit, a silent erotic communication between you. "are you hungover at all?" she asked you, as she put some finishing touches on the two plates she was assorting for you, so you had to suppress a laugh as you eyed her and answered "hungover? from two drinks?...".

Van shot you a glare and waved you off, "forget it. enjoy this while it lasts, its not gonna be so funny when youre my age" flipping her hair over her shoulder before turning around and getting something else from the fridge. "I can only hope to look as good as you then" you told her in a purposely overly sweet tone, batting your eyelashes at her when she turned back around and gave you another critical look, trying her best not to appear flustered, the flush on her cheeks betraying her, "easy there." she warned you, without any true heat behind the words. "you´re trouble, huh" she said, more to herself than you, as she poured the coffee and saw how pleased with yourself you looked, sitting there, taking in the view of her growing a little hot from your unwavering attention, "me?" you asked, feigning innocence, to which she only said "yeah, you Miss", smiling, both amused and a little frustrated how easy it was for you to get a rise out of her, after years of her considering herself stone-cold.

after she slid the finished plates over to where you were already sitting, she walked around to join you but stopped as she stood right behind you she paused, and without thinking she followed the instinct she felt then and slid her arms around your waist from behind, rested her head on your shoulder, shut her eyes for a second. you rested your hands over hers and soaked up the unexpected sudden tenderness, the way she audibly breathed out, almost as if some ancient weight was falling off from her shoulders, which perhaps was close to the truth, something about her touch tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, as if she was making sure she hadn´t just dreamed you up.

after a few seconds of allowing herself to fully drop her walls, she pulled herself away and seemed a little shy afterwards as she took her place next to you and joined you in taking a first few bites, you just smiling to yourself instead of commenting on it.

for a few minutes you ate in relative silence, both of you only then realizing how starved the hours of fucking had left you, the morning sun casting the room in a soothing hue of gold, her hair even prettier then than the night before, glowing almost. you paused your eating to look at her from the side as she wiped a few crumbs from her mouth, absentmindedly pushed her hair back, seemed a little zoned out, which gave you the chance to shamelessly stare for a while, your gaze roaming over her, settling on her mid-thighs, where her plaid boxers had moved up a bit, revealing a decent amount of her leg, the faint freckles, which reminded you of how soft her skin had felt against yours, how sexy it was to you, that she had a certain delicate quality, something girl-ish almost in certain lights, fragile even, that opposed her tough vibe, her deep voice, her aura of "don´t mess with me".

you couldn´t help but reach out to caress her thigh, while saying "you look hot like this" tracing a line down her skin, which made her turn to you and say "likewise" in a low tone, as she gave you an equally appraising look and placed her hand over yours and kept it pressed against her leg for a beat longer, a shared pang of need detectable in both of your expressions then, an electricty as you looked eyes and saw your want mirror back to yourself. you both seemed to be getting flashbacks right then as you cleared your throat and removed your hand, trying to act casual, eating a bit more, while you were both left with tingling sensations all over your body where you´d felt the other´s hands and lips the night before, the sounds and taste of it coming back to you as well, the sensations that had banished all thoughts from your mind except one word, repeating, "more, more, more".

"we were pretty eager, huh..." Van said in a barely audible tone, which made you smile and say "yeah..", remembering how you had both moaned desperately just from kissing, how you´d already come close to finishing just from grinding up against each other before actually having sex, the neediness, the way you´d abandoned all pretense and let the other one see you in a state that could be considered undignified, considering the way you´d both begged each other to be taken, devoured. it had been unexpectedly intimate for a first time, it was palpable in the way you glanced at each other then and felt almost a little smug about how well you had fit together, physically, how hot the memories were to you.

you were both quietly getting turned on again, but you managed to keep it subtle for the time being, so you gestured at the empty plates and asked "so, if you dont let people stay usually, I´m assuming this is also not a common occurence?". Van nodded and leaned in a bit as she said "yes, correct, you cheated your way into this position, played some dirty tricks on me" a tap to your forearm, a hint of amusement to her demeanor when she saw the flicker of pride in your eyes, since you did love the idea of being an exception, having her in a way few others did, or even better, nobody else.

