#I know this has been said before but I wanted to say it too

[adrienneleclerc]

Pay For Dinner

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N watches a TikTok and decides to do the same thing to see how Charles would react

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, you already know

A/N: I am currently working on a Lando Norris fanfic, If that goes well, MAYBE I can continue writing for him and also start writing for Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri, if thats what y'all want.

Y/N knows that money is no object for Charles, he's an F1 driver for fuck's sake. So when Y/N saw this couple on TikTok, vitoandniyah, where Niyah pulls a "prank" on her boyfriend, she decided to try it out. Qualifying went okay, Y/N was waiting for Charles in the hospitality and when he came, she stood up from the couch and gave Charles a quick kiss.

"I know qualifying didn't exactly go like you wanted, but i was thinking we could go out to eat." Y/N suggested

"Yeah, that sounds good, mon coeur. Do you know where to go?" Charles asked.

"I was thinking you pick since I've never been to Spain before." Y/N said. Charles nodded his head.

"Yeah, that sounds good, baby. We could go to Xera, we just gotta stop by at the hotel so i could change." Charles said.

"Do i need to change?" Y/N asked

"Nope, you look beautiful, lets go." Charles said.

They exited the paddock and Y/N stayed in the car while Charles went up to his room to change. Y/N watched the TikTok again so she'll know what to say and she hopes that Charles would react in a sort of similar fashion as Vito. Charles opened the car door and he was wearing a nice button down shirt with dress pants. When he entered the car, Charles gave her a kiss,

"You ready to go, mon coeur?" Charles asked.

"Yeah, about that, mi vida, I don't have money." Y/N said, trying to look sad but Charles just stared at her

"What do you mean?" Charles asked.

"Well i wanted to pay for our dinner since you did better in qualifying today than in Canada." Y/N explained.

"Mon coeur, I love you. that was thoughtful of you, but it's okay that I'm paying." Charles said.

"But I WANT to pay." Y/N said

"When did you ever pay for our dates? When did i let you pay for ANYTHING? Remember, the money that you make is your money but the money I make is our money. Now let's go, I'm hungry." Charles said.

"Muñeco, can we go tomorrow so i can pay?" Y/N asked

"Okay, if you really want to pay, here." Charles said, placing his wallet in Y/N's hand.

"Really?" Y/N asked

"Yes, pick any card you want, and when the check comes, place the card on top of it, make it seem like you're paying since you want to so bad." Charles said.

"But you're stilling paying though." Y/N argues and thats when Charles turns in his seat so he can face Y/N

"Okay, let me just tell you this, mon coeur, as long as we are dating, you won't have to pay for anything ever, unless I'm not with you, obviously." Charles said.

"Aw, amor, that was so sweet. And it's a prank, I do have money." Y/N said.

"That's good that you have money, i was going to transfer 8 thousand euros into your bank account." Charles said.

"You are the best boyfriend ever." Y/N said, giving him a quick kiss and she her phone dinged, Y/N checked the notification. "Charles!" Y/N turned her phone to Charles to read the notification 'Charles Leclerc has sent you 8,000 euros' "Seriously?"

"Yes, now lets go eat and you can use that money to go shopping since you never been here before." Charles said.

"Okay, I love you." Y/N said.

"I love you too." Charles said before pulling out of the hotel parking lot.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Sorry for not posting recently

[pathologicalreid]

could we get Spencer Reid with a hypersexual reader that uses sex as a bad coping mechanism? 💕💕

don't look in the mirror | S.R.

seeking comfort in those you hold close, except there's a right way and a wrong way to do it

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (i think?) w/ mature themes (18+ mdni) content warnings: seeking comfort in sex, avoidance, mental health issues, spencer has those info dumps on lock, shame, self deprecation, reader hates her job (me too), blood as a metaphor, crying word count: 1.85k a/n: this is such an important topic and i'm so thankful for you asking me to write this!!!! i know this is a premise i've seen before, so i tried to make mine different. (im actually really proud of how this one turned out)

“Baby,” Spencer whispered in your ear, turning his head to the side as you left small, slow kisses on the exposed skin of his neck.

You hummed but refused to detach your lips from his soft skin, tugging gently at his shirt so that you could make your way down to his collarbone. He smelled like sunshine and the jet, an admittedly odd combo that did nothing to stop your movements down the column of his throat. His neck vibrated with sound, but none of his words registered, it all went in one ear and out the other.

His hand gently settled on the small of your back and you took a deep breath before you began pulling at the knot of his tie, “Y/N,” he muttered in a warning.

Your head snapped up at his tone, disappointed that you didn’t find the same want in his eyes that you knew was blazing in your own irises. Synapses in your brain were firing at lightning speed, and your heart was beating so quickly that it was like it was trying to keep up. “I missed you,” you whispered to him, allowing your eyes to flitter across his face.

Spencer settled his hands on your hips, firmly grabbing them in exactly the way you wanted, but instead of pulling you closer to him, he stilled their rotation.

Your heart stuttered.

“What happened?” He asked you tentatively, using the pads of his thumbs to rub soothing circles on your hips, trying to keep you from moving while giving you comfort. Despite the way you were sitting in his lap, Spencer still felt worlds away from you – if he was on Earth, you were in a different galaxy. 

Hesitantly, your lips parted, and you took a deep breath before shutting your mouth again, deciding you had nothing to say. While he’d been away, nothing significant had happened, everything in your life had trudged on exactly the way it always did. You went to work at the same job you’ve had since you got out of college with a boss who most certainly had it out for you, and you came home to an empty apartment with your phone volume all the way up, waiting for your boyfriend to call you. You really were pathetic, but you didn’t voice those concerns, instead, you answered, “Nothing happened,” the half-truth easily slid from your mouth. “Can’t I just have missed my boyfriend and want to spend quality time with him?”

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head back as his hair moved with him, “Stop, Y/N,” he said.

Without even realizing it, your hands had drifted down to his chest, and your hands were absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, “I didn’t…” you started to say, but your words faltered when you noticed the way he was looking at you. You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the rest of the world was still there as you tried to climb off of Spencer’s lap. “Let me go,” you insisted, hating how small your voice sounded as you pushed against him to no avail.

“I can’t let you go, not right now,” he told you, steadying his resolve as he watched you. You were staring at your hands like they were covered in blood, red-covered palms as you watched, horrified at the idea of them developing a mind of their own. It wasn’t as if your hands had suddenly become sentient entities, your heart and your brain were working against each other, fighting a silent, internal war. “Pick a spot for your hands, and just leave them there,” he whispered to you.

Your hands tremored as you settled them on either one of Spencer’s shoulders, “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” you mumbled, struggling to find the strength to enunciate your thoughts.

Spencer sighed, “Why don’t we take a minute, okay?” Delicately, he moved one hand from its station on your hip and moved it to cup your cheek, holding your face as if it were made of fine china. “What happened while I was gone, honey?”

His hand was wet on your face, or rather, your face was wet from tears that had started to trickle from your tear ducts. You furrowed your brows in frustration, “Why do you assume that something happened? Nothing happened while you were gone, why can’t you just let that be the answer?”

“Because it’s not the answer,” he insisted, dropping his hand back to your hip, continuing to stop you from getting up and moving away from him.

You scoffed, “Is it not the answer, or is it just not the answer you’re looking for, Spencer?”

“It’s not the answer, and I’m looking for the answer. You can tell me anything,” he urged, resuming his soothing movements over your hip.

As you watched his expression morph into a slight panic, you realized he was beginning to think something happened to you. With what he did for work, it was always in the back of his mind, you being in danger of being hurt by other people but what he rarely considered was the idea of you being a danger to yourself. “Nothing happened, okay? Absolutely nothing happened to me while you were gone and everything in the world stayed exactly the fucking same. I went to work every day and I came home and sat around while I waited for you to call, I waited for you to come home and now you won’t even touch me.”

Your tears kept coming, leaving saline stains on his gray shirt as your head spun and his movements stopped. “Work was bad?” He asked softly, using his fingertips to wipe beneath your eyes. He knew about your issues at work, he had been encouraging you to leave the job for months, but you were convinced that a promotion was coming. “You shouldn't have to be miserable every time you go to work.”

“Not everyone gets to be hand-picked for a top job at twenty-one. Some people have to work shitty jobs to make ends meet,” you snapped at him, nostrils flaring angrily.

He didn’t answer right away, you became hyperaware of the pounding of your heart as you waited for his response. As you waited for him to kick you out. “I told you that I’d support you if you wanted to go back to school. I meant it, Y/N,” he told you, brown eyes flooded with concern. “You can leave your job and pursue your dream, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, baby.” Spencer leaned back against the couch cushions, “I can’t help you until you help yourself, love.”

Slouching your shoulders, you felt your eyes starting to line with tears again, “It feels so unfair to have you shoulder more responsibility so that I can go back to school.”

“No,” he said, “What’s not fair is you lying to me and then trying to avoid it with sex. I asked you how your week had been, and you either didn’t care to answer me or you have such bad tunnel vision that you didn’t even hear me.” He gently chided, giving you time to drown in the blatant concern in his eyes, “and what’s worse is you never told me it was this bad.”

You averted your eyes, focusing your gaze on the chessboard behind him as you thought about your next move. In one fell swoop, he could checkmate you, completely catch you off guard, and tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear. Alternatively, you could sacrifice yourself for his benefit, “I hate my job. My boss is making it impossible for me to make any positive stride, and that’s on top of him being a misogynistic douche.” You flexed your hands where they remained on Spencer’s shoulders and sighed, “And yes, I miss you when you’re gone. Yes, I lied to you about it, but what would you do about it? Leave your big important job because your girlfriend is lonely?”

He craned his head to the side, silently encouraging you to make eye contact with him, “I’d hope that you’d feel comfortable enough to tell me how you’re feeling so that we could work something out – we can talk through this. It’s a two-way street though, you have to talk to me. I can make an effort to call and text more if you promise me, you’ll make an effort to communicate with me.”

Slowly, you started to nod, “I… I can do that, but you hate texting,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows curiously.

“I’ll get over it,” he reassured you, studying your features, “You’re worth it,” he added.

Finally, you pulled your arms back, hugging them around yourself protectively, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “I don’t know why I am… the way that I am.”

Spencer took a deep breath before giving you a look that told you he had an inkling, “You’re unhappy, with me or the world, it doesn’t matter, but you think the solution to your displeasure comes in the form of an orgasm and that’s just not the answer, honey.”

You hiccupped and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself like you could make yourself smaller, “I still don’t know why though.”

“You’re seeking the rush, not necessarily the act of sex itself, you want the dopamine and oxytocin rush that comes with an orgasm. Your brain convinces yourself that it’s what you need because when you get unhappy like this, all you can focus on is how to feel better and fast,” he spoke to you gently – he knew this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to hear. “It’s brief, and it’s just for that moment, and your brain might even recall how your parasympathetic nervous system shuts down after you come, and your body gets tired. You get a rush of serotonin, and you relax enough to convince yourself that it'll be okay, but you need to find something more permanent. I’ll help you.”

Your arms fell limply at your sides, “Do you think I’m broken?”

The small smile he gave you was enough of an answer, “No, in fact, I know you’re not broken.” Tenderly, he reached out and unwound your arms from around your torso, “And since I know you won’t stop thinking about it, I do still find you attractive.” Spencer studied your face, “Where do you want to start?”

