#I Will Consult The Group Chat

[an-aura-about-you]

I fucking love my new schedule. I work three days at the office and two days at home, which is not as good as working at home all the time but also is not as bad as going there every other week. And now I go in a little earlier, leave a little earlier, and have an hour long lunch.

Right now, the only flaw is whenever I'm working from home, it feels like It's The Weekend Already. And THIS weekend I'm meeting up with friends for Indian food and hanging out/a chill games night, and I Am So Fucking Ready For That.

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[thesinglesock]

ngl I was a little surprised when I first saw people describing Falin as a "masculine" woman. like this is just what the average Northern European woman looks like on a regular day:

and this is literally what me and my roomates look like when we "dress up" to go out and eat:

(image source) Maybe add like a neck cerchief and some bright nail polish. if you go any more "girly" than that and the waiter might ask whose birthday it is.

[lovevalley45]

i have been challenged to write trollhunters fanfic in the year of our lord 2024 (thanks @lgbtqforeverything) and u know u truly don’t realize how little u remember about a show until u have to try and think of smth to write about like. FUCK lol

[blckasf]

Everyone wore black while I’m wearing bright pink wooow

[veikkoalen]

im very curious about the thing ive noticed on the new job: we have some amount of the call lines and the only real thing different about them from my point of view is the number we get on the browser tab (ex. line 8 is sbfle08, line 3 sbfle03 etc). you can switch lines by relogging onto the website. our superiors ask us to switch the lines when we get terrible calls in the row

i asked one of them "does the line switching actually helps or is it just a superstition?"

he responded with "yes"...

[vinmauro]

i love the absolute attitude in this text from my manager. like yeah, love waking up to that. sorry we didn’t hear from you for a couple days and want to know how you’re feeling.

[arminsumi]

I want to kiss you — キスしたい

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

NOTE : there's more parts planned for this, i just wanted to get at least this continuation out ✌️ it's maybe gonna be a bit of a slowburn thing, bc personally i love anticipating the buildup of two characters kissing. and also ugh i have such cute ideas in the drafts for this! like you and him using a magnetic drawing board to write down things that you take turns deciphering. and him writing a whole diary of his thoughts that he wishes he could voice to you, that he gives to you when you're leaving at the end of your visit 🥺 anyways!! lmk if you want to be tagged for any continuations pwease i'd value ur engagement very much !!

SUMMARY — you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

WARNINGS — slight underlying romantic tension between you and Suguru sooo potential love triangle?! one bed trope (you + Satoru), ik google translate is inaccurate but 🤷‍♀️ oh well

WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.6k

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

A continuation of this post

Satoru's never really been in love before.

Sure, in high school he experienced crushes and a handful of dates. But the crushes were shallow and short-lived, and the dates were lousy and forgettable.

But you? Well it's funny, see, you live on a whole different continent and can't speak his language, and yet to him you're as unforgettable as the scent of spring.

His feelings for you seep into his skin slowly, beautifully; and yet he can't express a single one to you because he too can't speak your language.

During late-night video calls, Suguru tries to bridge the gap between you and his best friend. And in your group chat, both Shoko and Suguru combine their skills to help you and Satoru understand each other. They do it because they see how badly the both of you want to know more about each other; especially Satoru.

Satoru has never been so infatuated before; never quite so curious and unashamedly intrigued with someone else. You're all he thinks about day and night.

When you speak, he desperately strains his ears. When you text, he consults the dreaded Google translate. And he's always nagging Suguru to translate everything, because he wants to know your every thought and expression.

Around a year and a half after meeting you, Satoru realizes something when he's lazing in his bed with his fluffy white cat curled up on his stomach as it rises and falls with his gentle breathing.

He likes you.

On call, when you giggle at the cat's fluffy tail blocking the webcam, Satoru thinks;

あなたの笑いが大好きです I love your laugh.

When talking about you with Suguru, he receives a little teasing smirk from him.

あなたは彼女が好きですよね？ You like her, huh?

During lonely nights, he scrolls through your socials and stares longingly at photos of you, ones where you're hanging out with your real-life friends or family.

とても羨ましいです。私も彼女に近づきたいです。 I'm so jealous. I want to be close to her, too.

Listening to you attempt to speak Japanese on a call while him and Suguru are on a walk around Tokyo, he thinks;

私の言語であなたの声を聞くのが大好きです。 I love hearing your voice in my language.

Any photo of your face that you personally sent him, he looks at with heart eyes and saves immediately.

キスしたい。 I want to kiss you.

He'd be lying if he said he never pressed his lips to his screen and closed his eyes, pretending he was kissing you.

Satoru thinks poetically about you. He pens down these elaborative thoughts into his diary that he plans to give you one day. Maybe then you can get an idea of how deeply he thinks about you.

But even if he could speak English fluently, or you could speak Japanese fluently, he's sure neither language could be descriptive enough when it comes to his feelings for you.

He tries so hard to learn some phrases in anticipation of your upcoming visit, but all he can say when he meets you for the first time at Haneda airport is;

"Hi."

And he waves cutely.

"Hi!" you giggle, waving back.

And all at once, there's a bunch of thoughts buzzing in his head. He's looking at you like he's captivated. Even if he knew any solid English, he's sure he'd be speechless anyways.

実物の彼女はもっと美しい、信じられない。 She's even more beautiful in real life, I can't believe it.

彼女が何を言っているのか全く分かりませんが、いい感じですね。耳元で聞く彼女の声だけが私が望んでいたものです。 I have no idea what she's saying, but it sounds good. Her voice in my ear is all I wanted.

なぜ彼女は私ではなくスグルを抱きしめたのでしょうか？その瞬間は混乱の渦だったのでしょうか、それとも彼女は私を抱きしめたくなかったのでしょうか？ Why did she hug Suguru instead of me? Was that moment a whirlwind of confusion, or did she just not want to hug me?

When you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, the boys wait for you in their seats at the little airport cafe. The neon sign glows yellow above, plants hang from the ceiling; it's a busy place.

They're talking about you over their beverages.

Satoru groans dramatically, throwing his head back, fluffy hair flopping cutely.

"Oh Satoru," Suguru chuckles, "What's the matter? Why the groan?"

"I want to hug her."

Suguru's heart melts. "Then hug her. She doesn't bite. I think she wants to hug you, too."

"But then why didn't she hug me like she hugged you earlier? Maybe I don't seem huggable to her..."

"It was a rushed moment, she had just arrived you know? Don't overthink. Satoru, just hug her."

Satoru lets out a long, stifled noise that's a mix between a groan and a sigh. He tilts his whole body back, balancing precariously on the plastic chair. Rubbing his eyes until he sees some phosphenes, a habit he did when he was nervous. Suguru notices.

"Are you nervous?" Suguru asks tenderly.

"Really nervous. She's prettier in real life. I don't know what to do with myself." he admits quietly.

"Yeah, she is, haha. Oh, there she's coming back now — や!"

"や!" you returned, giggling.

That was Suguru's 'thing'. It's cuter in real life, seeing how his eyes curve up into a smile when he says it. There are details on his face that you didn't notice through the screen; he has an attractive trio of moles on his lower cheek, and when he smiles the left side of his lips curls up more to reveal some of his upper gum.

Satoru's heart beats a little harder when you sit closer to him. He's thinking;

Yay, 彼女は私の隣に座っています。 She is sitting next to me.

"Suguru, ask her if we're taller than she expected." Satoru asks suddenly. You just hear his voice next to you and it gives you tingles — there was a quality to his voice that only revealed itself in real life. An endearing voice crack accompanies the middle of his sentence.

"Satoru asks if we're taller than you expected." Suguru asks you, habitually resting his chin on the palm of his hand while taking a long sip on his iced tea.

"Yeah! Actually, I was surprised, because I thought you and Satoru were the same height, but Satoru is very slightly taller... " you say.

Satoru is listening curiously, waiting expectantly for Suguru's translation. And then it comes, and Satoru smirks at you.

"Yes." he nods, "(Suguru, how do I say I'm taller?) — I'm taller."

You let out a short and sweet ha-hah that makes even Suguru's heart feel a little something.

Each time you laugh, Satoru's thinking;

私はあなたの笑いが本当に大好きです。 。 。 I really love your laugh.

You three leave the airport for your hotel, so you can check in. It's almost midnight, your plane landed late. Though he thought he'd be tired, considering he's not a night owl like his best friend, Satoru is energetically striding next to you, teasing you and laughing with you and throwing hand gestures to try and communicate better. Suguru's fondly eyeing the two of you out, admiring how your chemistry comes to life so beautifully — this is what his best friend wished about for so long; to be at your side. Now he's getting to truly enjoy your company. The dreamy-eyed exchanges between you and Satoru make Suguru think that the two of you ought to be in a novel one day, with how pure and wholesome your story is unfolding right now.

Though, he can pick up on Satoru's frustrated stuttering when he fails to communicate with you. Suguru doesn't mind being the translator, nor does he mind bridging the gap between the two of you; Satoru's nagging can never bother him.

They help you out when you're checking into reception at the hotel, but then suddenly...

"... oh, that's not good. He said your reservation got cancelled." Suguru tells you.

"What!" you panic, "Why?"

Suguru inquires further for you, and finds out that it's because of overbooking.

So you groan, the three of you walking out of the hotel lobby, standing in the glow of the light coming through its glass doors. Satoru silently offers to take care of your suitcase, attentively noticing how tired you'd become from pulling it around.

"Thank you..." you tell him.

"Mm." he nods.

Suguru is quick to offer that you stay at their apartment. "... if you're comfortable with it. Just for the night, until you can find another booking elsewhere. Or if you want to stay by us for the whole month, that's okay too — just mind the cat."

"Suguru... thank you. I'm sorry to be intrusive."

"You're not being intrusive, don't worry. And anyways, I think Satoru will be excited to know that you're staying with us. He was bummed out when he learned that you were gonna stay at this hotel, since it's a bit far from our apartment."

Satoru looks at the two of you curiously after he hears his name mentioned.