you could tell she was thinking of something then, so you nudged her and asked "what?" genuinely curious. "oh it´s just, it´s been a while since it felt the way it did last night..." she said, a little more earnest then, so your curiosity was peaked and you turned to face her more directly, your knee briefly brushing hers, another rush of warmth that you both felt at the same time. "how so?" you asked. she drummed her fingers on the counter and thought for a second before explaining "this might sound a bit corny but I usually feel like people aren´t really seeing me, like they see a role I could play for them, if that makes sense? and sometimes that can be fun or whatever, playing the part, I am fine with that, I sought it out, but with you... I don´t know. you paid attention in a way that felt kinda intense, like you were actually trying to understand me.. you were sweet, hard to describe, but I missed that, feeling like I might like to be friends with the person I am seeing"

you understood what she meant and it flattered you, the way she´d put that, so you made as sound of agreement and said "yeah, it felt natural, easy", "exactly yes" Van affirmed, looking up at you again then, a warm smile before she added "and you know, it also helped that you’re fucking hot." she briefly caressed your cheek when she saw the subtle bashfulness she´d elicited with that comment, it came out of nowhere and left her feeling exposed in her affection for you, but the way you leaned into her palm killed any instinct to reel it back in. you returned the energy by leaning over and giving her a lingering kiss, your hand on her neck, remaining only a few inches from her face when you told her "I wouldn´t have been able to tell that youre not used to all this if you hadn´t told me" which you meant, she was far from unromantic and detached with you, which didn´t match her own description of herself, the way she usually went about intimacy, so she grinned and ran her hands down your back as she whispered "well, I had some practice earlier in life".

you nodded and took in her features from up close, her pink lips, her freckled nose, the deep blue of her eyes and said "right. broke some hearts, didn´t you?", which made her laugh and shrug "maybe. got mine shattered too though, so, balances out" you could detect a truth in there, which made you wonder what exactly that heartbreak had entailed, how her life had looked, a sudden need to know much more about this woman you´d so randomly come to feel deeply connected to just within a night. "god that just made me sound old as fuck huh" she sighed and shook her head while taking the dirty dishes over the sink, which made you laugh and play along with it by saying "maybe".

since breakfast was over, you were both eager to be more comfortable again and moved to the couch, where she urged you to lay your legs over her lap, instead of sitting there all polite with them crossed, her hands immediately settling on your knees, rubbing up and down a little. Van was stunned by how easy it was for her to slip back into the physicality she had had with girlfriends, people she´d actually cared for, she realized how good it felt to just lounge around with a lover, that it came naturally to her, that her fears of it had been unjustified, it was a hard truth to accept for her but as you got comfortable with your legs sprawled out over her, she couldn´t deny that in her heart, she´d been longing for it, a girl to call her own again.

"so. are you counting down the minutes until you can leave?" she joked, which amused you, considering just how obviously you were enjoying yourself in that position, so you joked back and said "oh sure, I am clearly dying to run off". "but on a real note, do you want a ride home when you go? Id be happy to drive you home", she asked, and you appreciated the offer but the feel of her hands on you made it hard to accept it, you wanted nothing less than to leave but you also didnt wanna impose, so you tentatively said "well... I mean I don´t really need to be anywhere today, so.." hoping she´d catch on to the subtext there, which she did, charmed by your hesitation, the nervousness that contrasted the boldness you´d already shown her, a mix that she liked, kept her intrigued. "ah, I see, do you maybe wanna stay for a bit longer then?" she suggested, before she could talk herself into sabbotaging this fresh, strangely enjoyable romance shed stumbled into without even realizing at first the night before.

"yes" you said, a bit too fast, eager to accept the offer, sensing that she was also glad to have a bit more time with you, so you pushed your luck a bit and added "I mean, not to be clingy but if you want I could get some of my stuff later and stay another night? I liked sleeping with you.." you meant the actual act of sleeping, but the double meaning was also true, so you didn´t correct yourself when you realized how that had come out. Van smiled and nodded, her hands still on your legs, squeezing lightly, "yeah, me too. and you could also just use my things and not leave at all".

you shared a look of fondness as you both realized that you weren´t alone in your need to stay together for the time being, "yeah, let´s do it that way" you agreed. "but be warned" Van said, lowering her voice for dramatic effect, "you might get really fucking tired of me in like two hours. I am sure you´re used to company that´s more.. well, like you". you leaned in a bit, "like me?", Van pulled you even closer then, grabbed your arm and grinned and as she finished her thought "oh you know, young, fun, dazzling" clearly messing with you, laying it on thick, but a genuine compliment hidden in there, which made you lean closer too and brush a strand of hair out of her face as you smiled, "I´ll manage, and who knows, maybe some of it will rub off on you" teasing her a little, running your hand down her side, leaving it to rest on her waist.