“Do you want to help me draft a letter of resignation?” You offered, giving Spencer a shy smile.

He hummed in response, “Yeah, in a bit.” Your boyfriend reached his hands out to you, now being the one who pulled you close, “Come here, darling.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around your torso, “I missed you,” you mumbled, entirely deflating your lungs as you let yourself relax.

Spencer reached up, ruffling your hair with one hand and keeping another on the small of your back as he sighed with you, “I missed you too.”

[coff33andb00ks]

LANDO + 36 AHHH 🤍

36: unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Lando is clingy. Not in a bad way, it's actually endearing how much he craves physical touch. It doesn't matter what's going on, he needs to feel you. He's a hugger, a hand holder, an arm around your shoulder, head in your lap on movie night, thighs touching in the back seat, and though it can sometimes be annoying you love it. It's like he knows that each touch - the hand squeezes, every hug, each time he leans against you, all the big and little touches throughout the day - he knows that it heals the scared girl you keep locked inside you.

You love it, truly. But...

Lando's also hot. In the attractive sense yes of course, but also temperature wise. He's a furnace and still chooses to dress in hoodies and sweaters and jackets like he's freezing. You can handle it during the day - mainly because he can't cling to you and always has to do some work - but at night it's torture. Or it was. Until you finally told him you couldn't fully sleep in his arms all night or you'd roast alive. Since you'd told him at three in the morning, sweating and standing in front of the fan, he hadn't acted hurt or asked if you even loved him. He'd apologized and asked if he could at least hold you until you were almost asleep.

Compromise? In this economy? You'd agreed, and in the weeks since you've been able to sleep without worrying you'd be smothered by his heat.

He holds you and doesn't fight you when you wiggle away for your space. Sometimes you wake up to his leg over yours or his hand on your chest or his face in your neck but it's not hard to wriggle into a more comfortable position. And you make sure he gets plenty of cuddles and hugs when you're awake.

He's obviously tired as you get ready for bed and you know he's worn out. He doesn't talk about his occasional insomnia much but you know it's there, lurking and waiting for a time he needs as much rest as he can get before it rears its ugly head again. As you get into bed he sighs and reaches for you.

"Are we getting boring?" He mumbles the words against the back of your neck, his nose pressed in your hair.

"How do you mean?" you ask, grunting as his arms tighten around you, his body curling closer.

"S'posed to be putting my kids in you."

You roll your eyes. It's been his goal since you became official and he realized that his occasional fuckboy tendencies weren't going to scare you off. "It's fine baby, you can do it in the morning."

"M'just tired," he mumbles. "Still wanna fuck you though."

"I know. Go to sleep, you can do it later."

"K." He kisses your neck and wriggles closer. Until you think he wasn't joking the time he said he wished he could crawl under your skin and stay.

You read for a while, until his breathing evens and you feel him relax fully, his arm heavy over you. The heat is overwhelming and you carefully slide free, switching off the lamp while he rolls away with a sleepy groan. And you know for sure that he's exhausted because in the time it takes you to fall asleep he doesn't wiggle close again.

You dream about the kids he keeps saying he wants to put in you. Beautiful little babies with his eyes and messy hair that wreak havoc in the best way just like their dad. And in your dream you think to yourself that having his kids wouldn't be so bad...

When you awake he's still on the other side of the bed. His face is pushed into the pillow and despite the gentle snoring and sheet marks on his cheek he's still adorable to you. His arm is stretched towards you and as you become aware of your body you see his hand.

Clutching yours.

Fingers intertwined, thumb hooked over yours, his knuckles white. He's clinging to your hand like it's a lifeline and oh, you feel guilty for telling him you didn't want him holding you all night. You can tell his hand searched for yours - his arm is twisted in the sheet and yours is too And you wonder if he was able to even sleep properly until he was holding onto you, or if it had been a blind search in the night by both of you, because you know deep down your body craves his touch as much as he craves yours.

With your free hand you untangle the sheets and he stirs. And while he reaches for you with his other arm and pulls you close he's still asleep, still clutching your hand. You never want him to let go.

[muntitled]

Virginity Files: Enha Edition

▪︎ Summary: how Hyung Line would respond to finding out you're a virgin

▪︎ Cw: Established Relationship, nsfw, virginity kink, Heeseung's part is a little unethical, +18, Minors dni

Heeseung | 희승

Abstinence had never really been a major factor in Heeseung's philosophy. In fact, he believed quite the opposite. Always choosing to forgo self control, in favour of being passionate, hedonistic and sometimes even borderline lecherous in your relationship.

Discussions of sex would plague you early on in your relationship because sexual gratification is something Heeseung refuses to compromise on- and you look too fucking gorgeous in nothing but a simple bathrobe for him to be expected to have pure thoughts.

He kisses up the side of your neck first, with his arms encircling your waist from behind like ivy creeping along the sides of an archaic mansion. You tilt your neck, welcoming his kisses as you rub the rest of your lotion along your forearms, the smell of cocoa butter having dire effects on Heeseung's restraint.

"I could fucking eat you alive," he whispers drunkenly in your ear, causing the sharpest of gasps to leave your throat when you feel his hardened length push up against your ass.

'It's happening' you think idly to yourself as Heeseung's hands crawl up your front until they're dipping into the opening of the robe.

When his fingers make contact with your breasts you freeze and Heeseung groans as he dips his head between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes and tweaks your nipple, his cock growing impossibly harder when he feels your nipples turn to hardened peaks.

"Fuck-" he whispers before dragging you down onto the bed. Your body is limp and unresponsive when Heeseung hovers over you, your back pressed against the comforter as he inspects the expanse of your body with his large domineering hands.

You should've known what you were getting into with a guy like Heeseung.

He lives, eats and breathes sex.

How could you ever be so dumb?

"I need to touch you," he whispers, undoing the belt of your robe.

"You'll be good for me?" He asks- but his movements stop when your hand on his, stops all movements.

"I haven't had sex yet-"

Heeseung only blinks once before flashing you that dazzling smile. "Well obviously we haven't had sex yet- that's what I'm trying to correct."

"Ever. Heeseung." You release a shaky breath. "I mean ever."

It only takes a maximum of 15 infuriating seconds before Heeseung continues to slowly undo the knot of your belt as he says, "Would it be unethical if I said I'm more hard now than I've ever been?”

Jay | 제이

The idea of sex comes pretty early on in the relationship because it's all Jay could ever think about in your presence. Sex had never been anything monumental in his previous relationships- it had always been exceedingly casual, like a mutual business transaction with both parties guaranteed to step away from the venture wholly satisfied.

But here Jay is, on his knees in front of you like a martyr at the altar.

The blazer he had worn is discarded somewhere around him but all that plagues his mind is evil, diabolical thoughts of you. He looks completely wrecked as he kisses up the sides of your legs, his dress shirt half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. At the start of the evening he had looked dapper, not a single hair out of place and not a single wrinkle on the prada shirt. Ready to meet your patent.

But for you… here, he's a mess.

"What has gotten i-into you?"

You dig your hands into his hair, urging him to stand up but all he does is groan and nuzzle his face further between your thighs.

"You know how beautiful you looked tonight?” he breathes, lifting the fabric to reach more skin, “It was torture having to save face for your parents but secretly wanting to eat you out the whole the night-"

Jay punctuates his mind numbing confession by lifting the ends of your dress and ducking underneath. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your lace underwear and he pulls-

"Jay, stop-"

"Why?" His voice cracks under the weight of his own desire, and he peaks up from under your dress to look up at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, just let me taste you." Your heart shatters. "I know we haven't done anything, and that's fair- maybe you don't trust me yet- I don't know-" as Jay speaks all you can do is shake your head, "But I'm fucking attracted to my girlfriend- I need to be inside of you, I need to taste you and fuck you and hold you-"

"I'm a virgin."

Jay's rambling dissolves into complete and utter silence and you're left to watch as he sits back on his haunches, completely mystified.

"What?"

"That's why we haven't done anything- I-"

Your words of embarrassment completely dissolve in your throat once Jay ducks under the skirts of your dress once more, sending your heart into complete overdrive.

"Tonight's the night then,"

Is all he says with the mission of eating you out with absolute ardour.

Jake | 제이크

Being in a relationship with a boy made of literal prince tendencies meant there were a lot of lecherous acts that you had to coax out of him. When you and Jake first shared your first kiss under New Year's fireworks he had tenderly placed his hand on your cheek as if your skin was forged of porcelain and he muttered, "Is this okay?” Those three words haunted your relationship to the point that you feared your boyfriend saw you as less of a girlfriend, and more a fragile, precious thing he coveted.

These thoughts spin in your head as Jake rubs circles on your inner thigh through the duration of your Friday-night movie.

You couldn't focus on Toy Story 2 because Jake's large hand and its glorious callouses left nothing but goosebumps in their wake, and you're completely and utterly brimming with energy when you pause the movie to gain his attention.

"Can we kiss?" You ask.

You're not sure why you ask but this running theme of always seeking for consent I'd a habit that is difficult to shake off.

"Fuck, if I wasn't thinking about it for the passed hour," he replies before scooping you into his arms. "Get over here."

You're straddling his hips and his mouth crashes against yours, eliciting an unsteady moan from the confines of your throat.

Jake is such an eager kisser. Always eager to please.

Always eager to do good for you. It's like he was purposely trying to kiss away every other guy you may have come into contact with.

If only he knew how embarrassingly small that list really is.

"Woah- Bunny, what're you doing?" Jake's hands are still on the soft sides of your hips when you grind down against his length. You're both fully clothed but the intention of your actions is very much clear. He curls his arms around you as if urging you to stop, but his steadily hardening cock gives him away.

"F-Fuck," he curses under his breath finally relenting and choosing to lean back against the couch as you grinded down against him. He watches you with hooded eyes. "This is how you're feeling tonight, yeah?"

Your bottom lip clamps between your teeth, "Yeah..." and it completely erupts a wave of arousal in the pits of Jake's stomach.

"You want Jake to take care of you?" It's the way in which he says it, like every word had to be meticulously asked in order for you to understand the severity of the situation. It made you feel silly, and juvenile and so incredibly blissful.

"P-please," you whine, locking your arms behind the back of his neck as you grind down harder against the bulge in his pants. "I'm ready."

"What- like ready, ready." Instead of admiring how cute your boyfriend is, all you're able to do is bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll take good care of you." He says eventually, with his large hand rubbing soft circles into your back. "Jake'll take good care of you..."

You need him to make you feel good and that alone has him soaring along the silver lined clouds.

Sunghoon | 성훈

Unlike the rest of Sunghoon's meticulously planned life, falling helplessly in love with you- and then your body- had been something to hit him quite unsuspectingly.

You stormed into his life, and shook up every aspect of his fully functional brain, making him question just how good of an idea it was to invite you to live with him. Seeing as you two were quickly becoming a serious ensemble, Sunghoon knew the time to solidify the relationship was quickly approaching, still, it caught him wholly by surprise when you admitted your inexperience under the soft glow of his overhead light. Wine intermixed with saliva lay on both your lips due to the sweet, drunken kisses you've exchanged on the couch. Sunghoon didn't mean to get handsy. He rarely does.

In fact, Sunghoon prides himself on his restraint when it comes to you. Seeing you, however, in this space, amongst his things, as if you were a part of his property... he lowered the wine glass onto the coffee table to swoop you into his arms.