"She's staying with us." Suguru tells him. You quietly appreciate his voice, and how soft it becomes when he speaks to Satoru.

"Yay!" Satoru says with a very cute thumbs up. You can hardly believe that this man is older than you.

"Tell him he's cute." you request to Suguru.

"Tell him yourself." he teases.

"No! That's embarrassing! Ah, never mind."

Satoru already knows what you said, though, his ears picked up on that he's cute and your words repeat in his head like his favorite song while the three of you walk the streets at night. He feels dreamy.

There is something indescribably welcoming about Japan that you realize while heading across the street, looking at the faces passing by. It's clean. The lights glow warm and bright. The buildings stand tall, but not intimidatingly so. When you pass by chattering people, you wish you knew what was being said.

The three of you have to take the train to get to their apartment. While boarding it, a cute little exchange happens between you and Satoru that you can't quite explain, but it makes the two of you laugh shyly and look away.

Now squished into a seat at the very edge, another cute little exchange happens between you and him. Satoru is talking up at Suguru, who opted for holding onto the train handles after giving up his seat for an older woman.

Satoru uses lots of hand gestures even when speaking Japanese, his big hands fly around, dramatizing whatever he's saying — and then he accidentally flattens his palm right on top of the back of your hand.

Satoru's quick to remove his hand and giggle it off, but Suguru is even quicker to let out a teasing "ooh, cute" when it happens, so the two of you get completely flustered.

Satoru's heart thumps and throbs for the whole train ride. You swear you can feel a tension between your hands as they rest palms-flat on the seats, less than an inch away; you can feel his warmth, and he can feel yours.

But then the train ride is over, and before you know it Suguru's thumbing his key into the lock of the apartment door. It rattles, the door opens, and the automatic light comes on in the genkan.

"Just a sec — gonna see where Mint is. Make yourself at home." Suguru tells you quickly, voice shaking as he shimmies out of his shoes, and then he disappears down the hall to find the mentioned cat.

Satoru hears the name 'Mint' and gets the idea of what Suguru said based on that.

He nimbly unlaces his Converse, and leans down to neatly tuck them into the corner of the genkan, purposefully next to your shoes.

Then he straightens his body out, and you two have a small comedic exchange as you both notice the height difference between you and him.

"Uh..." he looks down at you. "Water?" he asks after thinking for a moment.

Your heart lurches at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, please."

"Mhm." he hums self-consciously.

He wonders if his accent sounds weird to you. Suguru's reassured him plenty times in the past that it sounds cute and oddly British, but he doesn't really believe that.

Satoru leads the way into the kitchen, clicking the lights on as he goes. And you follow. Such a simple moment makes him feel fluttery.

And then you drink some water with him in the tiny, cramped kitchen that's much too small to accommodate two people. You wonder how Suguru and Satoru can stand in it at the same time if even you and Satoru can't manage it without bumping elbows. He chuckles apologetically.

Ah, the kitchen scene. What a movie scene it is between the two of you.

"Uhhh..." he seems to be skimming his mind for any piece of English vocabulary, getting nervous as you blink at him, waiting for him to speak.

He holds up one finger, then pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He's a very simple, yet stylish dresser; jeans and a white shirt that's much too big for him. He is truly so opposite to his best friend's fashion that it makes you smile to yourself. Suguru's quite showy with his style, and you can tell he puts a lot of effort into his hairbun, too. But Satoru? Messy hair, in fact so messy that it looks like bed hair even though he did especially brush it and style it for you.

"Okay..." Satoru mumbles, typing things into his phone. Then he gives it to you, and you look at the screen.

飛行は乱気流でしたか？ Was the flight turbulent?

You type your response. He watches you. And oh how he watches you — he looks lovestruck. His eyes are full of wonder. His mind reads like poetry.

He reads your reply when you hand him back his phone.

It was. I realized that I hate airplanes. そうでした。私は飛行機が嫌いだということに気づきました。

He nods. "Scary."

"Yeah." you nod too.

Satoru hesitates.

He's still bitter that Suguru got a hug and he didn't; it's on his mind. He just wants to ask you, but a deep-rooted shyness holds him back.

That is, until you look up at him.

あなたは私を見上げようとしてとても頑張っています。かわいい。 You're trying so hard to look up at me. Cute.

His whole body buzzes with the desire to hug you. He's had dreams of meeting you in person, of hugging you, of kissing you.

The two of you feel your bodies naturally pull together, as if subconsciously desiring to embrace, so it just happens. It just happens.

And you hug and he thinks to himself;

これは私が今まで経験した中で最高の瞬間です。 This is the best moment I've ever experienced.

You can feel his heartbeat and he can feel yours. For a moment, the world around you becomes a dream; and you and Satoru are the only things that truly exist. Everything in the world except your love seems fake, unreal.

You hear him swallow like he's choking up. Then he sniffles a bit.

泣かないで。泣かないで。 Don't cry. Don't cry.

くそー、泣いちゃうよ。彼女はとても柔らかいです Damn, I'm gonna cry. She's so soft.

And you break away to laugh sympathetically, he feels a bit embarrassed.

He's crying so softly that it makes your heart lurch.

Your bodies aren't separate for long, because he dives right back in for another hug in an attempt to quench the thirst from deep within his desirous soul. This time he squeezes tighter; you can feel the tones of his torso and the firmness of his bicep muscles as they press against your sides.

He sniffles again, the sound makes your heart lurch again.

あなたに言いたいことがたくさんあるのですが、どうやって伝えればいいのか分かりません。 There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know how.

でも、このハグで私の感情を感じていただければ幸いです。 But, I hope you can feel my emotions in this hug.

And you can; that's how closely connected the two of you feel in that moment. You can feel the emotions radiating from him, permeating throughout the air and seeping into your skin.

You can feel that he likes you. And he can feel that you like him back. It's fascinating to you, because before him you've always been saying I love you and I like you and will you date me? to people, or been on the receiving end of those phrases. But those words are unnecessary for you and Satoru. In fact, they're futile.

If he would say I love you, it would just be an accessory to his already evident love.

Then a sudden embarrassment pries the two of you apart, and you both start giggling to cope with it.

"Sorry... a bit much?" he mutters, half-sure of what he's saying.

"No, not enough." you tell him. He kinda understands what you meant, and feels fluttery. His nose is reddened from crying. He quickly pats his tears off with the base of his hand.

It's like your bodies hate being apart now, you and him can tell by each other's body language. Now at least that's one language both of you became fluent in, despite only being in each other's company for a few hours.

He looks at you. And you flick your brows up and make a funny face, as if to ask him what he's looking at. And he looks away with a bashful laugh, as if to apologize.

The romantic tension is so thick in the air between you two that when Suguru comes back, he feels it hit him like a wave.

おお。さっきまで彼女と一緒にいたとき、世界の存在を忘れていた。 Oh. When I was with her just a moment ago, I forgot the existence of the world.

"That cat is a menace. A menace." Suguru complains.

"What happened?" you ask.

" 'Got scratched." he holds up his hand, showing off the Hello Kitty adhesive across his knuckles. "Anyways, It's late. Are you tired? Satoru's gonna sleep with me, and you can have his room. Unless you want my room. I dunno. You can choose."

"Ooh... I haven't seen your room now that I think about it, except for that one video of you two pillow fighting."

Satoru's already starting to feel a small bit of jealousy and frustration, because he has no idea what you two are talking about.

Suguru's quick to notice this, and translates with a quick tongue.

"Tell her my bed's comfier than yours." Satoru says smirkingly.

"Wow, rude — Satoru says my bed is comfier than his." Suguru lies, refraining from laughing at his own mischievousness.

"Ah, I don't care, I'll be grateful for any bed... ah, actually can I use the bathroom to freshen up a bit?"

"Like I said, make yourself at home."

"Thanks..." you smile.

So Suguru leads the way to the bathroom for you, and you lock yourself in there to freshen up for a while. You sniff your shirt and smile — you smell Satoru's subtle scent on it.

The boys are fussing over the bed situation.

"Don't we have an extra futon stuffed away somewhere, the one Shoko left here?" Satoru thinks out loud.

"Ohhh, you're right." Suguru nods, looking for it.

"Anyways you embarrassed me!" Satoru pouts.

"Haha, did I?" Suguru pulls out the futon from the tippy-top shelf.

"Yeah, earlier you showed off how good you can speak English." Satoru grumbles.

They're softly grunting as they ruffle blankets and pillows.

"Oh, I guess I did. Sorry." he admits, "gosh, maybe if you would have learned a little something in preparation for her visiting then — "

"I did learn stuff! I learned... how to write." Satoru interrupts defensively.

"But why didn't you learn some common phrases?"

"I don't like my accent when I speak, alright." Satoru admits, huffing as he dives into the bed, ruining the artful neatness that Suguru just put so much effort into creating

"Okay, fair enough — oh my god, why would you do that, are you twelve? Oh hey, Y/n." Suguru smiles. "Satoru ruined your bed."

"Oh — two futons? Am I sharing with you or Satoru?"

Satoru rears his head at you from the pillow, looking very cat-like right then with his fluffy white hair. You can tell he's struggling to stay awake as the hour pushes onto two in the morning. He hasn't stayed up this late since he had a video game addiction and played all night with Suguru. Keeping his eyes open was a grand feat.

"No, you get to have two futons." Suguru teases, "Princess treatment."

"Haha, shut up. Be serious."

"Well, you can share with whoever you want or Satoru and I can sleep here together. Whatever you're more comfortable with."

"Didn't you once complain that you hate sharing beds with people?" you giggle.

"Mmm, yeah, but I don't mind if it's with you. Satoru's a cuddler. He also kicks in his sleep."

"That's so cute — well, let's ask — ... hey, I think Satoru fell asleep. Satoru?"

And surely enough, Satoru is asleep; he fell asleep to the sound of your voice without meaning to.

"He's not used to staying awake this late." Suguru tells you, softening his voice so he doesn't wake the cat Satoru.

"That's so sweet. He's really so sweet." you tilt your head admiringly.