"god willing" she whispered and used her strength to pull you up against her for good, sighing "come here" as she felt you adjust your position and climb half on top of her, your thighs pressing down against hers. it took her only a second to pull you in for a proper kiss, the kind you hadn´t shared yet that morning, a shared sigh as you started making out, slowly, drawing each kiss out, her hands under your shirt, yours on her neck, her taste both sweet and still lightly bitter from the coffee, faint whimpering sounds from her when you grew hungry and licked over her bottom lip, felt for her tongue with yours, felt her surrender to it, her mouth open, a sloppiness to your kisses that made it hard not to wanna do more, so once you felt yourselves growing a bit too hot too fast, you pulled back to breathe, to ground yourselves, hands still gripping each other´s shirts tightly.

you smiled at her, pleased by the sight of her flushed face, her glistening lips, and said "you´re kinda selfish you know". Van was still dazed from before but snapped out of it to respond "huh??", the offense in her tone making you laugh as you played with her hair, "all of this, so much space up here and you never let lovers stay".

"well, I am not great company usually, so, did them a favor" she uttered, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "so, you work alone downstairs all day and then spend the nights up here alone too?", "yeah pretty much..." she admitted, aware that she lived a kind of hermit lifestyle. "how have you not lost your mind?" you asked, half-joking, which made her grin, a flicker of mischief, "who says I haven´t?" staring into your eyes as she said it.

"right, sure" you said, amused by her quick wit, acutely aware of the heat where your skin was still pressing down against hers, a subtle heat growing where only some very thin fabric was keeping you from feeling her the way you wanted to, a light shit of your position that didn´t escape her, that made her push her thigh up a bit to fuck with you, to hear the sigh you inevitably let out. "yeah don´t say I didn´t warn you later on" she whispered. "warn me? I think I can handle a middle aged loner" you retorted and pushed your hands into her hair, not very gently, payback, aware that it made her weak to be handled like that. "you don´t know the half of it, lady" she said while smiling up at you, not backing down, so you moved one of your hands to her face, tracing her scars with your index finger while asking "oh yeah? something to do with this maybe?".

"maybe" Van echoed, smug, watching you briefly get lost in the act of closely inspecting the red lines that graced her pretty face, pleased by the way she could see the wheels turn behind your eyes. in a way that was perhaps a bit twisted, it did turn her on, to know that you had no idea that she had once been feral, that she had hunted and eaten people before, that she had a capacity for animalistic behavior that surpassed what you were assuming right then, mostly because something told her that you might be the kind of girl who wouldn´t just be shocked but also a little into it, the idea of her being capable of things like that, she´d just known you for a night, but she was nearly certain that the reaction she could get out of you would be priceless.

"tell me then, what dark secret are you keeping?" you asked her, your nose almost brushing hers from how close you were, her breath hot against your lips as she shook her head "lets maybe go on a date first before I spill that to you, hm". "this isn´t a date?" you asked, feigning ignorance, pretending to be a little disappointed, so she laughed "no, this is what you´d call a hookup, sorry to say sweetie" a faux act of consolation then, a few light slaps to your upper thigh. "but" she added "we can turn it into a date". you moved a bit then, to sit next to her again instead of on her, your hand reaching for hers, unwilling to let go of her. "when´s the last time you´ve been on one? do you remember how to behave?" you teased, which earned you a shove in the side "very funny, yes I do recall".