"D-Did you hear what I said?" You felt embarrassed to have to admit to being a virgin but somehow you felt that consent was needed. Perhaps he may not be completely comfortable being made subject to the daunting task of being someone's 'first'.

"W-We don't have to do this?" You try to whisper. You try to push him away by his chest but his teeth sink into the crook of your neck drawing a heightened gasp out of the confines of your throat.

"We should get you ready first," he whispers instead, knocking all the air out of your lungs in one fell swoop. His hands glide down over your silk pyjamas until he's cupping your sex- the most private, most vulnerable parts of you. "We'll go slow." Sunghoon said with his nose still buried in your neck as he snuck his hand down your pants. You were a gasping mess, so unused to the feeling of it being someone else's hand on that particular spot.

"Just relax, Baby,"

"Sunghoon-"

"Right here," he whispered, drinking in your gasps like they were the finishing remains of crimson red wine. "I'm right here,"

[clockwayswrites]

Danny/Tim , Cyan, The whir of a computer fan @hobiisthesunfiteme

Tim took another large sip of his coffee as he watched the person a few seats over from him pull out his laptop. The same person had been sitting in basically the same seat for the whole class, as had Tim. This wouldn’t mater much, except for the fact that Tim still couldn’t figure out what was going on with the guy’s computer.

The thing was a monstrosity and obviously about five home brews on top of each other. The case was chunky and dated, to the point that Tim was sure the screen had to have been replaced at least once to even be functioning. The keys were mechanical— a rare thing to find on the keyboards of modern, sleek laptop. And the fan in that thing sounded like a distant jet trying to take off.

Tim really wouldn’t be surprised if that thing burst into fire one lecture or exploded.

Maybe he should be more concerned by that than he was, but this was a nine o’clock class and Tim couldn’t work up the worry to care about mortal perils before 10 at the earliest and at least three coffees.

That left Tim mostly curious and a little amused.

“Come on baby, please wake up,” the guy crooned to the laptop, stroking the casing gently.

Tim couldn’t help but snort at that.

The guy’s head whipped around to Tim and he blinked, wide eyed, as his face slowly colored. “I, um, the old girl is just temperamental. She needs encouragement sometimes. Wow I sound really weird right now, I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, but I get it. I work with technology a lot too. Sometimes you just need to talk sweet to them.”

“Exactly!”

“But I have to ask, what even is she?” Tim asked, motioning with his coffee.

“You can’t just ask a lady that,” the guy said with an over dramatic gasp.

Tim rolled his eyes, but a smile was tugging at his lips. “I do not believe that she was made with a microphone.”

“Okay, you’re right but you don’t have to say it. She’s sensitive.”

“All of her or just parts?”

That got a laugh out of the guy. “Okay, okay, so maybe she’s more of a Frankenstein these days, but I need her to last. I don’t have the money for anything new.”

“Wayne Foundation,” Tim replied automatically.

The guy’s brows scrunched together. “What? I mean, I know Wayne, but what?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were a native. The Wayne Foundation has a fund for students going to college, it helps cover supplies like books and, these days, laptops or tablets. You should apply for it and see if it can help. It’s worth a shot at least.”

“Oh, thanks. I sorta though that stuff was mostly for… like families and things,” he explained. “I’ll give it a look and see what information they need.”

“Might as well, right?” Tim said.

“Right. Oh, I’m Danny, by the by.”

“Tim.”

The guy— Danny, smiled. For some reason it felt almost blinding. “Tim. Nice to meet you, Tim.”

(Feel free to continue if you want~)

[toxycodone]

Deflowered. (Laios Touden x Reader)

content. virginity loss (laios), fluff. a metric ton of it. there's also emotional crying so. watch out.

reader's past/experiences/looks are not mentioned. I wrote this as more as an immersive means of sex with Laios, so physical and mental feelings are the main point. reader has a pussy (for the sake of writing) but this fic is still pretty gender neutral. If you are not a vagina haver/enjoyer/whatever you can gloss over it w/o much issue.

words like pretty/beautiful/etc. are used but in reference to reader AND Laios. gender equality or whatever.

author's note. This fic is one of my aforementioned stretch goals from my fundraiser for Palestine! So yay, thanks so much everyone for funding it!

word count. 6.7k+ (I went too hard on this.)

Like my writing? Toss a dono to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund and join the Fic Raffle! (I will kiss u fully on the mouth).

“Laios…are you even into sex?”

It’s a question he never really saw coming, but now, five months into your relationship, it’s hitting him like a train. You’re looking at him with genuine curiosity, no judgment. It’s simply a question.

“Well…um…”

The blonde has to take a moment to compose himself before answering the question. Despite his closeness to you, discussion of such intimate topics does still escape him.

“I can’t say I’m not interested.” He speaks, now finding his hands much more interesting to stare at than your gaze. “I’ve never really considered how to approach the topic.”

“But you’re interested?” You lean forward a bit. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Usually, you wouldn’t think to be so bold. But conversations with Laios require a certain amount of directness. You don’t want to leave anything up to interpretation.

Laios’s cheeks begin to turn pink. He looks to you now, and it’s obvious the action requires a vast amount of courage from the man.

“I do. I’m…very attracted to you.” He admits.

It’s reassuring to hear him say it out loud. It’s been a long while since you’ve been lusting after him. Spending so much time without acting on it, you weren’t sure if you could take it much longer.

“Good.” You smile to yourself, before continuing. “So…are we going to do anything about it, or…?”

The last sentence is said more in a teasing manner. You’re hoping to break the tension between you and Laios a tad. However, he doesn’t seem especially moved. His gaze leaves you once more.

“I’ve…I’ve never…” He hesitates. “You’d be my first.”

That revelation has you shocked…at least, sort of. Laios is handsome and well-built, but he’s awfully busy. You weren’t surprised to be his first steady relationship, but to be his first time…? Not even a quick romp when he was in the military? Or moving with the caravan? That’s…surprising. But not totally uninvited.

“So you’re a virgin.”

Laios looks ashamed when you say it out loud. He knows that an average man of his age should have a plethora of experience under his belt.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve never really had a chance.”

Laios’s face burns. It’s embarrassing to speak the truth. You must be disappointed to be with a man like him. A man, psh, if he can even call himself such…

Before his mind can continue its self-deprecating spiral, your voice cuts through the strife.

“I’d be honored to change that, if you’d let me.”

You keep your tone and demeanor sincere. You accentuate this feeling by placing your hand on his knee, reassuringly giving it a squeeze.

Laios looks shocked. Yet…happy. He’s happy. Of course. He should’ve expected this reaction from you. Why was he nervous in the first place? You’re wonderful.

“You want to…copulate with me?”

You snicker. Leave it to Laios to make things abruptly technical. Despite his interest, he’s clearly not fully comfortable with this situation just yet.

“Yes, Laios. I do in fact want to copulate with you. Very much so.”

And many more times after that, you think. But you’d keep that to yourself for now.

“Wow.” The blush on his face deepens. Laios stares at you for a few moments, before smiling.

“Then I’d be honored to have you as well.”

So here you are. After a few days of planning (mainly to ensure Laios’s comfort and preparation), you’re laid across his bed with him at your side.

The both of you took care to really set the mood. Falin’s not home, for one (thankfully she planned on spending this evening with Marcille), and Laios’s room looks a lot more inviting with the couple of candles lit up. It’s romantic yet comfortable. The perfect scenario for what’s bound to ensue.

You gently stroke the fabric of Laios’s nightshirt as you lay beside him. The two of you have been in this scenario multiple times before—often before an intense cuddle session or the occasional make out. This time the feeling was…new, even to you. The atmosphere is tense. 

“You okay?”

Laios looks at you. His pale skin is tinged in a rose hue, despite you two not even getting started yet.

“I’m nervous.” He admits. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”

“I know that. You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t have any expectations, so, you don’t need to worry. I just want to spend time with you.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want—“

“I want to!” Laios interjects. He looks almost startled as you by his own enthusiasm, then coughs awkwardly. “I want to be with you. In this way. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”

Now that piques your interest. He’s been thinking about you? You can work with this.

“You’ve thought about me?” Your fingers start to trail down his shirt, from his chest to his midriff. “What kind of thoughts, Laios?”

The man tenses, but quickly shakes it off. You notice his breathing pick up.

“Thoughts…of us. What this would be like…” Laios shifts a bit, his eyes follow your fingers as they dive under his shirt.

“Mhm…” You urge him to continue. “Mind if I take this off?”

Laios shakes his head. His night shirt comes off as easy as ever. You’ve seen him shirtless quite a few times, but the sight never gets old. You take a few moments to admire the pleasant softness of his upper body, before looking to him again.

“Go on.”

You work on unbuttoning your top as he speaks.

“I was wondering…” Laios’s train of thought seems to stall as you remove your shirt. His wide, golden eyes drink you in before he snaps himself back to reality. “How you’d feel. The noises you’d make,, I still can’t believe you want to do this with me.”

You roll your eyes internally. If only he could see himself through your eyes. He’d know if anything, he’s doing you an utmost favor by letting you deflower him.

“I can’t imagine who I’d rather be doing this with right now than you.” You lean to chastely kiss his cheek, before moving down his jaw. “You’re absurdly handsome.” Simply kissing his warm skin makes your stomach tie in knots. Gods, you want him inside you.

Laios’s breath hitches. A breathy moan parts the silence before he speaks again.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

Soft lips trail down his chest, then linger over the space near his heart. When you press your ear to his skin, you can hear the rhythmic thumps pounding against his ribcage. It makes you smile.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Lai. We can stop at any time. I won’t be mad.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to his heart.

Laios smiles, comforted by the gesture.

“I know. I want—well, I’ve wanted. To do this, though. For a while.”

He sits up a little to better see your face. You return his smile, then get back to work.

Laios gently starts to stroke your hair as you kiss down his body. His soft moans and whimpers fill the air. Under your lips, you can feel the skin on his stomach twitch and tense in between kisses.

You let one of your hands trail up his thigh. It doesn’t move towards his crotch just yet, instead, you settle to massage the flesh from over the soft linen of his night pants. You move towards his inner thigh teasingly slow.

The goal here is to rile him up as much as possible. Unlike other men, Laios isn’t just hard and raring to go from his thoughts alone. His own shyness and insecurities still hold him back. But, with his mind clouded with lust, Laios would be likely to let more of his inhibitions go.

After a little more teasing, you finally decide to dip your fingers under his waistband. His breath hitches when your knuckles accidentally bump his groin—even the tiniest moments have Laios reeling. You pause your movements to look up at him, doing your best to hide the smugness you feel.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, then brushes some hair out of your face. He’s smiling and his lips part, but nothing comes out. He purses them instead as if he’s debating something.

You raise a brow, which prompts him to keep talking.

“C-can we kiss? While you do this?”

He asks this almost sheepishly, and it’s enough to make you blush as well. Why the hell does he get to be so cute?

You nod, obliging his request by moving up the bed and leaning forward to press your lips to his. You can feel his lips curl into the gesture. He’s smiling. You swear he’s the most adorable thing in this world.

The lip lock starts out sweet. The two of you take your time to set the pace, pressing loving kisses to each other, before it grows more heated as your hand gently palms his bulge through his underwear. Each movement earns a gasp or groan from the man before you. It’s not long before you feel him start to harden beneath your grasp.

You pull away for just a moment to look into his eyes. Laios’s face is much more relaxed now. He seems to be more focused on the moment.

“May I?”