You and Suguru are just alone there together, gushing over how cute Satoru looks when he has his cheek squishing into a pillow and his lips pouty and puffy in that sleep-like manner.

A long, nice silence settles in the room. You admit to Suguru that you're feeling a bit too wired to sleep just yet.

"I can stay up with you."

"No, it's okay. You look tired, you should sleep."

"I just always look tired. The night is early, anyways. I usually brood until four in the morning, you know me."

You smile at him, and he has to look away before he swoons. There's a small tension between the two of you, but the both of you force yourselves to ignore it.

The two of you assume a comfortable position on the futons, chatting as if you're not emotional about the fact there's no screen separating the two of you.

"Satoru's never been an insomniac, but in the week leading up to your arrival, he couldn't sleep at all. We'd stand in the kitchen together at midnight, talking about all the things we planned to do when you got here. I've never seen him so excited in a long time... it's really heartwarming to see."

"Really?" you blink at Suguru. He side-eyes you for a prolonged moment, then looks at Satoru who continues to sleep indisturbedly.

"Yeah. You know, he's such an idiot, actually. Because I told him to learn some phrases and instead he learned how to write English."

"That's a start! I mean, look at me, I can barely say a damn thing..." you mutter with lighthearted shame.

"Maybe that doesn't matter at all... I mean, with the kind of chemistry you and Satoru share, there's not much need for words." Suguru says.

You feel your face warm up a bit when he says that. "What do you mean?"

He wiggles his brows. "Oh come on, you know what I mean. I could feeeeel the tension in the kitchen earlier."

"Huh!"

He smirks and begins to tease, "I've never seen two people flirt so much and yet use no words."

You chuckle shyly. "Really...?" you look fondly at Satoru, who's become more curled up by now, face half-hidden under the blanket.

There's a long silence. You're looking at Satoru. Suguru's looking at you as if spellbound. And then he snaps out of it, and reanimates himself.

"Anyways... we should probably get some good sleep if we wanna drag you around on a tour tomorrow. I want your first impression of my home to be how good the food tastes here."

"Ooh, a food tour around Tokyo? Sounds nice. Won't it be too hot tomorrow, though?"

"It'll be fine." he says surely, "Anyways, are you sure you'll sleep here with Satoru? Like I said, he's a cuddler. He will cuddle you in your sleep."

"It's okay. I don't mind." You giggle.

"M'kay, goodnight then."

"Mhm, see you tomorrow." you say, standing with Suguru.

"Wow." he suddenly exclaims when he looks at you.

"Hm?"

Suguru stops on his way out the door, he seems taken aback. "I can't believe you're actually right here. I'm so used to pressing a red button and you vanishing from my screen." he laughs in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm still a bit in disbelief, too. I feel like I'm in a dream and not standing right in front of you."

Suguru smirks. "Mm... well."

He leans down to hug you, pressing your smaller body against his chest with a lovingness that you never envisioned he would possess.

"Have you ever tried to hug someone in a dream? It's pretty difficult." he jokes.

"N-no, haha." you chuckle nervously against his neck. He feels your laughter on his skin, and pulls away before he lets that tingly feeling spread across his chest.

"Goodnight." he murmurs.

"Goodnight." you mumble back.

You're glad when he disappears into his own room, because you felt like you were melting in his alluring presence. A boy as sultry as that requires you to take a breather.

Satoru draws your attention by letting out a sigh in his sleep. You head into the bed.

Though there's a distance between you two, somehow it closes, and Satoru rolls right over onto your futon.

Oh, he is indeed a cuddler, you think. You feel a warm arm suddenly hugging your waist as Satoru changes position, and you hear sleepy lip smacks; his face is very close. You can feel his sweet, warm breath on your face.

There's a comforting, human intimacy about sharing a bed with him. He's so gentle when he sleeps. His hair falls over his eyes, his lashes shudder as his eyes do that sleepy twitching thing.

He looks angelic.

You wonder what dreams he's having. And well, actually he's having dreams of kissing you. How coincidental that you were staring blinkingly at his pouty lips, wondering just how long it will take for the both of you to just — just kiss.

Roaming his features in the dark, you find aspects of his beauty that you never saw before through the screen. He's got a tiny scar above his eyebrow, that must be the one Suguru told you about — the one he got as a child when he fell out of a tree. You remember making a joke "but I thought cats always land on their feet?" and when Suguru translated that, Satoru laughed.

There's slight freckling under his eyes, and slight indents of eyebags stemming from the inner corner of his eye.

And yes, how could you not admire those lashes. They were more beautiful in person. You could count each one if you wanted to, that's how closely he slept to you.

Listening to his soft breaths nearly lulls you to sleep, but then he suddenly cuddles closer and whines in his dream.

Oh, that's close close, you think.

His torso is pressing completely against your side, his body melting into yours like it was made for you. Two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.

His leg comes over yours, and his muscular thigh nestles between your two thighs. It makes you aware of just how attractively long his legs are.

He completely entrapped you with his sleepy embrace.

The warmth of his gentle breathing tickles your cheek, and the tip of his nose slightly dents into your skin. Now that's when you fall asleep. When he's completely melted against you, snuggled up like a cat.

He stirs awake after a few hours of heavy sleep, and for a split second in that groggy wakeful mind fog, for some reason he thinks he's laying next to his wife. So he squeezes you tenderly and cuddles more affectionately.

Oops, he thinks, and pulls away a little out of embarrassment. But once he falls back into dream land, his body subconsciously goes right back in for those sleepy cuddles.

Now the morning dawns over, and you wake up to two bleary, blinking blue eyes right up close to your face...

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[oracle-of-dream]

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...

Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink

Wordcount: 2k

Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.

You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.

While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.

A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."

You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.

Fuck.

You're late.

"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.

Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."

You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."

Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.

He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.

"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.

His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."

You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.

Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.

You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"

He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."

You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"

He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."

You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.

"You're lucky, you know that?"

"I am. Because I get to work with you."

"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."

Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.

You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.

"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."

You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."

"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."

You nodded, "And?"

"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."

You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."

Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.

"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.

"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.

You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.

He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.

"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.

"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.

Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.

"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.

"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."

"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"

You nodded, "Just for you."

"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.

You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.

"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.

"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.

"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."

Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.

"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.

Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.

"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.

"You want more?"

You shook your head, begging.

"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.

"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.

"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.

"More, please."

"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.

It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.

Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.

"P-Please," You begged.

"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.

You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.

Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."

You groaned, "Let's sleep."

"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.

"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."

Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."

"Like hell–You want to bathe me."

"So you'd rather lay like this?"

"If it means I don't lose money."

"Money? What about my feelings?"

"Your feelings don't pay."

"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.

"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.

Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.

"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.

After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"

You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."

"Then, will you be my plus one?"

"Like walk the red carpet?"

"Maybe."

You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."

"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.

[lovetei]

I'm Tei, the owner of LoveTei

I just like writing as a past time hobby and to relieve stress.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!!

For further elaboration I'm like "Oh shit... That seems like something this character would do." and I'll open this app, write it then post it.

And this page is 18+

That's all, thanks!

♠️ - Fluff

♥️ - Smut

♦️ - Angst

♣️ - Crack

✴️ - Dark

◾ - Demon Brothers

◽ - Side Characters

♠️ ◾◽- Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call

✴️ ◾◽ - What are the most toxic thing they will do in a relationship just to make you stay with them?

♠️ ◾◽- The characters comforting you after you experienced an extremely frustrating day

♥️◾◽- Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them

✴️♥️◾◽ - Are you the Ex because you're MC or are you MC because you're the Ex?

♦️♠️◾- Mammon consulting MC after he tried to do the did with her but she refused and he went to ask Asmo and he found out MC is actually insecure

♥️◽- Mephistopheles as your everything because he's my everything

♣️ ◾◽- As bad students

♠️ ◾◽ - Comforting a MC that broke down in the group chat and what are specific things they'll do to comfort you

♠️◾◽ - Their reaction when they found out their MC can sing

♠️♦️◾◽ - Them sending you a letter after you had a fight

♠️♣️◾◽ - MC playing filp the bottle except if they landed it, they go make out with Solomon

♠️◾◽ - Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program

♠️♣️◾◽ - MC taking the brothers in Disneyland and everything is already paid

♥️✴️◾◽ - MC and their boy toys or the characters with a toxic MC

♥️◾◽ - Sheep!MC turned back into their human form meaning they have their human throat again

♠️◾◽ - MC who thinks Cerberus is just a giant puppy that derives love cause he's a good boy

✴️♦️◾◽- The characters meeting you in their own wedding, and the bride was not you

♠️♣️◾◽- Their reaction to finding out MC is Solomon's spouse and they find his cooking edible

♥️◾◽- MC was affected by this mysterious potion that makes them crave for some back-breaking fuck

♠️♦️◾◽- Soulmate-reincarnation universe in where they've lost you and won't let it happen again

🌑 - Heartslabyul 🌕 - Pomefiore

🌒 - Savanaclaw 🌖 - Ignihyde

🌓 - Octavinelle 🌗 - Draconia

🌔 - Scarabia

♠️♣️🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗 - Everywhere I go I keep his picture in my wallet like: Take a look at my boyfriend

OBEY ME: Royal Universe

Scenarios: Introduction

PART 02: How did you turn them from hostile wolves to meek lambs of hell?

OBEY ME: Idol Universe

Scenarios: Introduction

PART 02: If you had been there, if you had seen it! I bet ya, you would have done the same!

TWISTED WONDERLAND: Purge Universe

Scenarios: Introduction

OBEY ME: Swapped Universe

Scenarios: Introduction

OBEY ME: Lillian Universe

Scenarios: Introduction

🕛 - Lucifer 🕞 - Diavolo

🕧 - Mammon 🕓 - Barbatos

🕐 - Leviathan 🕟 - Simeon

🕜 - Satan 🕔 - Solomon

🕑 - Asmodeus 🕠 - Mephistopheles

🕝 - Beelzebub 🕕 - Raphael

🕒 - Belphegor 🕡 - Thirteen

OBEY ME

What type of bottom are they?