"okay, what do you wanna do today then, hm?" you asked, elbow propped up on the couch to look at her while resting your head against your arm. "oh lets see" she said, while tilting her head back for a second, looking at the ceiling as she felt her fingers laced through yours and thought about it. "we could enjoy the sun, walk around for a bit, go to this nice cafe I know for lunch, its really fucking good" you nodded, more than happy to spend your day like that, but before you could say anything about it, she beat you to it by moving closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist, and saying "but before all that... I think we should go back to bed for a while" an authority, a determination to he tone then that made your face feel hot under her unyielding gaze. "yeah, agree..." you said and pushed her back against the couch cushion to grope her, out of nowhere, a self-satisfied grin when you heard her groan "fuck" from the feel of your fingers digging into her chest over her shirt, "you´re so sensitive" you teased, not letting up, kissing her cheek as she grew needier by the second, "yeah and you´re relentless" she uttered, briefly submitting to your force before she used the position she was in to move her hand down your shorts, only to tease, but the second she brushed over you, the whine you let out told her: keep going. she wants more.

so she held you close as she used the other hand to tease you, not fully jerking you off, but playing with you, moving her fingertips up and down, feeling some of the wetness that had gathered, using it to press down against your clit and draw achingly slow circles as you clung to her, eyes shut, hips jerking a bit to meet her hand, nodding, your lips parted as you sighed "please dont stop..". Van took the chance to kiss your neck, to have you fully melt against her, her fingers adding some more pressure as you grew soaked for her and tilted your head to the side to let her kiss all the way up to your jaw, faint sighs as she breathed in your scent, got high on the feeling of having you that pliant and soft for her, so receptive, whispering sweet things to you as it took you no time at all to feel a climax go through you, less intense than the ones you´d had the night before, but still, enough to leave you weak and wanting more, much more. her fingers were still on you, drawing out some last few jolts of pleasure, as you leaned in to her ear and sighed "I wanna feel you... I wanna feel you come against me..".

"jesus..." Van groaned at the thought, since that was another thing that she´d stopped allowing herself, anything like tribbing was off the table with hookups, since she knew how much she enjoyed it when she was really into someone, how sensitive to that sensation she was, how easily it could turn her into a whimpering mess, but she couldn´t deny you, not then, not while still feeling your mess all over her fingers and already growing wet herself from the thought of having your cunt pressed up against hers, for a torturous amount of time, she wanted it to hurt, to be too much almost, so she nodded, her voice cracked with lust as she said "yeah.. yeah okay, come", pulling you up from the couch to have fantasy become reality as fast as possible.

you both quickly undressed and settled back into her bed, her sitting back against the pillows as you tried to find the best angle and moved her leg up to put yours under it, adjusting your hips until you both moaned in agreement when you found the right spot. you were both turned on enough to a point where you didn´t need spit or lube to make yourselves slick enough, your arousals mixing as you started grinding down against her and saw her shut her eyes, trying her best not to sound pathetic, while already feeling like she might lose her mind just from watching you move against her like that, hearing you whimper from it, since it felt even better than expected, an intensity to the feeling of your cunts almost making out in a way that left you weak in the most maddening way.

Van was happy to just sit there and grab your waist in support as you trapped her in a way, made her submit to your pace, the way you rubbed yourself up against her, that delicious sense of helplessness that she had always craved in bed, which you could tell from the way she shook and uttered broken up phrases between her moans like "god.. don’t stop..." and "so fucking pretty...", watching you in awe as you purposely drew it out and waited until she was close to finishing to join her and feel your orgasms hit you at the same time, eyes locked as you rode it out and were both left wrecked and breathless from it.

after you moved down from her, you could tell that she was still somewhat riled up, so you touched her where she was slicked up from both your and her own cum, moved your head down to lick over her chest and suck on one of her tits, as you felt her hold your head in place, almost as if to prevent you from stopping, to make you keep her sensitive flesh in your mouth, and drew out another high, a follow-up one that was less intense but just a needed extra release, a pleased smiled on her face after you finally moved away and laid down next to her, a barely audible "fucking hell…" that made you feel a rush of pride.

after a minute of satisfied silence, you both turned to look at each other from the side and mirrored the action of tracing each others outline, your leg draped over hers, a the room warm and quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows on the floor, over your figures.

Van was the first to speak again, "thank god you were reckless enough to come to some strangers house without even facetiming or calling before. that was kinda risky you know.." a hint of respect in there for how bold you´d been.

you smiled and answered "well. it paid off. and I am done with all that for now, so, no danger there". Van´s eyes lit up when she registered the subtext there and inquired "oh yeah?" to hear it confirmed, that you wanted to keep seeing her, only her. "yeah" you whispered and caressed her arm, "me too" she said, relieved that the days of meeting strangers for meaningless sex might just be coming to an end, that she was entering a new era, that romance was slowly entering her life again, the doors to it opened by your hands.

there was a deep sense of ease in the air then, neither of you were able to stop smiling from it, you didn´t have to say a thing to know what the other was thinking:

this is only the very beginning. I can´t wait to get to know you. all of you.