Your fingers dip below the fabric of his underwear, but don’t dare go further without affirmation.

Laios nods.

“Yes, please.”

He helps you shuffle off his night pants. In respect of fairness, you place his hands on your hips so he can aid you in removing yours as well. Laios bites his lip a bit, his cheeks now fully blooming with a rosy hue. The sight of your bare ass and thighs obviously has him excited.

Next is his underwear. You’re seated in between his thighs as you remove them. It doesn’t come off as eagerly as his pants, but when you press a kiss to his hip he’s more than happy to oblige.

His semi-erect cock is quite a sight to behold,\ It’s not abnormally huge or anything, but the fact that you’re finally seeing what you’ve imagined to be pounding into you for the last few months. The fact that is a part of Laios that no one else has seen—or gets to see— but you? You can barely stop yourself from drooling. You want this thing in your hands. Mouth. Ass. Gods, everywhere it can fit. He could split you in two and you’d thank him.

You spit into your palm, then grasp it. He’s warm and weighty in your hand. You can already imagine how it’d feel cradled by your walls. Your hand slides down the length a few times—earning a choked moan from Laios. It’s pulsing with life and solid now in your grasp. His foreskin moves with each stroke of your hand as precum starts to pearl at the tip, aiding in lubrication.

“Feels better when someone else does it, yeah?” You ask with a smile.

Laios merely nods, nipping his bottom lip.

“Y-yeah.”

Another stroke has him lying his head back in the pillow, groaning. His large hands fist the sheets. You take one and lie it against the back of your head, and almost instinctively, he grips your hair. However, it’s with the same power one may use to hold a sheet of glass. Eh, you think as he settles into this, Laios will eventually get it and get more firm.

You can’t help but give him an experimental lick. Laios makes an odd whimpering noise—but it’s clear it’s in pleasure—so you continue to taste him. It doesn’t have much of a flavor. It’s mostly just like licking his skin, it’s clear he washed pretty thoroughly before. His precum starts to add a bit of a salty tinge as you continue. You make sure to lick down to his balls as well. He’s got a pretty thick covering of blonde pubic hair–but the sounds he makes and the way he curls his toes makes you less than apprehensive to keep working your mouth.

Laios’s lewd sounds fill the air as you continue. His fingers gently brush your scalp for a few strokes, before finding their way to grip you tighter. When you give him a light moan, the reverberations shoot down his cock, and he fists your hair with more passion. 

You start to grind yourself against the mattress, but when that’s not enough, you seat yourself as well as you can on his knee and find some decent friction there. Pleasant waves of arousal course through you, down to your crotch as you start to get yourself off a little. This feeling, along with the feeling of Laios down your throat, starts to put you in a bit of a trance.

A desperate noise cuts through the silence. Laios gives a half-hearted tug and grits his teeth.

“S-stop.” He chokes out, causing you to still. You remove your mouth from his length, before giving him an absentminded stroke. “Please. I don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

You fully remove yourself from him and Laios lets out an audible sigh of relief. You laugh lightly as he begins to regain his composure. That azalea hued blush advances down to his chest now. For someone who’s faced beasts twice his size and kept going, Laios already looks utterly finished beneath you now.

“Why don’t we take a little break, yeah?”

You move up the bed and kiss him on the nose. You know you want him inside you now. But as wet as you are from just grinding against him, you know you need to be stretched open a bit beforehand if you want to take him comfortably.

“Sounds good.” Laios kisses your forehead in return, gently humming. His shaky breaths are starting to return to a normal rhythm.

Now it’s your turn. You lie with your back down on the bed, then look over to Laios.

“Wanna return the favor while you recuperate?” You ask, looking at him unexpectedly. You don’t want to intimidate him or make him feel like he has to do anything at this point. However, Laios’s eyes light up. He eagerly shuffles to be between your legs, before moving to assist you with getting comfortable propped against the pillow on his headboard.

He looks mesmerized by the sight of you through your underwear. The slick on them doesn’t give much to the imagination of what’s underneath. He can barely see the head of your clit poking through as you spread open for him. The sight and smell triggers his overeager brain to lean forward and take a good, long lick.

You jolt a bit, but moan. Laios snaps back, then looks wide eyed at you.

“Sorry! I should’ve asked first.” 

He looks sheepish, but not entirely remorseful. You’d roll your eyes, but you’re actually kinda excited. Okay, it seems his nerves are dissipating now. This is good.

“It’s okay.” You move your hand to stroke his hair affectionately. “Do what you want. You can take off my underwear, too.”

Laios’s hands are shaky, but it's clear that’s from excitement. He licks you through your underwear a couple times as an experiment, making you tense, before finally removing them. The sight of you in front of him, finally exposed, makes his jaw drop–almost comically slow. He stares at you long enough to spark confusion (maybe even some nerves yourself), before he finally speaks up.

“What…exactly do I do?”

You snort. You almost forgot he’s entirely clueless.

“Here,” You spread your lips open for him to see. “It’s not super difficult. Anywhere you lick is gonna feel good. But you should concentrate more on these spots.” One finger points to the sensitive mound at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit. It’s the most important. It…kinda feels similar to me how it did when I was sucking on you. But…don’t get too crazy. The clit’s more sensitive, so you wanna be gentle.”

“Hmmmm…” Laios nods, following along with interest. His large finger reaches out and starts to stroke it lightly. You moan in response.

“That’s good. You’re getting it. But add a bit more pressure. That feels better.” 

He obliges, and you close your eyes with a smile. The added texture of his fingerpad is what adds more pleasure. That feels good. Laios notices your reaction, then continues. As he continues to play with the nub, he pulls back the head. This seems to enlighten him.

“It has a hood!?” He asks excitedly. “Is it more sensitive underneath?”

“Super sensitive.” You agree. “Again, be careful, don’t just–”

He’s not listening. He gives a gentle lick, then a suck, which has you shuddering. You moan out his name in your own choked voice. Your hands grip his hair. It takes willpower not to shove his face into you just yet. “Gods, Laios. You’re eager.” He chuckles, then licks at you again. You grind against his face in return, which makes him moan.

“You’re getting…slicker. More moist.” He remarks, then licks up some of your wetness. “It tastes weird. But good. It’s like I don’t wanna stop. Must be pheromones or it’s similar to how–…”

“Usually people say wet, Laios. Moist is not super sexy.” You chuckle. It’s important to cut him off now. His language along with incoming tangent would probably unintentionally kill the mood. “But it’s because I’m getting more turned on. You’re making me feel turned on.”

Laios shuffles a bit. You can tell he’s getting harder.

“I like that. I like making you feel this way.” He seems to be more confident now.

“Good, you can make me feel even better with your hands, too.”

He’s curious again. You open yourself once more, then point to the lowermost hole.

“That’s the vagina. The main entrance.” He nods, and you continue. “Before we go further, you’re gonna have to stretch me out. It’ll make everything else feel better and more comfortable for me.” 

He looks up at you with a bit of a frown.

“I know what that is.” He pouts. “I’m not entirely clueless.”

Oh.

You chuckle a bit, patting his head affectionately.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You’re a lot smarter than most guys.”

That seems to cheer him up, so you continue. You instruct him to slide one of his digits inside you. He does so, slowly and carefully as you command. His hands are unreasonably large. One digit is actually able to make you feel something as he slides it in and out of you. There’s almost no resistance as he does so, your slick coats his fingers and seeps onto his palm as you ask him to add another. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate them and moan in pleasure. Each movement he makes is extremely purposeful. It’s not just as if he’s trying to finger you, but also get an idea of just how you feel on the inside. The pads of Laios’s fingers gently poke and prod as they continue their movements. He’s enthralled by the texture and feeling of merely his fingers inside you.

“N-now…make like, a scissoring motion.” You ask, starting to feel that typical build up at the core of your groin. Laios gasps as he starts to stretch you out, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“The human body is amazing…” He speaks as if he’s entranced. “I wonder if I–”

His tongue moves to lick up your slit. You let out a wanton groan, then clutch his scalp. Laios takes this as a good sign and moves to lick at your clit like before. The stimulation along with him still fingering you has your breath stifling. You start to fuck yourself on his fingers and grind into his face.

“Just like that, Laios. Good boy…” You praise, not really thinking about what you’re saying. He whimpers into you, making you groan again. The little vibrations when he does that feel amazing. He continues to moan and whimper as he suckles at your clit. You can hear a swishing sound, something against the fabric of the linen sheets, and when you put two and two together you realize he’s humping the bed under him. 

Okay, as good as this feels, you need to put a stop to this. He’s gonna get carpet burn on his dick. And you’re gonna cum on his face and get too brainless to direct this virgin when he’s pounding into you. 

You pull him back by his hair, which Laios doesn’t fight against. His fingers still inside you. There’s a small trail of clear spit and slick that keeps his mouth connected to you. 

“Pull your fingers out. I wanna ride you now.”

He’s no longer hesitating. The way Laios scrambles off you and eagerly lies on his back is comical. You’re not exactly composed yourself, though. You’re just as ready to hop on and ride him until his brain goes numb.

Laios leans his back against the headboard with you seated in his lap. Your hips almost move on their own, sliding your entrance over his cock before grinding your clit against it. Just this has the two of you orchestrating a symphony of moans. The combination of slick, precum, and spit that forms between your legs and drools down your groins adds a barely audible wet sound in addition. When the cusp of your entrance catches on the head of his cock, you shudder.

You can’t wait anymore. And you’re sure Laios can’t either. You position his head at your entrance and give him a kiss.

“Are you ready?” You ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead. You want him to be sure. Not that you’d think he’d back out at this point, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“More than ever.” He responds breathlessly, then kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself on his lips. “Do it, please. I want you.”

You’re sure to align him correctly, then sink down on his tip. Laios makes what might be the weirdest, yet hottest groan from deep in his throat, while his fingertips dig into your sides.

“Relax…” You whisper, ghosting kisses over his cheeks. You’re not fully composed either, but Laios is going to burst if you’re not careful. “It’s okay.”

He lets his face fall, but his shaky breathing continues as you fuck yourself on his tip, steadily opening yourself up to him. This is better than you thought. Much fucking better. Especially with Laios’s gasps and desperate whines in your ear. The heat that radiates from his body, causing the two of you to work up a light sweat. The way his muscles tense and jolt underneath your body. It’s driving you absolutely wild.

“Laios.” You moan, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. You know this pleasure is brainbreaking for him, but it’s making you weak in the knees as well. The insides of your thighs burn with pleasure as you continue to take more of him into you. “You feel so fucking good inside me. You fit so well.”

One of his arms raises. His hand cradles your head, but his fingers grip your hair tightly.

“You’re so warm.” The last word falls out of his mouth like a boulder. He’s struggling to speak as if his mouth is filled with rocks. “So, s-so good…” He’s speaking through grit teeth, swallowing harshly like his throat’s suddenly coated with cotton. When you bottom out, resting your ass on his balls, he cries out your name. He almost comes unfurled beneath you at that moment. 

The act’s finally done. Laios Touden–No longer a virgin. He’s been deflowered by you. 

You bask in the moment. Despite your mind being clouded by pleasure, you take just a second to appreciate him. That ever growing flowery hue lights up his whole being now. Laios face, neck, chest…even parts of his arms and thighs are practically growing red. The rest of his pale skin is tinted with a hibiscus-pink color. Laios’s head is lolled back. His open mouth has a small trail of drool running from it. You lick it up happily, then meet him for a kiss.