🕛-🕧-🕐-🕜-🕑-🕝-🕒-🕞-🕓-🕟-🕔-🕠-🕕-🕡

"Baby, can't you see? I got everything you need." Only a genius can love a human like me!

🕛, 🕜, 🕔, 🕟, 🕞

TWISTED WONDERLAND

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

🕛🕧🕐🕜🕑🕝🕒🕞🕓🕟🕔🕠🕕🕡🕖🕢🕗🕣🕘🕤

"Baby, can't you see? I got everything you need." Only a genius can love a human like me!

🔲 - Obey me

🔳 - Twisted wonderland

PART TWO

🔲 - [Crack] Side characters as bad students

🔲 - [Fluff] Comforting a MC that broke down in the group chat and what are specific things they’ll do to comfort you

🔲 - [Fluff] Their reaction when they found out MC can sing

🔲 - [Fluff-Angst] Them sending you a letter after you had a fight

🔲 - [Angst-Dark] Their reaction to Sheep!MC changing into their human human form at the end of the exchange program

🔲 - [Fluff-Crack] MC taking the side characters in Disneyland and everything is already paid

🔲 - [Smut] MC and their boy toys or the side characters with a toxic MC

🔲 - [Smut]Sheep!MC turned back into their human form meaning they have their human throat again

🔲 - [Fluff] MC who thinks Cerberus is just a giant puppy that deserves love because he’s a good boy

🔲 - [Crack] The characters finding out MC is Solomon’s spouse

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE

🔲 - Royal Universe 03

🔲 - Swapped universe 02

🔳 - Purge Universe 02

🔲 - Lilian Universe 02

REQUESTS

🔲 - [Fluff-Suggestive] Female MC putting her hair up in a bun

🔲 - [Fluff-Suggestive] MC who has a huge crush on Mephistopheles

🔲 - [Fluff] MC who cooks like a michelin star chef

🔲 - [Angst-Fluff] MC finding a box with their lost things in it and got emotional

🔲 - [Angst] MC whose family died and came back looking like a mess

DRAFTS

🔲 - [Smut] MC getting spanked as a punishment for turning them on so much

🔲 - [Angst-Fluff] MC comforting an insecure Mammon

🔲 - [Crack] Mortician!MC whose aesthetic is black turtlenecks and standing under the rain

⚫ - My asks are always open

⚫ - I might not write requests that includes disabilities or illnesses, not because I'm against them or anything but because I'm not knowledgeable enough and might offend people who's experiencing them...

⚫ - When asking for an alternate universe, I'll first write an introduction and you can ask again what you want to see in that universe like "How would Royal AU react to this scenario?"

⚫ - I'm open for requests

⚫ - #🖤 tei talks is my tag when answering non-requesting asks you can block it if you want

[fanauthorworkshop]

Applications now open!

The Fall 2024 Fanauthor Workshop is a 7-week writing course led by Betts (@bettsfic). The workshop lends a supportive space to writers who identify as fans to receive constructive feedback on fanfiction, original fiction, or creative nonfiction.

Art by @emimayooo 💖

Where & When

We meet weekly over Zoom. You can apply for one of two sessions:

Group A: Wednesdays from Oct. 9 - Nov. 20, 12-2pm EST

Group B: Mondays from Oct. 7 - Nov. 18, 6-8pm EST

What

FAW is a feedback-oriented workshop with the occasional generative session. This means that each week we read 2 pieces submitted by participants, offer written feedback, and discuss them over Zoom. You'll be able to sign up for the week you would like to workshop your own piece, which can be anything under 6k words.

There may be weeks where, in lieu of workshopping, I present external readings and writing exercises. These sessions will be dependent on the number of participants. For example, if we have 10 participants and 6 workshop weeks, that means one week will be devoted to a reading discussion and generative activity.

I developed a workshop model that focuses mostly on affirmations and positivity, as well as descriptive over prescriptive feedback, which is to say, describing one's experience of reading rather than prescribing solutions to perceived problems. We also present improvement-oriented feedback, but avoid negativity, judgment, and pedantry. Week 1 is spent going over the model and how to give feedback.

About FAW

The first FAW was held in 2017 as an independent study in my MFA. I restarted it in 2022 and since then have led 9 sessions with a total of over 50 participants, about half of whom have participated in the workshop more than once.

Participation in the workshop includes entrance into the FAW community, an active Discord server where we host:

Ongoing accountability meetings, where we chat over Zoom about our projects and set goals for ourselves every other week

A monthly longform writing workshop, where writers can workshop any story between 6k and 100k words

A short story club, where we read and chat about original short form works

Events and activities like movie nights and co-op gaming

Scheduled write-ins and impromptu writing sprints

We also chat about writing and craft, offer resources, and share many, many pet photos.

In addition, participants of the workshop receive:

A one-hour consultation with me to go over your workshop feedback, come up with a plan for revision and/or publication, or anything else you’d like to discuss regarding your writing

Open enrollment in future workshops

Priority sign-ups for WTFS (Write the Fucking Story), WIP Cleanout, and other one-off generative sessions

Eligibility

Anyone over the age of 18 who considers themselves a participant of fandom and who is familiar with fanfiction may apply. A stable internet connection is also required.

Cost

The cost of the workshop is "pay what you can" with the recommended amount of $300. To be as inclusive as possible, I don't want money to be a deterrent for anyone interested in participating.

Payment (or notification of nonpayment) will be requested prior to the start of workshop via PayPal, Venmo, or Wise. You can also pay in installments.

Application requirements

To apply, you will need:

An informal cover letter discussing your fan history and goals as a (fan)writer (more specific instructions on submittable)

A short sample of your writing, either original work or fanfiction. This may be previously published/posted

You can apply via submittable. Applications close September 15.

FAQ under the cut

FAQ

Are there any content restrictions to what I can workshop?

The only restriction is word count (max 6k), with the following caveats:

If you workshop a piece in a form other than prose (for example, a script), your peers may not be able to offer constructive feedback on that aspect of the work. Participants are asked only to have a familiarity with prose.

Content warnings are required for each piece (if applicable), and participants who are uncomfortable reading certain subject matter may abstain from your workshop.

What is the time commitment of the workshop?

As a participant of the workshop, you'll be asked to:

Workshop any piece of your own prose up to 6k words, which will need to be uploaded to the group folder one week before your workshop.

Read 2 pieces per week, write out your individual crit, and attend the workshop itself.

What is the timeline of the workshop?

In week 1, we go over the syllabus and do a writing exercise. Weeks 2 through 7 will be a workshop, a discussion of an external reading, or a writing activity. Prior to the start of workshop, you'll be able to sign up for the week you would like to workshop your piece.

Structure of the sessions:

Question of the day

First workshop

Short break

Second workshop

We'll go over my workshop model and the syllabus in week 1.

Do I have to participate in the Zoom meetings (camera and mic on)?

Attending the workshop itself is required, and everyone is asked to offer at least one note of positive feedback on each piece, so mics are necessary. Cameras are preferred but not required.

You can't asynchronously participate, i.e. read the pieces and offer written feedback without attending the sessions.

Can workshop participants submit to OFIC Magazine?

Yes! Part of the reason I run the workshop is to inspire and promote the original work of fanwriters. You can follow us on tumblr @oficmag.

Who is running the workshop?

@bettsfic! In short, I lived a dreary cubicle life as a banker until I found fanfiction at 24. I loved it so much that I quit my job to get an MFA in creative writing. I loved the MFA so much that I became a writing teacher. I have some publications, awards, an agent, and 2 million words of fic on ao3. I don't have a book out yet but I'm getting there.

Currently I'm a writing coach and freelance editor. I also have a lowkey writing-related newsletter. And I've been answering writing advice asks on my blog for 10 years.

If you want an idea of the kind of writing activities I create, last summer I worked with @books on a workshop series which includes craft essays and some fun prompts.

If you're interested in my original work, my short story "Not If, When" is a good representation of my writing. For something darker, check out "Shut Up and Kill Me."

What is the workshop like?

Check out G's experience of attending the workshop. And here's some feedback from previous participants.

One final note: I'm working on updating the copy about the workshop on my website and move it over to OFIC's website. This post and Submittable has the most updated information on the workshop. If you have questions about discrepancies (or anything at all), you can shoot me an ask, DM me, or add me on Discord (I'm bettsfic there too). Or you can email me at ekweeks@gmail.com.

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

 The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding. 

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached]  ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks.  you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now! 

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you. 

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

 When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life. 

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends. 

But you knew. 

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up. 

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment. 

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice. 

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.” 

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him. 

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again. 

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes. 

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

 “Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite. 

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin. 

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time.  You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!” 

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one. 

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply. 

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile. 

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire. 

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak. 

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge. 

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat. 

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

[lumosinlove]

On The Line

Part Four

ONE YEAR LATER

Logan went through his usual routine—well, his new usual routine as he was preparing for a tournament. The U.S. Open was quickly approaching, but he still had time. Weeks. Even after two years his life still felt new. What had once been yanking himself out of bed for a protein shake and a run was now pushing into Finn’s side while he fried a few eggs and burrowing into the warm crook of his neck.

“Mm,” Finn said around the piece of watermelon he was chewing. He wrapped an arm around Logan’s waist, hand giving his butt three hard taps. With the other, he flipped the sizzling eggs then turned to press his lips to Logan’s forehead. “Do we still have blueberries?”

“Ouais—smoothie?”

“Yeah. Wait, there was mint in the garden, that’ll be good in it. And I bought that yogurt you like.”

Logan tilted his head up and Finn smiled.

“Hi, gorgeous, hi,” he whispered, and then kissed him. “Go get me my mint.”

Logan stepped out into the morning. He nodded to Alice and Pete, whose team helped manage his courts and house while he was away. They hadn’t seemed very surprised when Logan first brought Finn home and Finn had just…never left. They’d seemed happily surprised when Finn consulted them about planting an herb garden.