#I definitely still think of her in season two while writing these #like thats the Van I see in my mind <3 dont make me think about what theyre doing in season 3.#van palmer x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets

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purinrei · 4 months ago

Text

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ RED FLAG

⋆˚˖ wc. 2.3k+ ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ p. sylus x fem!reader ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ nsfw mdni

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cw: heavy degradation, dom!sylus, overstimulation, choking, face-fucking, rough handling, light pain play (spanking), power dynamics, sylus being a menace, explicit language, and intense tension.

this may or may not be cannon, I’ll let you decide..

y’all I know it’s a little repetitive.. i wrote it, also lowercase is intended, the caps were making me angry to type so I js did it in all lowercase. Happy reading

the fight started like it always did—sharp words, frustration burning in your chest, and sylus standing there like he had all the time in the world.

“you don’t get to decide things for me, sylus!” your voice cracked as you glared at him, fists clenched at your sides. “you disappear, you throw yourself into danger, and I’m just supposed to be okay with it?”

sylus exhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded and unreadable. “kitten,” he drawled, “i handle things my way. you knew that from the start.”

“you don’t handle things, you shut me out!” you nails dug into your palms, frustration twisting into something raw. “you act like nothing matters, not me, not what I think, not what happens to you—”

sylus was on you in an instant, his hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“careful,” he murmured, red eyes burning into yours. “you’re starting to sound like you think you can tell me what to do.”

your breath hitched, your body tensing, but it wasn’t fear keeping you still—it was him. that steady, unshaken control that wrapped around you like a vice.

his thumb brushed your lip, slow and deliberate. “you’re cute when you’re mad,” he said, tilting his head. “all bark, no bite.”

you tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“you piss me off,” you snapped, but the heat in your voice wasn’t just anger anymore.

sylus smirked. “that so?” his fingers traced along your jaw, his touch featherlight, mocking. “then why are you still standing here, kitten?”

because he knew.

knew how to unravel you. knew that every sharp word, every push and pull, only made you want him more.

and worst of all? he knew you liked it.

your silence made his smirk widen. “that’s what i thought.”

his other hand skimmed down your waist, slow, lazy, like he had all the time in the world. his fingers trailed lower, playing with the waistband of your shorts.

your breath hitched. “sylus—”

“you’ve got a real mouth on you,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “maybe I should put it to better use.”

before you could react, he was sinking to his knees.

your heart slammed against your ribs. “wait—”

“why?” his hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place as he looked up at you through thick lashes. “scared you won’t be able to stand once I’m done with you?”

your stomach flipped. “sylus—”

he chuckled, dark and low. “that’s cute.”

then he hooked his fingers into your shorts and yanked them down.

you gasped as the cool air hit your skin, but sylus didn’t give you time to react. he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, his teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver.

your hands flew to his shoulders, trying to keep your balance as he nudged your legs further apart.

“already trembling,” he mused, pressing a hot kiss against your clothed core. “and i haven’t even started yet.”

you whimpered, your fingers tightening against him.

Sylus clicked his tongue. “what happened to all that fire, kitten? just a minute ago, you were so eager to put me in my place.”

his teeth grazed against the thin fabric, a teasing pressure that made your legs shake.

“you—” your voice broke as he dragged his tongue over the soaked fabric, slow and deliberate.