“Look at me.”

Your command gently wakes him from his trance. Laios’s golden eyes peer at you lazily.

“You’re not a virgin anymore.” You chuckle, then kiss that broad nose bridge of his. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours.

“Thank you…” He breathes out. His eyes shine with adoration now. 

“I should be thanking you. It’s not every day one gets to take the virginity of someone as pretty as you.” 

Your compliment makes his breath stifle. You give him another loving kiss, which he eagerly returns.

You start to move now, which Laios responds to with a whimper. He tries to roll his head back again, but you wrap an arm around his shoulder and use your hand to direct his gaze where you two connect.

“Look at us.” You say between gasps. “The way we fit together. You were made for me.”

His brow furrows, but his eyes widen in awe. Laios’s hands remain perched on your hips as you ride him. He moves awkwardly to match you, but his thighs and legs betray him when jolts of gratification surge through him. He tries to cough out a response–something, anything–but can only manage a drawn, pitchy whimper. You let your eyes fall closed and set your forehead against his again.

For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment. You and Laios exchange breaths, gasps, and groans as you guide yourself up and down his length, then bottom out once more to grind your clit against his pubes and groin. Laios creates his own cacophony of odd noises that you can assume are due to pleasure, and they send swirls of delight through your brain and down your spine.

Each movement you make makes you crave more. More of him. The way he smells, sounds, feels–its all encompassing. It makes you want to consume all of him, drain him the way he’s drained your thoughts these past months. You could never imagine it’d feel this way. Laios isn’t gifted at sex by any means, but the emotional connection between you two is what heightens the physical aspect. Knowing you’re his first, how much he trusts you, desires you–it makes your mind cloudy. He belongs to you. You have him in the most intimate way possible now. An unforgettable moment for the both of you.

You clench around him and grit your teeth. It’s almost as if you’re telling him this now–he’s yours. The noise he makes when you do that is unnatural. It’s guttural–almost primal. 

“I’m gonna cum!” He chokes out, his body shaking with tension. You immediately stop your movements and relax. Not like this. Not yet, if you can help it.

“Hey, hey, settle.” You coo in his ear, now kissing whatever skin you can reach. “You don’t wanna cum just yet, right? I was hoping to give you the reins.”

Laios’s breathing is rapid, as if he just ran a mile. You coax him out of his stupor, trying to aid him in learning to contain himself. For someone with little experience, he does have a lot of willpower. With a little more time to gain his brain back, he’s able to get halfway cognizant and look at you once more. 

Your hips slide up, ever so slowly, and you let him fall out of you with a wet pop. That would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so incredibly turned on. You hop off him now, then beckon him to climb on top of you. When he does, you anchor your thighs on his hips.

“I figured you’d wanna try your hand at this. Hold yourself up and I’ll give you a hand.” You prop yourself up a bit to look between your legs. Laios grabs his cock, and you help him guide it towards your entrance. “It’s probably gonna slip out if you’re not careful, so keep close to me.”

He nods and slides in without issue. You hum in delight at the feeling of being full again. You let Laios thrust his hips into yours a few times and his hefty balls smack lewdly against your ass as he does. He’s focused, biting his tongue a little as he tries to see which angle and speed gets a proper reaction from you. He’s cute. And the fact he’s thinking of your pleasure on an evening that’s supposed to be about him is endearing as well.

You beckon him forward, then lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the typical missionary position. Laios keeps most of his weight on his forearms as he casually pumps into you. 

“You’re doing a good job.” You gently play with his hair and look lovingly at him. Laios always fills you with the warmest, fuzziest feeling when you look into his eyes. It spills out like water when you have him like this. “You’re perfect. Everything I could want in a man.”

Laios’s brows furrow. You can’t tell if it's in concentration or what. You kiss his forehead softly as his eyes flutter closed.

“You’re everything to me.” He says in a firm voice. His pace begins to pick up, his pelvis starting to dig into yours. “You. I–, I just…can’t believe you’re here with me. You’re so beautiful...”

He’s really picking up the pace now. It makes your grip tighten on his hair. Laios is losing himself in you, and you let him. His length barely leaves you before thrusting right into you again. Sweet words and strangled noises pool in his throat and tumble out with fervor. 

“I love you.” He whines. It’s said with enough devotion to make your heart ache. “I love you…Love you…” He gasps. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He starts to drive into you like a madman now. He has little tact, but you don’t mind. It feels good nonetheless to watch him fall apart before you like this. Feel him lose his composure just from the workings of your body. Your own peak starts to approach on the horizon. 

“I wanna stay with you forever. Wanna be yours.” His balls create a slightly steady beat as they slap against your bottom. The wet, squelching sound of your hole being pounded fills your ears along with Laios’s moans.

“I love you too.” You respond, letting your fingers comb through his sweaty bangs, moving them from his face. Words come easier since you’re still more composed than he is. It’s clear Laios is exceptionally vulnerable at this moment, so you tell him things he probably needs to hear.  “You’re so easy to love, Laios. Just by being you.”

That seems to do something to him. His head falls in the crook of your neck and his arms slide under your shoulders to pull you as close as possible. His entire weight now leaning on you knocks the wind out of you a bit, but you’re able to recover quickly. All you hear is jagged breaths and strangled cries as he pumps into you wildly. A wet warmth starts to gather on your skin. You think its drool. 

A few more desperate thrusts of his hips has him coming undone completely. It’s everything but graceful as Laios reaches his peak. It’s obvious his orgasm tears through him like he’s paper. Not only does he almost completely fill you, but his sounds are grossly guttural, and the way his body tenses like stone and curls into yours before he slumps against you is testament to that. 

You roll with it, though, and simply pet his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him as you do so. He shudders against you, hiccuping softly against your skin. As you bask in the moment, you feel your combined slick start to squeeze out of you a bit. It’s still warm, but it makes you shiver. You stayed hugged against Laios for a while before he finally starts to remove himself from you. 

You’re shocked when you catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are puffy, nose runny. There’s tear stains down his cheeks. He wasn’t drooling. He was crying.

“Hey.” You hold his jaw in your hands, frowning a bit. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. His nerves eat away as him as he sniffles. It’s a little bit of a pathetic sight.

“I-I don’t know. I just…you said all those nice things to me, and I just–” His tears start coming again, and you shoosh him. There’s a lot of hormones floating around. You’re sure that’s making him emotional, granted, on top of all his insecurities surrounding his own self-worth.

“I meant what I said. I love you, sincerely.”

Laios’s breathing starts to even out a bit, but tears still fall. He brings your palm to his mouth, gently kissing it.

“I know. But that’s what makes me feel this way even more. I just…can’t believe you’re with me at times. You’re so wonderful.” He looks at you with such adoration. It’s sickeningly sweet.

“You are too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you could at least begin to understand how I feel about you.”  You continue to wipe his tears with your free hand. Laios shakes his head, almost in disbelief.

“I’ll never understand what makes you want to put up with me. But I'm over the moon that you choose to do so.”

“And I always will. Loving you is effortless. Stop referring to it like it’s a job. ” You casually flick his forehead to lighten the mood. Laios snaps out of his own head and returns to the moment with a soft “ow”, before beginning to laugh.

A laugh escapes you now. You sweetly kiss him on the nose.

“Now, stop crying, dummy.” You tease. “You’re gonna make me cry too,”

Laios chuckles as you wipe his tears. He grasps your wrist, then brings your hand closer for him to kiss.

“I’m the smartest man in the world if I’ve already decided I want to spend my life with you.”

So what he said earlier. He meant that. Laios sees a future with you…You start to feel a little overwhelmed by emotion now, but settle on squishing his face in your hands and pushing him away.

“Dork.” You chuckle. Laios’s laughter fills the room now. There’s so much mirth in the room, before he starts to look contemplative again.

“Wait…did you?” He raises a brow. “I couldn’t tell if you finished.”

Oh. Here comes the awkward truth. You weren’t expecting to get off and you had a lot of fun, but you’re not sure if that’s enough for him.

“I…no.” You answer honestly, but are quick to reassure. “It’s okay, though. Don’t feel pressured. You went through a lot right now, and I still had fun. I’m happy.”

He’s not.

“But I wanted you to…” He pouts. “You deserve it after what you did for me.”

You’re about to reassure him that hey, it’s fine. You could cuddle and just chill out, but you catch his curious gaze trail down to the shiny wetness of your crotch. If he’s willing…

“I mean, if you want…” You look up at him. “Only if you feel like it. I can show you how to get me off again. But in a different way this time.”

His brows raise, eyes shining with interest. He nods, now sitting up on his knees as if awaiting instruction.

You tell him to lie on his back and tell him about your plans. Facesitting is an entirely new thing to him, but he’s totally on board with the idea. He’s practically drooling as you describe it to him. The tension and eagerness builds up with a quickness. You hurry up and get your shins seated on either side of his head, ready to get this show on the road.

“This still alright with you?”

You look down at Laios. He’s staring at your wet, cum soaked pussy like it’s a gourmet meal.

“Fuck yes.”

That’s the first time he’s cursed all night. He must have a thing for oral. You’ll be sure to keep that in mind.

You lower yourself onto him, careful not to put all your weight on him just yet. Laios laps at you excitedly. He’s never been the most refined eater in the first place, and the way he sucks and licks at you is as if all manners flew out the window. Your thighs shiver as you let more weight onto his face. Holy shit. He seems to be a quick learner. That, or his enthusiasm to please shines through when it comes to oral. He’s so voracious it makes your head spin. 

You cry out expletives and start to rock against his face. Laios’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips down onto him. You lean as much weight as he can take. It doesn’t seem like you phase it at all. 

With your slit flush against him, you can feel everything. His tongue dragging across your sensitive skin, diving into your hole as he lets you fuck yourself on it. Warmth builds in your core, making your jaw clench. You alternate between grinding your clit on his nose and letting him suckle at it. It’s phenomenal.

“I’m gonna…” You’re cut off by a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head. “Laios!”

He heeds your warning, now focusing on letting you ride his tongue. You grind your clit against his nose as you finally come undone, that warm familiar feeling spreading from your groin down to your thighs. Your legs clench around his head. The moan that you elicit from his lips while you do that has you shaking. 

When you’re ready, you climb off his face, flopping on the bed beside Laios. The two of you are spent. At least for right now. Laios pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest gently on his chest. As you lie there, the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to drowsiness.

“That was the best moment of my life.” He speaks up. “I just…” Laios laughs at his loss for words. He’s never been good with  them, but even finding one to describe how he feels right now seems like an impossible task. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

“Love you too.” You murmur against his skin. This was a lot, physically and emotionally. But you’re glad you did it.

“I feel like I could lie here forever.” His voice starts to taper off, as if he;s feeling wistful. 

“Mmmmm…” You mumble in agreement. Falling asleep with your face flush against Laios’s boob sounds ideal, before you’re reminded of the cool wetness between your thighs. It was sexy at first, but now it’s starting to grow uncomfortable. “I–We, gotta clean up, though. I feel gross.”

“I kinda like it.” Laios admits. “Being covered in you…us. It’s nice to see our fluids together.” His fingers brush between his own legs, gathering some slick between his fingers. “It’s kinda like slime. Man, I wish I could have those noodles again.”

You furrow your brows in disgust at first, but Laios’s words make you snicker. Of course, he somehow relates this to monsters. Then, to food.