It was barely eight in the morning and it already felt like it was nearing eighty degrees. It was going to be a hot practice. Logan found the patch labeled mint in Finn’s slanted handwriting and picked a few stems.

The kitchen window opened behind him and Finn shouted out, “chives!”

Logan smiled and reached for those, too. He took his phone out and snapped a photo, sending it off with a little swooping sound. A moment later, a reply arrived under the banner of Leo Knut’s name.

I’m very impressed!!!

:), Logan typed back. what are you up to where are you now

Logan waited for a reply, but none came. He must have been busy and Logan went back into the kitchen to Finn.

Logan wasn’t sure how it had happened, or even exactly when. Sometime after the Wimbledon ball—Finn called it the Wimbledon dance—Leo Knut had slowly but surely become their friend. He ate with them at most meals during tournaments. He came out to dinner with them sometimes, when he wasn’t eating with his team—who seemed nice enough, if not a little strict. Finn always rolled his eyes when Logan said that. We can’t all have a two-for-one boyfriend, Tremblay.

They texted when they were apart in a group chat that had somehow acquired the name Loginn & Leo that made Logan smile every time he saw it. Finn and him went back and forth constantly about books and TV shows. Logan mostly just listened and read through their conversations, but he liked talking to Leo about his cooking the most. He enjoyed hearting the pictures of delicious meals he made. Him and Finn tried to recreate some of them with Leo instructing them over FaceTime, but Logan had a feeling it would never taste the same unless it was made by Leo’s hand.

Tennis was carefully avoided. Maybe out of respect, or out of balance, Logan didn’t know. But he was almost glad. It kept Leo as a friend. It kept their minds off the court when they didn’t need to be there.

They ate their breakfast on the back porch that overlooked the pool and Logan had half a mind to forget training and lay here all day with Finn. The pool’s surface was still and gleaming in the morning light, the fan above them rotated slowly for a gentle breeze, and Logan had his feet in Finn’s lap. Finn was idly rubbing Logan’s ankle with one hand and eating with the other. Logan knew he’d be a mess of sweat and sore muscles later, so he pushed his toes into Finn’s thigh for more attention.

Finn pushed against a particularly sore spot in Logan’s arch and grinned at Logan’s noise. “Gonna run you so hard today, get ready.”

Logan popped his last bite of toast into his mouth. “Can you please not say it like that?”

“What?”

“It sounds like I’m going to do other things than run, and I know that I’m not.”

“Hm,” Finn took a sip of his iced coffee, obviously hiding a smile. “Maybe you better work really hard, then.”

Three hours later, Logan was flat on his back on the clay of his personal court. He closed his eyes, chest heaving, and enjoyed the dusty-scratch feeling of the clay on his skin.

A shadow fell over him. Finn had been inside the house, taking some calls while Logan did sprints. When Logan opened his eyes, Finn looked the picture of cool and unruffled. He held out a water bottle, and when Logan took a sip, he was pleased to find the water ice cold and slightly lemony.

“I think I found someone for you to hit with,” Finn said. “He’s hoping to get in some good time on the clay and, oh look,” Finn spread his hands. “Clay, right here in the USA.”

Logan opened his eyes again questioningly. “What?”

“I found someone for you to hit with.”

Logan propped himself up on an elbow, confused. “I hit with you.”

“I know, I know. What, you don’t even want to know who?”

Logan took another sip of water, swishing it around in his mouth. “Who?”

“Leo.”

Logan smiled, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Leo’s here?”

“Ooh-way.”

“He didn’t say.”

“You spoke to him?”

“I sent him garden pictures and asked but he didn’t respond.”

“Maybe because he was flying.”

“Leo doesn’t have to be flying not to answer my messages.”

“No, I’m saying I have his flight number, he was flying.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “You tracked his flight?”

Finn shrugged. “I like to know where people are. I used to track your flights all the time. Before I was on all of them.”

Something about that made Finn’s words begin to set in. Playing Leo was one thing. Being his friend on tour, texting, FaceTiming, trying to learn to cook from him. But training with him…

“Well…Là.” Logan shook his head. “He’d get to know me too well. My game. He’s so good, it’s—”

“You’d get to know his, too,” Finn said. “And he’s gonna be around for a while. The rest of your career, certainly. He’s too good not to be.”

Logan hesitated. He picked up his hat from where it had been knocked to the ground and pressed it between his hands.

“We avoid tennis,” Logan said. “I don’t…I don’t want it to come between us.”

Finn sighed and knelt down on his good knee, right between where Logan’s were splayed. “Look, Lo. Bottom line, I can’t run you around like you need. My knee won’t have it. And I don’t need someone to just lob balls at you. I don’t need you to whip some half-ass hitter’s butt. We need someone who will push your every boundary. Who will put you to the test—especially on clay. It’s your home, it’s where you dominate. It’s where people are the most scared of you and I’m gonna keep it that way. Also, Leo’s a beast on hard court and you could learn a few things.” Logan narrowed his eyes and Finn smiled. “I’m telling you this as a kindness, boyfriend and coach.”

Before he knelt on his bad knee, he’d stretched his hands out on either side of Logan and slowly lay him down on the hot court. Logan smiled as he lay his head back. His entire back through his t-shirt was warm and Finn’s chest felt warmer.

“Is that a yes?” Finn bent to kiss Logan’s neck. He was soaked in sweat but Finn didn’t seem to care.

Finn pulled back to look at him. “He’s coming at noon tomorrow.” He pushed himself up on his hands, straightening his arms and blocking out the sun just enough so that Logan could open his eyes and see his red hair get turned to bronze by the halo of rays. They looked at each other for a moment, until Finn laughed, soft and closed-lips, and couldn’t help himself anymore. He let himself back down and kissed Logan in the sunshine.

“Yes?” Finn asked again, bumping their noses together. “Yes. Yes, yes?”

Logan hooked his arms under Finn’s and hauled him fully down. “What if we can’t turn it off again?”

Finn frowned, but allowed himself to rest against Logan. “What does that mean?”

Logan let his head rest fully in the clay. It would be all in his hair turn the shower tiles rusty later when he scrubbed it out—or when Finn did, hopefully.

“What if…” Logan sighed. “What if once we train together, we’re always competitors and we can’t be friends again?”

“Did you feel any less my friend when you played me?”

God, that was something he hadn’t thought of for a while. Finn, across the court from him. Trying to beat Finn. Well, usually beating Finn. And Finn sticking his tongue out at him when he thought the cameras weren’t looking—the cameras were always looking.

Finn read his mind like that.

“Cause for me, you know what happened to me when I played you?” Finn asked.

“You fell in love with me?”

Finn feigned a gasp. “How did you know?” He grinned as he kissed Logan again. “So, don’t worry about Leo. He’s not petty. He’s not stupid. He’s your friend. He knows what comes with your jobs. And he wants to train with you anyway.” Finn tilted his head. “Some would call that wanting to spend time with your friends, too.”

“It’s hard work.”

“Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

Logan tightened his arms around Finn. “Ouais, well, I’ve been asking you to do that all day.”

“Oh-ho.” Finn’s laugh was delighted and he ducked his face down against Logan’s neck. “Shut up.”

Logan hooked his foot around Finn’s waist and rolled them over until he’d pinned him against the soft clay. His hands left reddish smudges of Finn’s cheeks when he took his face to kiss him again.

“Mm,” Finn mumbled contentedly. He pushed his hands up under Logan’s shirt.

“Allez,” Logan whispered, biting down gently on Finn’s lip. “I want to do what I love.”

“Leo,” Finn said, the name cutting off in a gasp as Logan pressed his hips against him. “Tomorrow. Noon.”

“Yes,” Logan said. He nosed against Finn’s jaw until he got Finn to tilt his head back so he could get at his pale neck. “Yes…”

~

Logan felt restless the next morning. He was out at dawn, running the familiar path near his property, Finn biking beside him. They stopped in a shady spot where a food truck served breakfast sandwiches and iced coffee.

“We should take Leo here,” Finn said around a mouthful. “He’d fucking love this sauce that is burning my mouth off right now.” Finn swallowed and stuck his tongue out, panting. “Ack. It’s delicious just man-oh-man.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You just took out an entire potato because it was covered in it.”

“Fuck off,” Logan said, and slouched further with his back to Finn’s chest.

They rode back and showered. Finn laughed a bit at the fact that Logan never seemed to not have a bit of clay in his hair or behind his ears.

The restlessness didn’t ease up.

As they waited for Leo to text that he had landed, Logan walked laps around the living room couch where Finn was reading. One circle. Two. Three. Four. He paused and came back with a handful of popcorn. Five. Six. Finn looked good reading. Glasses resting on his nose, casting faint speckled shadows among his many freckles. Seven. Eight. Nine. Logan kissed the top of his head before coming back around to look at his face again. Ten. Eleven.

“Lo…” Finn said his name all drawn out without looking away from his pages.

“He really asked to come?” Logan asked. “You didn’t ask him?”

Finn turned a page. “He asked me.”

“You should be careful what strategies you use when he’s here. Who knows what he’ll say to his own—”

“Logan,” Finn laughed. He rubbed at his eyes beneath his lenses before taking his glasses off. “You think I don’t have a plan for that sort of thing?”

Logan paused. He worried a popcorn kernel in his teeth. “I don’t want to have to whisper in front of him.”

“We won’t. You know us. A lot of the time, we don’t need words.” Finn let his book rest against his chest. “Listen to me. Will he learn some things about us? Yes. Will we learn some things about him? Yes. But that’s not the point. The point is you’ll get even better than you are because you won’t be worried about hurting me, and it won’t be easy for you.”

“What if I have to use something new against him in a match?” Logan said. “Something I learn now. Here.” Logan sank into the cushions at Finn’s waist and Finn set his book and glasses on the table so he could grab Logan’s hips and haul him into his lap. Logan put his palm flat on Finn’s chest. “What if he hates me for it later? Even without meaning to.”

“Do you wish I’d told him he couldn’t come?”

“Non,” Logan said. “I just…”

“He’s not going to hate you. “This is the game. It’s the game. And you’re both part of it. He’s not going to hate you.” Finn shook his head, tapping playful fingers against Logan’s cheek. “Get out of your head, pretty little green eyes.”