“me?” His breath was warm against you. “i think you meant please, sylus.”

you swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desperation.

he exhaled, amused. “suit yourself.”

then he pulled your panties aside and licked a long, slow stripe through your folds.

your whole body jerked, a choked moan slipping past your lips.

sylus groaned against you. “sweet as always,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

his grip on your thighs tightened as he buried his face between them, licking into you with a slow, torturous precision.

your head tilted back, a breathless whine escaping you.

he hummed in approval, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. “look at you,” he murmured between lazy strokes of his tongue. “falling apart already.”

you gasped as he sucked lightly on your clit, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“s-sylus—”

“you taste desperate,” he mused, his fingers digging into your thighs. “like you’ve been waiting for this.”

youYou had, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying it.

he smirked against you. “still holding out?” his tongue flicked over your clit, teasing, taunting. “i can be patient, kitten.”

you whimpered, your thighs trembling around his head.

sylus chuckled darkly. “or maybe i should just keep you like this. weak. shaking. begging.”

your pride shattered. “please,” you gasped. “sylus, please—”

his grip tightened. “that’s better.”

then he pressed his tongue flat against your clit and devoured you.

your knees buckled, a broken cry ripping from your throat as pleasure slammed into you.

sylus groaned against you, drinking in every sound, every tremble, every sharp gasp.

and just when you thought you’d finally tip over the edge—he stopped.

a whimper tore from your lips. “no—”

sylus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, red eyes gleaming with amusement. “you don’t get to cum yet, kitten.”

you stared at him, still shaking, your breath uneven. “you bastard—”

he laughed, slow and dark. “you’re so cute.”

then he flipped you onto the couch, pinning you beneath him with ease.

“you really think you get to tell me what to do?” his fingers slipped between your legs, sliding over your soaked folds. “look at you. dripping all over my fingers. desperate. pathetic.”

you whimpered, your body arching into him.

sylus smirked, pressing his lips to your ear. “now, let’s see how much you can take before i finally fuck you.”

sylus had you right where he wanted you.

pinned beneath him, legs spread, your body still trembling from the way he’d devoured you—only to stop just before you could fall apart.

you whimpered, your nails digging into his arms. “sylus—”

he smirked, red eyes gleaming as he tilted his head. “that’s not my problem, kitten.” his fingers trailed along your thigh, light, teasing. “you should’ve begged sooner.”

your hips bucked against him, desperate for something, but sylus only clicked his tongue.

“look at you,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “still so needy. you just don’t learn, do you?”

his fingers traced lower, skimming over your soaked entrance but not pushing in. just hovering, making you squirm.

“you’re dripping,” he mused, as if you were the one at fault. “and all for me.”

you whimpered, your breathing uneven. “please—”

sylus exhaled, pleased. “better,” he murmured. “but not good enough.”

then he slapped your soaked cunt.

you gasped, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the sting shot through you—sharp, sudden, and so good it made your body jerk.

sylus chuckled darkly. “that got your attention.”

you trembled beneath him, your legs weak as he slid his fingers between your folds, rubbing slow, lazy circles around your entrance.

“such a mess,” he murmured, almost mockingly. “all that fight, all that attitude—just to end up like this. weak. helpless.”

his fingers dipped in, barely, before pulling back out, teasing you mercilessly.

you let out a choked whimper, your nails raking down his arms. “sylus, please—”

“please what?” His voice was a purr, smooth and taunting. “use your words, kitten.”

you swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desperation.

sylus sighed, clicking his tongue. “still stubborn?” his fingers slid in—just enough to make you moan—before withdrawing again. “maybe I should just leave you like this.”

your eyes snapped open in panic. “no!—”

he smirked, amused by how quickly you broke. “then say it.”

your pride shattered. “please,” you gasped. “please, sylus—f-fuck me, use me, just—just do something—”

sylus groaned, his fingers tightening around your waist. “good girl.”

then he slammed two fingers inside you.

your back arched instantly, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as he curled them, pressing right against that spot that made your legs shake.

“fuck,” sylus muttered, watching your reaction with dark satisfaction. “took you long enough.”

his fingers pumped into you, slow but deep, dragging along your walls with calculated precision.

you whined, your body writhing beneath him.

“that’s it,” he murmured. “whine for me. let me hear how pathetic you sound when I fuck you with my fingers.”

you gasped, your nails scraping down his arms as his pace quickened, his fingers fucking into you so deep you could barely think.

hell, you could barely form words, your moans spilling out in ragged, broken gasps as he fucked you open with his fingers, stretching you, making sure you felt every inch.

“look at you,” sylus murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “so dumb. so fucking wet.”

his fingers curled, hitting that spot again, making you cry out.