“Well, the faster we get cleaned up, the quicker we can eat.” You begrudgingly stand on shaky legs. Laios is quick to steady you, before standing up himself.

“You’re right. I’ll pay. I owe you one after all this.” He kisses the top of your head. Laios starts to walk away towards the bathroom, but not before you land a decent smack on his ass. The man yelps, before staring at you wide eyed. The handprint that lingers due to how pale his skin is is comical.

“C’mon. You owe me a shower.” You kiss the underside of his jaw, then walk ahead of him.

Laios rolls his eyes and smiles, happily following after you.

[lazywriters-blog]

Aventurine with an innocent darling who's very vulnerable to his schemes and doesn't understand his motives for gifting her a ring, necklaces, expensive perfumes, and dresses that match his preference, finds it hard to believe that he's doing all this for her without a reason.

Doesn't say anything whenever he puts his hand around her waist and drags her along with him anywhere and everywhere he goes, when he leans close she doesn't move back, in a way Aventurine would find her daring and bold, which he would like. A lot.

Seeing as she never declines or rejects him, his advances, his gifts, his messages, their intimacy, and his touch, he considers her his best friend.

Which in time would soften his heart, they would play games that were to her liking (because he would always have her lose to his bets and wagers) but if you look at it from a stranger's point of view, she's playing a dangerous game and she's falling right into his trap, wearing his gifts, following him around, it wouldn't end well.

So of course, someone would eventually warn her and tell her to stay as far away as possible from the IPC executive, which to Aventurine's dismay, works. She's playing distance with him and doesn't laugh or smile as much as she would have before everything she was told messed up her mind, runs home after he keeps insisting that she stay the night and they could have a sleepover, however, they keep drifting apart every time he gets too overbearing.

Everything she does hurts his feelings and drags him further down.

Losing someone who didn't have ulterior motives, who didn't want him to be their friend for his money, influence, his looks, his luck, makes him all the more clingy and desperate.

He wants her back, so the first thing he does is make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut and never thinks about influencing his best friend. Which works, at least for a while.

He's attached to her, he can't consider losing her after everything they've been through, so even if she doesn't realize it, the damage has been done, and she can never look at Aventurine the same. Surely, he will learn about it soon enough.

He could try manipulating her, but what's the use? They've lost their genuine friendship, and it drives him crazy, makes him bitter, and makes him want to do things to whoever dragged his darling away.

He might resort to desperate measures.

So now, he's doing everything he used to do but ten times worse, giving her endless rows of gifts, and spending an unimaginable amount of money on her in hopes they can rekindle their friendship.

But something is still holding her back.

"You should stay the night," he said in his usual light tone, taking a glance to gauge her response. She smiled nervously, and he knew she would decline.

"No, I gotta get home but next time surely," promising him her next time had gotten old, even though she had only stated it twice. He looked away for a moment, trying his best not to squeeze her shoulder.

"You know, you've promised me that twice already and it still hasn't come true."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want to bother you." she looked down.

"I wonder if it is because of those people. You can easily be manipulated, I've already told you that so many times, so why can't you try to form your own opinion?" he didn't say it in a belittling manner, nor was his tone heavy in malice but anyone could tell something was wrong.

Aventurine has never been passive-aggressive, at least not with her.

"That's... Kinda mean." she tried to pull his arm, trying to shrug off his touch but that didn't stop nor discourage him because he just laughed and pulled her back to him.

"I was just kidding! Surely you would have known that by now sweetheart." he also never called her 'sweetheart'.

She looked at him, his wide grin and beautiful eyes peering down at her had always consoled her but now it was telling her to run away.

But with how tight he was holding onto her, she feared it would be impossible to get away now.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi, i'm fourteen and i have this friend who asked me if i wanted to try eating her out. not a girlfriend, a friend. i don't have any feelings for her but i do think she's gorgeous and she's probably the best friend i have and the most mature 14 year old i know. i trust her a lot. im definitely not opposed to trying to give her head, either. i'm just worried it might be a bad idea, and i'm anxious that i won't do it right and she won't even feel good. i definitely don't want to have sex this early but does giving someone else head even count as real sex? she wouldn't really be touching me at all, except for she did say she'd want us to make out before i did it, though i'm not entirely sure why, but i am okay with it. i'm also worried about, like, STDs, because i've never been with another person like... sexually, i've kissed other people but i haven't in a while. but i think she might have done stuff with people? i don't know how recently. like... i don't know, do you think this is a really bad idea and we're too young or is this fine? how do you even eat someone out, like, what do you do? sorry if this is annoying i just really need an adult to ask about this and it's not like i can ask my parents since i'm not really supposed to do this.

hi anon,

thank you for asking! I'm really grateful to be an adult that you trust enough to talk with about stuff like this. it's not annoying, and I'll do the best I can to give a helpful answer based on everything you've told me.

I think maybe, in your case, this might not be a great idea right now. it sounds like there's a lot about this situation that makes you nervous in a way that's not fun - the kind of nerves that come from being excited to connect with a new person are one thing, but I'm hearing much more anxiety than excitement in the way you're talking about this.

oral sex (using your mouth) definitely counts as real sex - it's definitely not just putting a penis in a vagina! - and can be just as intimate and emotionally complicated as any other kind of sexual expression. you said you don't want to be having sex at your age - which is totally normal, and completely your choice to make! - and that includes oral sex as well, so maybe it's best if you sit this one out for the time being.

I want to be super clear that I'm not saying this out of any sense that no people your age should be sexual; I think wanted sexual exploration between young teens can be a great way to start exploring sexuality and finding what feels good! but that doesn't mean that every teenager has to be having sex, or that they're immature if they don't. people are ready to explore sex at lots of different ages (and some people never do at all), and none of them are weird or wrong. you could feel totally different in ten years, one year, a month, or even a week, but right now you don't feel ready, and what you feel right now is what's most important.

holding off until you've had time to learn more about sex may also help, because every situation is less scary when you feel more prepared. (it's why they make you spend so many godforsaken hours practicing driving before you can take the test to get your license.) in the spirit of learning, I want to share some resources about some of the things you had questions/concerns about.

this page on Planned Parenthood's website talks about lots of different kinds of sexually transmitted infections (STIs, also frequently called sexually transmitted diseases, or STDs), including how they're spread and how to treat them. I don't want to make STIs sound scary - I recently wrote a whole post about how they really shouldn't be! - but because it is important to know what risks there are if you plan to be sexually active so that you can do your best to minimize those risks, and what to do if someone does catch an STI. an important thing to remember is that, at your age, it might be difficult for you or your friend to get tested for STIs without help from your parents, which may be awkward and unpleasant or totally impossible if you're unable to tell them why you need a test in the first place. that's an important factor in deciding whether or not to have sex!

additionally, here's some info about dental dams, which are basically condoms for oral sex - they're a flat piece of latex, like a condom that got rolled out, that goes between the mouth and the hole.

and to help with your question about how going down even works, I recommend this video by sexologist Dr. Lindsey Doe. you won't be seeing any real genitals in this video, although there is a drawing and some nude Barbies, and you'll probably want to listen with headphones unless you're alone. there are also links to more of Dr. Doe's videos on the topic.

and lastly, for more thinking about this topic, I want to direct you to Scarleteen's answer to help figure out when you're ready to start having sex, which is very good on its own and has links to some other good reading on the topic. Scarleteen is a great resource specifically designed and run to help answer teenagers' questions about sex without judgment, and I recommend them very heavily.

I hope that this has been useful, and helps you feel empowered to make whatever decision is best for you.

[thirstywoso]

Colour outside the lines //

Jessie Fleming x Reader

W/C: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: little angst and a little fluff

Edit: I wrote this in less than 2 hours whilst I was bored at work and I'm not sure I like it but let's gooo

You'd have thought working with Jessie would be fun but sometimes her competitive edge and your stubbornness wouldn't always be as beneficial as it usually was. That was the case this week, training was something you had always enjoyed but lately yourself and Jessie were pushing each other to one another's limits. Sure in the long run this would be good for your fitness and stamina, that being said you were run ragged most days.

Today though you were wrecked, it started in the morning when you had arrived at training. Sitting down on the bench in front of your cubby you were talking to Sam about the session you had coming up.

"Y/n if you're going to be fighting for dominance with Jessie again today I won't be partnering with you" she mocked pretending to roll her eyes

You playfully swatted her on the arm. "You wouldn't ever dream of leaving me partnerless Coffey" you put your hand on your chest as if you were offended.

"Just because I love you doesn't mean I can keep up with this weird competitive thing you've got on with Miss Freckles over there"

You laughed at her comment before glancing over at the mentioned woman who sat opposite you in the changing room, she caught your eye and gave you a determined look. "Shit" you thought to yourself knowing today was going to be another tough one.

"Earth to y/n, where'd you just go?"

You looked back at her with a blank expression wondering how long you'd zoned out for.

"Look I'll partner with you always but please don't drag me into it, I've been asleep by 9 after I train with you" she said putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you from wondering into your own world again.

"I can't promise anything.."

By lunch time Sam had indeed regretted partnering up with you.

The morning entailed parters competing in various challenges that would be ranked based on a combined score.

The first challenge was the vertical jump, where each team had to go twice and their best score would be counted.

Sam and yourself just beating Jessie and Janine by 1 point which of course Jessie claimed that you had cheated and wanted a rematch but the coaches confirmed the scores were final.

Next you had an endurance test, where the first person in the pair would run from one end of the pitch and back and then the second one would go and so on. The teams that lasted the longest would gain the most points.

Jessie and Janine had won that to your dismay with you only dropping out a lap before them.

The morning continued on like that where you would win a challenge and then Jessie would win a challenge. When lunch time rolled around you had reached a deadlock.

"Are you not sick of these two bickering over who is better everyday?" Janine asked Sam as they joined yourself and Jessie at the lunch table.

"Who isn't?" Sam Laughed

"Sorry that we like to keep our relationship alive with some healthy competition" Jessie defended

"Babe you must admit we have been going a bit crazy with this lately"

"Y/n's right Jessie, y'all have been killing us and everyone else has been saying it's been getting out of control" Sam tried to reason

"Yeah we understand the competitive side you both have but bickering every time you don't win is getting old even y/n is sick of it" Janine aimed at Jessie

Jessie looked over to you catching your eye, you just held your hands up surrendering

"You think it's getting tiring too?" She said looking disappointed

You didn't answer straight away as you didn't want to upset Jessie and as much as you loved her playful side you were starting to come home drained each day to the point you'd sometimes fall asleep whilst eating dinner that Jessie had cooked you.

Jessie stood up heading for the door back towards the training facilities "Jess, come on don't be like that" you called after her but it was no use.

"Thanks guys" you said sarcastically as you got up in the direction of Jessie.

The rest of training Jessie had avoided you not even acknowledging you when you tried to talk to her. You'd planned on breaking your deadlock during this part of the afternoon but you could tell it wasn't a good idea with the scowl she had painted on her face.

Even the ride home from training was quiet and you knew even if you attempted to talk to her it would be futile.

Getting in through the door Jessie made her way to your bedroom and shut the door behind her, you leant against the cool granite of the kitchen island and released a sigh you hadn't realised you'd be holding in.

Closing your eyes you let yourself think about what the hell had happened today. You decided the best way to get on Jessie's good side would be to cook her favourite meal of yours.