Logan sighed. “Do you think we have food he likes?”

Finn tisked, but pulled Logan forward to kiss his forehead. “Yes, you sweetheart. God, do I tell you I love you enough?”

“Those chips,” Logan said, sitting up a bit. “Those spicy chips that he packs in his suitcase—”

“Ordered them,” Finn said. “But, Lo, he probably rented a house that he can fill up however he likes.”

“But he’ll be over here. On my courts.”

Logan got a little warm all over, picturing Leo out there. Walking past his pool. Maybe he’d even man the grill that didn’t get nearly enough use. He’d bring his long, lean limbs and sit on this sofa and…

Logan could still feel the touch of his hand on his lower back. We’re just dancing, Logan.

Finn’s phone began to ring from inside his pocket, making Logan jump from his place on his lap. He tried to think what Finn would say and it came easily. “Happy to see me, or something?”

Finn snorted and tapped his hip to tell him to move. “He’s landed.”

~

It was just as good as Logan imagined it would be. Leo had hugged him tightly the second he walked through their door. He’d hugged Finn tightly, too. Logan liked the way Leo had to stoop a little even to hug Finn. He liked the way Finn’s hand were firm on Leo’s back, just like they were on Logan’s after a win or loss. Finn sat Leo down outside on the patio by the pool and Logan trailed after, watching them. Finn offered food and drink, Leo chose a Cola, and Finn brought it to him on ice with a red and white paper straw because he was Finn and this was Leo and Logan didn’t know why it felt so very important that Leo was here but it did. It really did.

“The plane was fine,” Leo was saying. “And the city’s nice, but it’s gorgeous out here, though. You guys got a spot.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Lo picked well. Where did you rent?”

Logan perched on the edge of the chair Leo had chosen. He sort of wanted to look at him while he was distracted by Finn. He already looked sun-golden and relaxed. He had that blue shirt on and his hair was shorter just now. The gray tuft looked like it had gotten sun, too. Logan still hadn’t asked him about that.

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t rent. I got a room at the Lion Hotel.”

“Non, non, non,” Logan said at the same time as Finn made a protesting sound.

“You’ll stay with us, then,” Finn said. “Leo. C’mon.”

Leo hesitated, sipping his drink. “It’s a nice hotel.”

“Non,” Logan said again. “You’ll just have to drive here everyday anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, or…” Leo’s eyes went between the two of them. “Really?”

“What are we supposed to do,” Finn said. “FaceTime you to help us cook dinner while you’re in the same city?” He smiled. “No, really, though. We’d…” He looked at Logan. “We would love to have you here with us.”

“Why didn’t you say you were coming? When I texted you the garden.” Logan realized he had almost started touching Leo’s hair—a habit with Finn—and pressed his palms to his thighs instead.

Leo tilted his head back to smile up at him. “Because you would have told me that we’d get to know each other’s games too well and that we shouldn’t.”

Finn let out a laugh from his chair across from them and crossed his socked feet on the table. “Oh, would he now, Leo? Do you hear that, Lo?”

Leo placed his straw between his teeth as he smiled. “Did I get it right or word for word?”

“Word, for, fucking, word,” Finn said pointedly. “Sprinkle in some worry that we won’t have any food you like.”

“Finn,” Logan hushed, and Leo laughed. He put a hand over Logan’s.

“You’re sweet.” Leo looked at Finn. “You’re both sweet. But yeah, I figured I’d go straight to Finn.”

Finn stuck his tongue out at Logan. “He knows I know I good idea when I see one.”

“Well, you took this one on, didn’t you?” Leo squeezed Logan’s hand before letting go. Logan wished he had turned his palm up into it.

Finn’s brown eyes darted between the two of them. He was biting his lip against a smile and messing with the condensation droplets around his soda. “I did.”

“I guess I’ll have to go get my things sometime tonight,” Leo said.

Finn waved a hand at the setting sun. “Do it tomorrow. We probably have everything you need here.”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “And you have, like, six rooms to choose from.”

“Oh yeah,” Finn said. “Do you want the tour?” He rolled his eyes at himself and put his glass down. “I say like it’s my house.”

“It is your house,” Logan said. “Like, this is your house, I am your house.”

Leo laughed as they went back inside. “Yeah, Finn, he’s your house.”

“You know what I meant.”

Leo swung an arm around Logan. “Do we?”

Logan gave him a shove, but not hard enough to dislodge his arm.

They took him through the house first and Leo put his phone down in the bedroom beside the master, so Logan figured that’s the room he wanted. It was the one Noelle chose whenever she visited. They went to the theater room, the basement that had a lower deck and a pool table. It was a lot of impressive stuff, but Leo seemed to appreciate the kitchen the most.

“Oh.”

Logan tucked his hand into Finn’s as Leo turned around in a slow circle, taking in the large kitchen. Finn squeezed.

“I bet y’all hardly use this beauty,” Leo said, brushing a hand against the stove.

“I’ll have you know I make eggs there every morning,” Finn said.

“Where’s your private chef at?” Leo arched a brow.

“She has the day off,” Logan said.

Finn scoffed. “I was about to tell a joke!”

Logan shrugged. “She does.” He looked at Leo. “But don’t worry she left a lot of prepped things in the fridge, so we’re good for dinner.”

Finn coughed jokingly over the words Leo’s risotto.

Leo smiled at him. “I’m happy to make you that, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Non, we wouldn’t invite you and then put you to work,” Logan said.

“Oh?” Leo walked back towards them, around the kitchen island. “I’m not here to work?”

There Logan went again, cheeks flaming. Finn squeezed his hand harder.

“Do you want to see the courts?” Logan asked hoarsely.

He squeezed Finn’s hand back.

~

A week went by in a flash. It felt like that first week with Finn, when he had grabbed Logan by both hands and yanked him out of the lonesome dark. It felt old as time, and brand new. Logan’s heart pounded, his laughs tumbled, and yet he’d never been calmer. Never more at ease. He’d never trained harder in his life, either. Finn on the sidelines, demanding more, more, more. Leo standing opposite him on clay, on hard court, in sun, in shade, in the night lights, demanding more, more, more. And Logan wanted to give. It filled Logan right up to give it to them.

He’d never felt stronger. He’d never played better. He’d never slept better, Finn cradling him, tightly pressed all along his back. He’d never eaten better, Leo’s delicious handiwork, Finn mixing him a drink, Logan helping him chop and prepare. Card games. Movies. And the laughter. Logan would live and swear by their laughter.

He was standing behind the outdoor bar by the pool and Finn and Leo were in the shallow end with a water set of paddle tennis. Watching them, listening to the tic tac of the light ball…Logan had never wanted to see two people play more. Really play. He’d give anything to match Finn’s grace with Leo’s lighthearted strides on a court in front of an audience. Anything at all.

“Did you just topspin this fucking ball?” Leo laughed. He was wearing sunglasses and his hair was darkened and slicked back by the water. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“I did use to play professionally!” Finn fired back.

“Honey, I had your poster on my wall—I know!”

Logan dropped the ice cubes he was holding and the clattered down to the floor in every direction.

“Oh did you now?”

Logan smiled to himself as he stooped to pick up the ice. He’d told Finn that and Finn knew it. They still smiled about it sometimes after spending a day with Leo in whatever city the three of them were lucky enough to be in.

And that one night. Staring up at a dark ceiling with Finn, just the two of them. Finn had asked what had felt, at the time, like a daring sort of question. Do you think he ever wished he could be with one of us? And, who do you think he liked better? Probably you. You always played better.

Logan had had so many words in his head that he could only get out a few. But he plays more like you.

~

Logan and Finn stared up at their dark bedroom ceiling on the tenth day. The next tournament was fast approaching. U.S. Open. Not far to travel. Hard court. Leo’s surface. But for now it was quiet. Leo in the next room.

This might’ve be Logan’s favorite part of life, actually. Though it was so hard to choose. But this. Finn’s head resting against his chest, nudging into Logan’s fingers through his hair while Finn said anything and everything that came into his mind…This had to be in his top three.

“You’re drop shots are stronger,” Finn mumbled. His fingers were, maybe without him fully realizing it, leaving goosebumps across Logan’s chest and stomach in the trail of his fingertips. “You have more control, it’s really good. It’s like Leo’s.”

“I think so, too,” Logan said.

“You’re the strongest you’ve been.” Finn pressed his palm over Logan’s core. “Here.”

“Leo’s hard to play over and over.”

“It’s beautiful to watch.”

Logan turned his head to run his lips along Finn’s forehead. “I like it when you watch.”

Finn smiled, turning his face into Logan’s chest. “Lo.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you get the sense…” Finn began. “That…Hm.”

“Hm?” Logan reached down and pulled Finn’s thigh further across his hips, smoothing a palm under the hem of his shorts.

“Do you get the sense that Leo…” He was whispering.

Leo, in the next room.

The sense. Logan’s fingers pressed into the muscle of Finn’s thigh, trailing down towards the bend of his knee.

Finn adjusted so he was looking down at Logan. He reached up and brushed a thumb against his eyelashes, then under his eye, then over his full bottom lip.

“You know that I’m yours,” Finn whispered.

Logan gave a small nod.

“And you’re mine.”

“Toujours.”

“If I were to say to you,” Finn whispered. “That I want to watch Leo kiss just…” He bent, aiming for his favorite soft part under Logan’s jaw, the part that spent more time pink from Finn’s teeth than not. “Here…As much as I want to kiss it myself…”

Logan drew in a slow breath, calming himself with the feeling of Finn’s hair slipping through his fingers. “Remember our Wimbledon dance? Leo and I.”

“God. Of course I do.”

“There’s this…feeling.” Logan cleared his throat a little, heat rising through his core. “With you. When you’re…” Logan squeezed his eyes closed and laughed. “Ugh, stop looking at me like that.”

Finn was grinning, eyebrows raised.

“Tell me,” Finn said, then dropped to a whisper again. “Tell me.”