“you gonna cum?” he taunted. “gonna soak my hand like the needy little thing you are?”

you nodded frantically, your breath hitching. “please—”

sylus chuckled, low and dark. “too bad.”

then he pulled his fingers out.

a broken whimper left your throat, your body trembling as you were left aching, so close, so close..

sylus brought his fingers to his lips, his red eyes never leaving yours as he licked them clean.

you shuddered.

his smirk widened. “you taste fucking perfect.”

then he was pressing you back down, his body covering yours, the heat of him making you whimper.

his hand slid between your legs, teasing you with the tip of his cock, rubbing against your entrance but not pushing in.

“you want it, kitten?” his voice was silk, smooth and taunting.

you nodded, your hands clutching at him. “mhm—”

sylus hummed. “i dunno,” he mused, dragging his cock against you, making you feel how thick he was. “you’ve been pretty fucking bratty tonight.”

you whimpered, trying to press down, to take him yourself—

sylus grabbed your hips, holding you still.

“ah, ah,” he tsked, his grip bruising. “not until I say so.”

tears pricked at your eyes from the need. “sylus, please, i—i need it, i need you—”

his lips curled into a smirk, his red eyes gleaming.

“that’s better,” he murmured.

then he pushed in.

slowly.

your breath hitched, your back arching as he stretched you inch by inch, making you feel every part of him.

sylus groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “fuck, you’re tight.”

you gasped, nails digging into his back as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

sylus leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “you belong to me, kitten.”

you were a mess.

your body trembled, your breath shaky, your skin burning with overstimulation. sylus had already dragged you through wave after wave of pleasure, leaving you whimpering beneath him, barely able to keep yourself upright. but he wasn’t done with you yet.

his red eyes burned as he watched you—ruined, desperate, still needing more. his smirk curled, sharp and teasing.

“look at you,” he muttered, his grip tightening around your waist before dragging his fingers up your body, stopping at your chin. he tilted your face up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “you’re wrecked, kitten.”

you gasped as he pulled away completely, your body aching at the loss, a desperate whine slipping from your lips.

sylus chuckled, dark and low. “dont pout.” his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging sharply as he guided you down onto your knees. “you know what to do.”

you barely had time to breathe before he pressed himself against your lips. you opened for him, letting him slide inside, your tongue curling around him as you hollowed your cheeks.

“fuck,” sylus groaned, his head tipping back for a brief moment before his red eyes dropped to you again, his grip in your hair tightening. “that’s it—take me in.”

he didn’t let you set the pace. his hand held you there, guiding your movements, forcing you to take him deep. you gagged, your throat tightening around him, and he grinned.

“you love this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice thick with amusement. “on your knees, drooling all over me. so fucking desperate to be used.”

you moaned around him, your hands gripping his thighs, your nails digging into his skin. he groaned at the sensation, his pace quickening, his pleasure unraveling—

but then his free hand slid between your legs.

your whole body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping around him as his fingers found your slick, already sensitive from everything he’d done to you before. but sylus was relentless, two fingers sliding in with ease, curling just right—

your eyes rolled back, a muffled whimper escaping your throat.

sylus chuckled, his smirk sharp. “oh? you weren’t expecting that?” his fingers thrust deep, his pace perfectly matching the way he fucked into your mouth. “you’re so easy to play with, kitten. so fucking responsive.”

you trembled, pleasure coiling tight in your core. his fingers were ruthless, pressing against that perfect spot inside you, dragging you higher and higher—

“you better cum before I do,” sylus warned, his voice dark, amused. “or I won’t let you.”

your entire body tensed, your release hitting you hard, pleasure crashing over you as you came undone around his fingers. you gasped, whimpering against him, your thighs shaking—

and sylus groaned, his grip tightening in your hair. “dont spill a fucking drop.”

he thrust deep, his release spilling into your mouth as you swallowed around him, your body still trembling from your own orgasm.

he watched you, red eyes sharp, his fingers still buried inside you, dragging out every last aftershock before finally pulling away.

but he didn’t let go of you.

his fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up. “open your mouth.”

you did, your lips parting, tongue out, showing him you’d swallowed everything.

sylus smirked, pleased. “good girl.”

his fingers brushed over your jaw, his voice dropping into something lower, more dangerous. “if you hadn’t—” he chuckled, thumb dragging along your swollen bottom lip. “i would’ve had to teach you a lesson.”

and the look in his eyes told you he meant it.

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