You began cooking your famous chicken pesto pasta and set up the table with some candles. Admiring the set up you realised something was missing so you walked down to the local store and bought some of your girlfriends favourite flowers and grabbed her a coffee from her favourite coffee shop.

When you returned you lit the candles and arranged the flowers heating the meal you had made. Once you'd served it up you put on some music and lightly knocked on your bedroom door before entering.

Seeing Jessie laying there staring at the ceiling in thought

"Hey.." you said nervously

She didn't answer

"Look, I know you're upset but there's some food out here for you and if you're up for it I would like to talk about what happened today"

You closed the door and went and sat at the table, just as you were about to start you heard the door click open and Jessie's feet padding softly towards you.

"Jess, I know you're upset because I hadn't said anything"

"Why didn't you tell me y/n/n?"

"I just, I love you Jess and your quirky competitive side. In fact I've really enjoyed training lately but this past week you've just been putting me to shame and keeping up with you has been an effort and I'm just finding myself so lethargic I can't even enjoy our quiet time together" you rambled out explaining before she could say anything.

Jessie grabbed your hand across the table "I'm sorry, I thought you enjoyed that about me and I didn't want to disappoint you by stopping our fun routine we have going on"

You rubbed your thumb over her hand comfortingly prompting her to carry on.

"I wish you'd have said something, I was just upset that I had to hear from our friends how you were feeling." She paused "I guess I'm saying that it hurt you felt you could go to them before you could go to me"

"Jessie, I promise it wasn't like that. Sam had complained I was working her too hard and I simply agreed that I was tired too"

"I understand, I just hope this means we are okay. I certainly think it'll do us both some good if we get a break from this healthy competition that has slowly become unhealthy" Jessie reasoned

"I agree"

You are the rest of you meal just casually chatting about other things going on in your life. After you finished Jessie washed the dishes and you dried them packing them away.

"How about we go cuddle up and watch a movie?" Jessie held out an olive branch

"How could I refuse" you smile

-

You'd both changed into some shorts and T-shirts you in her UCLA shirt and her in your old National team jersey.

Cuddling up to Jessie under the blanket you closed your eyes as she gently stroked your arm. Her fingers gently tracing the tattoos that ran from your shoulder to your wrist.

You hummed in contentment as she continued

"You know I've always wondered what these would look like in colour" Jessie said mindlessly

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah"

"Colour them in if you like?"

"Can I?"

You stood up grabbing a pack of colouring pens from a draw and returned handing them to Jessie

"Go ahead!"

You then sat there as Jessie began to colour in the flowers you had on your arm, taking care that she didn't colour outside the lines.

You're not sure how long you sat there for watching as Jessie meticulously coloured each piece of skin. Relaxing into the feeling the next thing you know you woke up. Jessie still tracing the shapes on your body only now you were fully in colour, and a suspicious addition where you arm and wrist connect. As you pulled your arm closer to inspect you realised that she had written her name on you.

You smiled to yourself and looked at her, a guilty smirk evident on her face.

"You really do bring colour to my life" looking back at your arm "literally"

"I love you more than anything" Jessie said sincerely

"I, I don't think I could ever express how big my feelings are for you" you thought for a second "I could genuinely burst when I look at you, my heart combusts just trying to put it into words"

"Ew gross, but you too" Jessie fake gagged at your sentiment.

This earned a shove from you which had Jessie landing on the floor in a pile of blankets looking up at you bemused.

[thestrongestkikufuku]

a business proposal, p. 3

» part one, part two, part four, part five, part six - ⟡⋆˙

» contents - ⟡⋆˙ fluff, crack, au, satoru gojo x f!reader, ceo!gojo, reader works in the same company, made up character 'rin' as your bestie, suguru geto as the secretary, gojo being persistent and a lil shit, curse word, chaos

» word count - ⟡⋆˙ 5.5k

» notes - ⟡⋆˙ hi hi dear readers!! welcome to part 3 of the business proposal inspired fic! this one is a longer one, i kinda got possessed while writing this, lol, i haven't slept at all and it's almost 7 am >.< i've had some challenges on what to take from the show without making this too long because i really want to get started on the whole "fake dating" process, while also slowly building up the relationship. but in the next part we will uncover and explore more of the relationship so stay tuned!! :D anyways, happy reading and if you want to be added in the taglist for upcoming parts please let me know!! :D<3

» m.list - ⟡⋆˙

The next morning, Rin dragged you out of bed early with a wide smile on her face. “Come on, we’re going shopping!” she announced, practically bouncing with excitement.

You were initially confused but quickly became caught up in Rin’s infectious energy. She took you to all the high-end boutiques, insisting on buying you the most exquisite clothes. You protested, but Rin waved away your objections with a grin. “Consider it my treat! You deserve to be spoiled.”

By the time you both arrived at a charming little café, your makeup has been done, and you were wearing a stunning new outfit, complete with elegant accessories. “Rin, this is amazing,” you said, beaming at her. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Rin laughed nervously. “Heh, well I did say I owed you for when you stepped up, right?” she replied sheepishly, her eyes darting around the café. “Now, let’s sit and have some coffee.”

You chatted happily, sipping your drinks and enjoying the cozy atmosphere. It wasn’t until Rin glanced at her watch and her expression tightened that you felt a sense of unease.

“[name], listen carefully.. There’s something I need to tell you,” Rin said, her voice suddenly serious. “Satoru Gojo will be here soon.”

You spat out your drink as panic surged through you. “HUH?! SATORU GOJO?! WHAT—”

Rin nodded, looking equally panicked now that she’d said it out loud. “I didn’t have a choice! He realized that we were friends and asked to meet you.”

“Then you should’ve pretended not to know me!” You exclaimed, your heart racing.

“I tried! But then he said he’d find out on his own! God, [name], he’s so scary! What if he discovers you’re his employee!?” Rin's voice was rising, her eyes wide with anxiety.

You both sat there in a shared moment of panic, glancing around the café as if expecting Gojo to walk in any second. 

“You could’ve at least warned me!” You exclaimed suddenly, your mind spinning with the sudden pressure, a mix of fear and frustration bubbling up inside you.

“Then you wouldn’t have come here!” Rin countered, her voice tinged with desperation, “but that doesn’t matter now, he thinks you owe him an apology.” She bit her lip, clearly regretting her decision to drag you into this.

“W-what?”

“Just say you're sorry! Nothing could go wrong, right?” Rin offered you a forced smile, meant to reassure you, though it only fueled your panic. Her attempt at comfort was painfully unconvincing, and you could see her own fear mirrored in her eyes. “Anyway, I’ll be going now.”

“You’re leaving?!” Your voice rose in disbelief.

Rin hummed as she rushed to gather her things then handed you a big paper bag, “don’t forget to wear the wig.”

“Wha—”

“I’m so sorry.” Rin shot you an apologetic smile before running off, leaving you alone to face the impending storm.

“Wait! RIN!” you called out after your friend, but she was already gone. “Shit—” 

You fumbled with the bag Rin left, searching frantically for the wig she mentioned. You found it nestled among the clothes she bought you, hurriedly pulling it out and attempting to adjust it over your hair, praying you'd be ready before Gojo walked through the door.

Your hands trembled as you struggled to fit the wig over your hair. “Come on, come on,” you muttered under your breath. 

The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, each tick echoing loudly in your ears. You stole quick glances at the entrance, half-expecting to see Gojo's distinctive figure appear at any moment. The café seemed to shrink around you, the cozy atmosphere now suffocating with the impending arrival of Satoru Gojo. Every passing second felt like an eternity, your heart pounding in your chest as you imagined the scenarios that could unfold if he saw you right now.

Finally, with a shaky sigh of relief, you managed to secure the wig in place, patting down the stray strands, hoping it looked convincing enough. 

The café seemed quieter now, the soft hum of people’s conversations around you contrasting sharply with the rapid beating of your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you mentally rehearsed what you might say to Gojo if and when he arrived. Apologize? For what exactly? Rin’s vague explanation had left you more confused than reassured.

Just then, the door to the café swung open, and in walked a figure that made your breath catch in your throat. It was him—Satoru Gojo, unmistakable with his white hair and striking blue eyes.

He scanned the room casually at first, his gaze drifting past you without a flicker of recognition. But then his eyes doubled back, focusing directly on your table, slowly approaching to take a seat in front of you.

You sat there in tense silence, acutely aware of Satoru Gojo’s presence across from you. His gaze was inscrutable, his expression calm yet somehow piercing. Panic churned in your stomach as you wondered what he was thinking, what he might do next.

After what felt like an eternity, Gojo broke the silence. “So, how much did Miss Takahashi pay you to impersonate her?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question. You hadn’t anticipated this direct approach. Frantically, you searched for words, trying to gather your thoughts amid the rush of adrenaline.

“I-I…” you stammered, your mind racing. “I didn’t want to do it at first, but she offered me 90,000 yen,” you blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Gojo arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “90,000 yen, huh?” he mused, leaning back slightly in his chair. “You tried to scam me for merely 90,000 yen?”

“Going as a replacement isn’t technically a scam, now is it?” You nervously attempted to defend yourself, the words stumbling out amidst the tumult of guilt and panic.

Gojo's gaze hardened slightly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as he regarded you thoughtfully. The weight of his scrutiny made your throat tighten, regret seeping into your every nerve.

“You pretended to be another person,” Gojo began, his voice cutting through the air with a sharp edge of disappointment. “You deliberately wasted someone’s precious time for your own benefit. If that’s not a scam, then what is it?”

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, the words heavy with guilt and sincerity. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just... I needed the money, and Rin... I-I wish I could make it up to you, but there’s not much I can do..” 

There was a long moment of silence before you gathered the courage to speak again.

“But,” you continued, your voice wavering slightly, “if there's ever anything I can do, please let me know, and I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to help you out.” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Gojo stared at you with a penetrating gaze, his expression unreadable. The weight of his scrutiny made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of what to expect next. 

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, you ventured cautiously, “Are you... Still mad at me?”

“In what way do I look like an archaeopteryx?” Gojo questioned suddenly, a serious expression settling over his features.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked in confusion. “Uh... what?” you asked, baffled by the sudden shift from serious to whimsical. “I.. Is that why you’re angry?”

“It is not why I’m angry,” Gojo replied firmly, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back slightly in his chair with a small huff. “It's just that I've never heard such nonsense before. So I was caught off guard, yes.”

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, that? I.. I just said whatever popped into my head because I wanted you to stop asking me to marry you.”

“Whatever popped into your head?” Gojo echoed, the seriousness of his expression unwavering.

“Look, I got nervous okay? I-I just really tried to play my part, I really didn’t mean anything by it.” you stammered, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I-If there's nothing else you want to talk about, we can just wrap this up and forget that all of this has happened.” You suggested tentatively, hoping to diffuse the awkward tension.

But before you could move to gather your things, Gojo’s voice cut through the air, unexpectedly serious. “Wait,” he said, raising his hand slightly, “let me see your phone.”

Confused, you hesitantly handed him the device, watching as he quickly tapped on the screen. 

“Really? ‘Don’t Answer’?” Gojo asked with a brow raised, turning the screen towards you to reveal his contact name. “You should save my name instead, and from now on you have to pick up my calls, no matter what.”

“But—”

“If you don’t answer or try to disappear, I’ll come find you.” He said, suddenly holding up a small, quaintly designed business card that read 'Sweet Delights Bakery' in playful, elegant script, adorned with a whimsical illustration of a cupcake.