Logan covered his eyes with a hand. “Non, c’est—embarrassed.”

“Hey, hey, c’mere…” Finn whispered, then took one of Logan’s wrists, then the other, and held them above his head. “When I’m what?”

“You know.” Logan’s hands flexed in Finn’s grip and—there it was. Light. The ball on his racket. Finn kissing him in velvet curtains. Finn gripping him in a hug so tight after a win that it took his breath away. Leo’s hand under his jacket. Finn’s gentle fingers massaging his sore ankles after a long day. Finn winning at cards. Leo winning at cards. Their faces when Logan won at cards, so so beautifully competitive, all of them. Finn’s head on his chest and dark ceilings. Leo pushing his head under the water in the pool, then pulling him back up again to breathe and laugh. Leo falling asleep against his shoulder half way through a movie.

“I do.” Finn had been watching him quietly. Brown eyes. Chocolate. Sugared espresso. Sweet. “I do know…”

You know what I’d choose? You. You. You.

“Leo, too,” Logan said. “Dancing…Laughing together these weeks. Leo, too.”

“Look at what this talk got you all like…” Finn whispered as he kissed Logan’s hot cheeks. “Look at you.”

Logan let out a short breath, hands tightening and loosening in air. He felt like he’d burn up if he didn’t get a grip on something, but Finn’s body pinned him.

“Settle down, I got you.” He captured Logan’s next sound in a kiss. “This? You want Leo doing this?”

“Shh,” Logan said, but his eyes slipped closed. He felt heavy. And light. “If he hears you he’ll think we’re—we’re weird or something.”

“Oh baby,” Finn whistled low, giving his head a slow shake. “I think weird will be the last word on his mind.”

“How do you know?” Logan worried.

“How many hours do you think I’ve spent watching the two of you play each other?” Finn kissed his jaw, his ear, his temple. “You think I don’t know how he looks at you?”

“How?” Logan swallowed a desperate sound. “How, how?”

“The way I look at you.” Finn’s mouth dragged along his cheek, back to his. “You think I don’t know how you look at him?”

Logan’s fists clenched in Finn’s hold and Finn let him go so they could tumble onto their sides with Logan’s arms around his waist.

Finn smiled. “It’s how you look at me.”

[miyamiwu]

Last updated: Aug. 8, 09:30pm GMT+8

I first posted about this 2 days ago, but only now did I have the time to sort out how much I exactly need and… it’s a lot

Dorm rent: 1,624 PHP (~29 USD)

Laptop credit bill: 4,000 PHP (~70 USD)

Consultation fee on different psychiatrist: P1,500 (26 USD) 3,000 PHP (~52 USD)

College tuition: 5,000-7,500 PHP (86-130 USD)

Passport: 1,200 PHP (~21 USD)

Total: 13,000-16,000 PHP (225-280 USD) 14,824 - 17,324 PHP (258 - 300 USD)

But the college tuition one is just a rough estimate! Enrollment is still ongoing, so I don’t know yet exactly how much I have to pay for.

If you have any spare cash, please consider helping me out by donating to my Ko-fi:

Or, you can also avail of my alpha reading service on my Ko-fi commissions page. It’s only $5 right now!

Breakdown and explanation of the amounts under the cut

In the post linked above, I mentioned struggling on the June-July dorm payment, but that’s okay now. My mom was able to find a way, but now I have another problem and that’s the August payment and the December deposit. It will be the start of a new semester, and as always, I have to pay for the first month and the last month of the semester upfront. That would be P1,624 (~$29).

I really don’t want to also ask my mom for this, as my youngest sibling just told us in the sibling group chat that she’s been having suicidal thoughts (everyone in this family has mental health issues 😔). And apparently, she also just had an argument with her boyfriend (I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend…)

With that, I will also need P4,000 (~$70), to pay for my laptop’s monthly dues. My mom bought it on credit and she has to pay for it monthly… but seeing as how she’s already depressed over her multitude of debts, I really couldn’t bring myself to burden her with this as well.

Then yesterday, I started my sessions with a new therapist, and she’s telling me to get a second opinion on ADHD.

Remember how a few months back I went to see a psychiatrist? Well, that doctor turned out to be a traumatic experience. She gaslighted me, then denied me having ADHD on the basis of my mom saying that I was a “quiet child who kept to herself.”

Current therapist asked me if I have been considered for ADHD/OCD before, and when I brought up the previous diagnosis, she was unconvinced coz she thinks I may have the inattentive type of ADHD. Now, she’s referring me to a psychiatrist she knows that specializes in my case, but the consultation won’t be free.

Update: I initially thought she’d refer me to someone from the Philippine Mental Health Association (PMHA), where the consultation fee is only P1,500 ($26) since that’s what she mentioned during our session and the PMHA is also on our uni’s list of recommended mental health services. But earlier, she emailed me the three doctors she recommends, and all of them turned out to be from private hospitals/clinics with fees of around P3,000 (~$52) per session… which is twice the amount charged by the PMHA

Next, my college tuition.

I go to a state university, and in my country, tuition should be free for up to 5 years in my course. But due to mental health issues, I’ve had to retake several classes because I could never complete them on time. I also took a leave twice so uhh… I’ve used up my free tuition rights and now have to pay.

I don’t know the exact amount yet, as we are charged by the number of units we are enrolled for… and well, enrollment is still ongoing, and I’m not guaranteed any units as slots are extremely limited. But going from previous receipts, it should be around P25,000 (~S434).

I’m not gonna ask for help on that full amount, though! Because, god, it really is too much. I plan to apply for tuition loan in my uni, and apparently I can get up to 70-80% discount once approved, so after deduction, I’ll only have to pay P5,000-7,500 ($86-130)

Lastly, the passport. I really need to apply for a passport already. I posted about my valid ID woes a while back, but I really can’t find the post again, but long story short, I don’t have a single, valid government ID at the moment, and it’s hindering my access to a lot of services.

I used to have a postal ID, but it expired last year and I can’t renew it because postal ID issuance has been suspended throughout the country for maintenance.

I also applied for a national ID last year, but until now I still haven’t received it. That’s just how fucking inefficient my country is.

The one ID left that’s easy to apply for without a pre-existing valid ID is the passport, so yeah, I really have no choice but to apply for it now. The regular passport fee is 950 PHP, but I listed the price for the expedited one because I need it urgently. That would be P1,200 (~$21).

I need a valid ID to open an account at this one bank that my uni requires for all those aspiring to be student assistants. And in the case my uni scholarship application gets approved, I will also need the account to receive any stipend I may get as they only do it via that bank.

I will also be needing the account to encash stipend cheques I get from a government-funded scholarship (they still haven’t given me my stipend for the previous semester, though). The bank teller has already been lenient with me three times in the past by allowing me to use an expired ID along with my student ID, the latter which they don’t even accept. I really can’t bear to do it again.

Aside these, I will definitely be needing a valid ID and a bank account should I get accepted in any of the jobs I’m applying for… so yeah, I really need the ID 😭

No pressure at all, but if you have a little extra cash, I would be eternally grateful if you donate

USD to PHP conversion is high, so a little goes a long way for me

[humunanunga]

Plurality, endogenesis and sysmedicalism.

Yeah no, I'm not done yet. Please bear with me for a word of caution.

So before making this post in reaction to seeing tulpa "systems" DNI, endo/endo-supporters DNI and non-traumagenic systems/supporters DNI across three fandom tags so far, I asked the systems I know if this was as Transmed But For Systems as it looked to an outsider. That was when I learned endo-exclusionists are called sysmeds.

Now, if you've been on Tumblr in the 2020s, you likely already know what plurality is. If you don't, it refers to an internal experience of living as multiple people who may take turns fronting– and together with whomever would be designated the "host," they are called a system. It used to be widely called split personality or multiple personality disorder, but as it stands currently, I don't think psychiatry yet recognizes a distinction between headmates, such as in plurality, and alters, such as in dissociative identity disorder (DID). The two can coexist, but not everyone with DID is plural, and not every plural has DID.

Which brings us to traumagenesis and endogenesis. Traumagenic systems or headmates, as the term suggests, have been caused by traumatic events, either acute or chronic, as is commonly the case with DID. Endogenesis, on the other hand, is a broad term for other causes. Tulpamancy, the deliberate formation of a headmate, is one example, but traumagenic systems can include endogenic headmates and vice-versa, and endogenic systems or headmates may also be caused by, for just one example, the same neurological processes that cause delusions or hallucinations. Which is to say, they're not making it up or following a trend, but the causes for endogenic plurality are more varied, and thus may simply not yet be as well-researched or as widely understood as another common cause.

So, how do you know whether someone's system is endogenic or traumagenic? Well, what if the systems themselves don't know if they're endo? What if a system who identifies as endo doesn't know they're traumagenic? How far would you be willing to invade someone's privacy to try to tell apart an endogenic system from a traumagenic system?

Before I continue, I myself am not plural, not to my knowledge. What I am is close to multiple plurals, both locally and across group chats. So I consulted them for this post:

And now that we've hopefully cleared up some misconceptions, some presumptions maybe, I'll get to the point.

I have been on Tumblr since early 2012, late 2011. Years before I knew I was trans, I was here through the prevalence of transmedicalism, and the damage exclusionism did, keeping far more trans people in the closet than were protected from radfems, by repeating the same excuses transphobic doctors give to deny resources.

Bigots don't mistreat plurals for why you're plural, they mistreat you for being plural. Whether you've been mistreated for your plurality is not the fault of other plurals.

People of Tumblr, do not do that shit again with sysmedicalism. Do not reenact 2010s Tumblr. You would not be protecting anyone if you did this, you would be acting as someone else other plurals need protection from.

[leonw4nter]

Are they? Are They Not?

Architect!RE2R!Leon x Boss!Reader

Tags - fluff, making out (it's short tho), office romance

“Good morning everyone! Picked up some coffee so we can all start the day right!,” Rebecca cheerfully chirps as she enters the office. She stops by everyone’s desks, placing paper cups of steaming hot coffee with their names before knocking at your door, the company’s COO. “Come in!,” you call out. She enters the organized office, spotting you sitting on your office chair and turning your work computer on. She notices a steaming hot paper cup on your desk, along with a brown pastry bag. “Got you some coffee but turns out you’ve already got a cup in. Oops,” she says with an apologetic grin. “It’s fine. I could use the extra caffeine anyways,” you respond with a polite smile. She leaves the cup on your desk before turning back to the door, walking out the office when she spots Leon come in.

“Mornin’ Leon!” “Good morning, Rebecca!”

Rebecca walks over to her desk and decides to officially start her day, answering emails and editing the current contracts that've been assigned to the company. Soon, the noise of chatter is drowned out by the clickity-clack of keyboards and ringing landlines. The morning can get busy very soon, not that they mind; the company does a swell job of making sure its employees are doing alright and are managing to balance their personal and work lives. People pour in and out of Y/N’s office, hoping to get her opinion or approval on a project before having their ideas sent to the CEO (aka Y/N’s dad). Most of the time, their ideas align perfectly so her approval could be seen as a sign that he’ll approve it too. It’s now break and everyone rises from their seats to stretch and get up to grab a bite.

“I’ll go ask Y/N if she wants to go grab lunch with us,” Leon offers just as Rebecca gets up. Rebecca nods before responding, “Okay. I’ll go join the others already.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s busy consulting with the engineers and said she's sorry and will make it up to everyone with drinks one of these days,” Leon explains before digging into a breakfast bagel. Despite it being lunch time, he prefers to have breakfast foods.

“Did she ask for help? I can help her out since I’ve got a blueprint or two to review then I'm done” Claire offers. Leon shakes his head but says that he thinks she’ll accept Claire’s offer anyway. The group continued chatting over their respective meals until it got to the topic of their coffee consumption.

“My brother is a beast– out here chugging protein shakes and coffee. I’m surprised he isn’t having a heart attack whilst I’m out here palpitating with two cups,” Claire pipes in.

“I don’t know what’s worse: your brother’s caffeine consumption or the sheer amount of sugar and creamer Rebecca puts in her coffee,” Jill jokes, earning a playful smack to the shoulder from Rebecca. “At this point it’s 99% sugar and a measly 1% coffee. How you’re not diabetic is beyond me!”

“Life’s too short to not absolutely go crazy with sugar and creamer, let me have my fun!,” Rebecca retorts and earns good-natured laughter from the table.

“How about you, Leon? How do you like your coffee?,” Claire asks.

“I’m not too picky with coffee. I’ll take anything,” Leon responds.

“Hmm. You’re just like Y/N; I just get her whatever kind of coffee and she always takes it,” Rebecca responds.

“Y/N? Oh she doesn’t like or drink coffee,” Leon corrects. Jill nearly chokes on her muffin when Leon says those words, eyes slightly widened. “Really? She’s the first person I have ever come across that doesn’t like or drink coffee.”

“But she literally accepted all the coffees I got for her!,” Rebecca says. “Wait… what if she just accepted them to look polite or nice–”

“Knowing her, she probably did that to not hurt your feelings or something…,” Jill softly says.

“She could’ve told me she doesn’t drink coffee. I would’ve gotten her a hot cocoa instead,” Rebecca says. “Guys, do I look intimidating? What if she just took the drinks because my outgoing-ness is intimidating her? We do know she usually keeps to herself too–”

“You’re the least intimidating person I know, Rebecca,” Jill responds. “She might’ve done that because she felt kind of bad… or something– I don’t know–”

“And how do you know that, Leon?,” Claire asks with slightly narrowed eyes, leaning into the table while resting her head on her hand.

Now everyone in the table is sitting in silence, curious gazes focused on Leon as to how he knows that. You've never talked about her preferences in food and drink– it’s not even on the company website. They don’t think it’s ever been mentioned anywhere.

“Oh, you know– we talk,” Leon responds with a neutral tone. “Oh my God Leon you almost got yourself killed! Calm down, calm down. They won’t catch on,” Leon thinks to himself.

“Talk? Talk like how?,” Jill asks.

“‘Talk’ as in we’re just coworkers who decided to strike up a random conversation whilst working on a blueprint that one time,” Leon says. He would’ve looked calm and composed– unaffected even, if it wasn’t for the tips of his ears flushing pink and his subconscious leg jiggle. “What?” Leon asks as Rebecca and Claire shoot him smirks that scream “is it what we’re thinking?”. “Can’t a guy and girl talk like they’re just coworkers?”

“You have a point,” Claire replies but Leon doesn’t miss how her blue-green gaze falls on his pinkish ears. They decided to drop the topic, much to Leon’s massive relief. “That was a close one, Leon. Careful next time,” he thinks to himself. Well, you two did more than just talk that day– no, not in that way; you exchanged numbers, began hanging around each other more frequently until you two took secretly took things to another level. Since there was only 15 minutes left before their break was over, they decided to leave early and go up to their office.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Hey baby,” you softly say as you walk over to Leon’s cubicle. The others had already gone, the office dark except for Leon’s spot. He had stayed overtime to finish up a model so he would be free for the weekend.

“Hi,” Leon softly said as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. “Stayed a little later to finish the playground but I don’t regret it one bit if it means some time spent with you.”

“Congrats for making my heart race a million miles per hour,” you giggle. Leon shoots you a flirty wink before he finishes up packing his bag. “Ready to go, milady?”

“Let’s go,” you respond. You two leave the dark office, looking around for anyone lingering. You part your hands from his temporarily, making sure no one catches you holding hands with an employee; it’s not exactly rule-breaking to be fraternizing with an employee but it is highly discouraged. More importantly, it’s not exactly the best of look to be caught in such an act especially when you’re the daughter of the head of this entire company.

“Coast clear?” Leon whispers, to which you nod. Giggling like two school children who just confessed their crushes to each other, you two make your way down the dark hallways hand in hand. Leon kept stealing glances at you, a nerdy but hopelessly in love smile plastered on his face. Despite the lack of lights, you could accurately guess that there’s a glimmer in Leon’s eyes whenever he looked at you like you’re the sun, which you kind of are since you lit up his world.

Not too long after, you two get in your car. After starting the engine, Leon suggested that you two take his car so he could open the door for you and be the one to treat you lavishly, to which you responded with a small nod and an “I’ll think about it”. Leon connected his phone to your car’s bluetooth speakers, going to his Spotify and picking out a playlist he made that reminded him of you. Upon hearing the lyrics of the song, a warmth crawled up your cheeks and manifested in the form of a soft pink glow. Seeing your reaction, Leon beamed brightly as he leaned back in his seat.

“You know it’s your birthday next week,” Leon says, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between you two.

“Yeah, it is. Why, you wanna know what I want for a gift?,” you ask.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Oh then I guess just wear a light pink ribbon on your hair and call yourself a gift. Your presence in my life is the best present ever.”

“God that’s so cheesy,” he says with a small laugh. He keeps his gaze trained on the tall buildings around you two because he knows he’s going to scream like a girl if he looks at you once more. “It’s not a bad suggestion though.”. After a few minutes, you two finally reach Leon’s condominium.

“Good night baby, see you tomorrow,” you say whilst pulling him in for a kiss.

“Night, Y/N. Text me when you get back, okay?,” he says. You nod before he finally waves bye and shuts the door.

You’ll definitely be sending him some texts.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After another entire week of staying overtime and finally finishing the mountain of work assigned to you, you finally get up from your chair to move your body a little bit. This day went great: meetings went smoothly, everything on your planner happened, and most importantly, it’s your birthday. Of course, your father and those close to him greeted you and though you didn’t mind if someone know (or doesn't know) your birthday, the gesture warmed your heart.

“Baby?,” Leon called out.

“Huh? Leon?,” you asked. He emerged from the dark, a dainty bouquet of pink and white tulips in his hand, along with a card. Just as you recommended last week, there’s a baby pink ribbon clipped on his hair.

“Oh you didn’t have to–”

“I didn’t have to but I wanted to,” he says before pulling you in for a slow, tender kiss.

“Happy birthday to my only girl.”

Words won’t ever show how truly thankful you are for this gesture so you show it through actions. You pull him in for a hungry kiss, hands travelling to his black tie to loosen it up. Leon places your gifts on your desk, his finally unoccupied hands going to his own tie to help you loosen it faster. You kick your heels off, legs wrapping around his waist as the kisses slowly become more heated and passionate. His hand travels to your blazer, nimble fingers quickly wo–

“Happy birthday, Y/N–”

“WOAH WHAT THE FUCK.”

“CLAIRE PLEASE DON’T DROP THE CAKE.”

“LEON! Y/N?!”

You quickly push Leon off of you and get back up, fixing your hair and feeling around your clothes for any unclasped buttons or pulled down zippers. Embarrassment rushes through your veins, your heart lodged in your throat. Leon’s embarrassed too– shimmery pink lip gloss smeared on his lips, blond hair ruffled, and his tie hanging loose around his neck. His entire face is red and suddenly it’s not so bad if the ground collapses and swallows him up (though he prefers if you swallow him up but now is not the time).

“Uh… hey guys!,” you chirp with an awfully fake smile.

“Hi guys– we were–,” Leon stammers, hand behind his neck.

“Hey guys, if you were busy… we can… we can wait outside…,” Jill awkwardly mumbles, eyeing the poorly hidden bouquet on the desk.

“Yeah… we can wait outside the building if it’ll be noisy too,” Rebecca adds, which causes Leon to almost choke on air and for you to stare at her discombobulated.

“NO– No guys, you can um– now is fine, I promise–,” you stammer. Leon follows suit, trying to make it look as if you two weren’t interrupted in the worst way possible.

NOTE - I saw the reception of my first fic in here and it's looking positive so far so thank you very much! The likes, reblogs, and new followers mean so much to me and I seriously started contemplating telling my parents that I write (I'm so not telling them lmao). I hope you guys enjoy this fic just like you have with my other one!

The dividers (the doodle-y ones) are made by @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).