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight you couldn’t ignore. The seriousness in his tone left no room for doubt—he meant what he said.

“I-I... How did you...?” you stammered, feeling exposed and caught off guard.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You dropped it earlier,” he replied casually, as if revealing an obvious fact. “So you own a bakery?”

You sighed heavily, “not me, it’s a family business.. My father owns it.”

“How intriguing. Perhaps I’ll drop by sometime to see your handiwork.” He mused, giving you a cheeky smile.

Your throat tightened as you processed his words, slowly taking your phone back. 

“Okay.” You mustered out weakly, your fingers trembling as you hastily typed ‘Archaeopteryx’ as his contact name.

“Also, what’s your real name?”

“Oh, it’s—” You hesitated, a knot forming in your stomach. You knew you couldn't reveal your real name, not when you worked for him, that could mean trouble if he finds out about it. “Um... my name... it’s...” You faltered, searching for an excuse. “It’s Mei.”

“Mei?” Gojo repeated, his eyebrow quirking up in curiosity.

“Yes.. Mei,” you confirmed, trying to sound convincing. “Just... call me Mei.”

Gojo studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating. “Alright then, Miss Mei,” he said finally, his tone unreadable. 

Relief flooded through you as Gojo entered the fake name into his phone. You thanked whatever luck you had that he didn’t press further. 

—

That same night, exhaustion finally overcame you, the events of the day had left you emotionally drained, and you eagerly welcomed the respite of slumber with open arms. However, the peace was short-lived.

A sudden ringing shattered the silence, jerking you awake. Disoriented and groggy, it took a few moments to register the persistent sound of your phone vibrating on the nightstand. With a sigh, you fumbled for it, quickly pressing the button to answer the call.

“Hello?” you managed to croak out, your voice thick with sleep.

“Ah, Miss Mei, you're awake.”

Confusion swept over you. “Hm, what? Who’s prank calling me—”

“This is not a prank call, Miss Mei. Are you.. Are you half asleep?” His voice held a hint of amusement.

“I’m not Mei—” squinting at the bright screen in the darkness, you see the contact name, ‘Archaeopteryx’. You jolt up on your bed, running your fingers through your hair in frustration, “—a-ah, sorry! You just surprised me, that’s all.. Um.. Why did you call?”

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get a new number to cut me off, that's all,” he said casually, his tone bearing no hint of remorse for the disruption he had caused. “Goodnight.”

“Wha—”

Before you could formulate a coherent response, the line went dead. Staring at your phone in disbelief, frustration bubbled up within you. It was late, you were wide awake now, and there seemed to be no reason for Gojo's late-night call other than to unsettle you further.

Tossing your phone back onto the nightstand, you buried your face in your hands, feeling a mix of irritation and helplessness. 

“He’s crazy, he’s actually crazy.” You muttered under your breath, glancing at the clock. Your eyes widened upon seeing the time—4 a.m.

“UGH, this guy is so annoying!”

—

“Do you think there’s anyone else who goes on ten blind dates a day?” Gojo’s voice broke the silence, glancing at his friend.

“No.” Geto answered bluntly, a playful smile forming on his lips, “and I can assure you that you’ll set a new record for the most blind dates in the shortest amount of time.”

Gojo snorted, rolling his eyes at Geto’s remark. “I just don’t get it,” he began, his brows furrowing slightly. His relaxed and playful expression slowly morphed into a serious one. “These girls.. They’re all beautiful. But every conversation feels rehearsed, as if they’re all saying what they think I want to hear, it’s creepy.”

“It’s most likely because they want to impress you, Satoru.” Geto countered calmly, offering him a reassuring smile, “but I don’t doubt that you will find someone eventually. Besides, they seemed a little better than the fake ‘Rin Takahashi’.”

“Well, at least the fake ‘Rin Takahashi’ wasn’t boring.” Gojo retorted, sighing heavily as he threaded his fingers through his white locks. “There’s just... Something about her..”

Geto hummed softly, nodding thoughtfully as he considered Gojo’s words. “So what will you do?”

—

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, you found yourself immersed in the usual rhythm of work. The hum of conversations and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards provided a comforting backdrop, a return to normalcy after the whirlwind of emotions stirred up by the intense situation involving Satoru Gojo.

Just as you were engrossed in a particularly challenging task, your phone buzzed insistently on the desk. Glancing at the screen, your heart skipped a beat when you saw ‘Archaeopteryx’ flashing brightly. Dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as you answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising panic.

“Hello?” you ventured cautiously.

“Hello, Miss Mei,” came Gojo's voice, cool and composed. “I was thinking we should meet up to talk.”

Your mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic whirl. Why did he want to meet? What does he want to talk about? You struggled to find words, your throat dry as you searched for a response.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you managed finally, attempting to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside. “When?”

“How about tonight?” Gojo suggested casually. “I know a quiet spot not far from your place.”

“Tonight?” you echoed, anxiety tightening its grip on you. “I-I'm not sure if—”

“It’ll be quick,” Gojo interrupted smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Just a chat.”

“I-I’ll be working late, I’m helping my father close today.” Trying your best to steer him away from the idea.

Gojo’s voice remained calm and determined. “No worries. I’ll wait for you. See you then.”

Before you could protest further or ask for more details, he ended the call abruptly. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you reeling with uncertainty. The clock on your desk seemed to tick louder, each passing second heightening your nerves.

Fighting to steady your trembling hands, you took a deep breath, attempting to focus on your work. But Gojo’s unexpected request echoed in your mind, stirring a whirlwind of questions and apprehensions. What did he want to discuss?

—

Later that evening, you found yourself helping your father close up the bakery. The warm scent of freshly baked bread still lingered in the air, mixing with the soft hum of the ovens cooling down. Despite the familiar surroundings, a knot of anxiety tightened in your chest.

As you wiped down the counters, a sense of dread crept in, intensifying with each passing minute. Thoughts of your impending meeting with Gojo gnawed at your mind like an insistent itch. What did he want to discuss? And why was it so urgent that he requested a late-night meeting? Uncertainty burdened your shoulders, diverting your attention from the usual tasks at hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” your father's voice interrupted your thoughts gently. He glanced at you with concern, his eyes catching the weariness in yours. “I’ll be heading upstairs now. Is that alright?”

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Oh, yeah sure. You go ahead.”

His brow furrowed slightly, sensing there was more beneath the surface. “You sure?” he pressed gently, crossing his arms on his chest. “You seem a little.. Distracted? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” you assured him, avoiding his gaze as guilt pricked at your conscience. How could you explain the mess you'd unwillingly gotten yourself into? “I just... Have some things to sort out with work. It’ll be fine.”

Your father studied you for a moment longer, his expression softening slightly, “alright, if you say so,” he relented, sensing your reluctance to share more. “Just take care of yourself, okay? And call if you need anything.”

“I will,” you promised, forcing another smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

As you watched him leave, a sense of apprehension settling in your chest. You immediately gather your things as you hurried to the small employee restroom tucked away in the corner of the building. You hastily pulled out the wig stashed in your bag and swiftly put it on, adjusting the unruly strands until they framed your face nicely. A quick touch-up of makeup followed, just enough to subtly alter your features, transforming you into the fabricated “Mei”. It was a disguise borne out of necessity, a guise to navigate the unforeseen entanglement Gojo had dragged you into. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you glanced at your reflection in the dimly lit mirror, reassuring yourself that you looked different enough to pass unnoticed.

Stepping back into the bakery’s main area, you locked the door behind you and ventured into the cool night air. The street lamps cast long shadows as you made your way to the agreed-upon meeting spot, a quiet café not far from your workplace. Each step felt heavier than the last as you trudged towards the building. The café was nearly empty when you arrived, only a few lingering customers left, sipping their drinks. Spotting Gojo at a secluded table near the window, you approached cautiously, the click of your heels against the tiled floor barely audible in the hushed atmosphere.

He looked up as you approached, his gaze lingering on you for a brief moment before a faint smile touched his lips. 

“Hello, Miss Mei.” Gojo greeted smoothly, gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him. “You look different tonight.” he remarked casually, sipping from his cup of tea. His eyes, however, bore into yours with an intensity that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“It’s been a long day,” you deflected, forcing a smile that felt stiff on your lips. “So, um, what did you want to talk about?”

Gojo set his cup down, his expression growing serious once more. “This isn’t really a place to say such things but,” he began as he leaned closer, “I want us to start dating. With marriage in mind.”

“What?” Your eyes widened at his sudden request, shock evident in your voice. “Dating? Marriage?”

Gojo leaned back, observing your reaction with a calm demeanor. “I know it sounds sudden, but hear me out. My grandfather has been pressuring me to find a wife. And he's been... Relentless, and frankly, it’s driving me insane. He has set up countless blind dates, all of which have been less than ideal. All I want for you is to pretend that you’re in a relationship with me, just to calm him down a little.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “You want to fake date me to get your grandfather off your back?”

He nodded, his expression sincere. “Exactly. And you wouldn’t even have to do much—just attend a few family gatherings, maybe a couple of events. It would give me some breathing room and hopefully that’ll convince him.”

“I..” you stare at him for a moment, disbelief spreading across your features as you shake your head, “no.. No way! I won’t.”

Gojo’s eyebrow quirked up at your outburst, “why not?”

“Why— you have been calling me a fraud— a-an imposter! And now you want me to do it all over again?!”

“Well, I figured you’d be the best person for the job.” Gojo shrugged casually, taking another sip of his tea.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re good at pretending to be someone else,” he replied nonchalantly. “You managed to fool me, didn’t you? Besides, you already know how to handle difficult situations. This will be a walk in the park compared to what you’ve already been through.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you. “You think this is some kind of game? This isn’t just about fooling your family. It’s my life too.”

Gojo’s expression softened slightly. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think you could handle it. Look, you wanted to repay your debt, right? Not to mention all the precious time I’ll save. It’s a win-win situation, is it not?”

You bit your lip, feeling cornered. “It’s not that simple, you know? Pretending to be someone I’m not, pretending to be in a relationship… It's exhausting and emotionally taxing.”

“I get that,” he said, his voice sincere. “And I’m willing to make it worth your while. Whatever you need, I can help with. Financially, professionally, you name it. Just think about it. Whatever Miss Takahashi offered you, I'll double it.”

You sighed, the weight of his offer pressing down on you. The logical part of you recognized the potential benefits—paying off debts, helping your father out, gaining influential connections. But the emotional part of you recoiled at the idea of diving deeper into this charade.

“I-I’ll think about it.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and you could feel Gojo’s gaze on you, waiting for more. But instead of elaborating, you found yourself standing abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gojo,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you bowed at him. “But I have to head home now.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Gojo sitting alone at the table. You could feel his eyes on you as you exited the café, but you didn’t look back. 

—

The soft glow of your desk lamp illuminated the paperwork strewn across your desk as you worked on a project that was due the next morning. Your eyes felt heavy with fatigue, and you longed for the comfort of your bed. The clock on your wall ticked away, reminding you just how late it had become. With a sigh, you decided to wrap up for the night, stacking your papers neatly and turning off your computer.

Just as you were about to head to bed, your phone buzzed on the desk. The sudden noise startled you, and you glanced at the screen to see ‘Archaeopteryx’ flashing brightly. Your heart sank, a mixture of dread and annoyance bubbling up inside you. Why was Gojo calling you so late?

Reluctantly, you answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Mei,” Gojo’s voice was as smooth as ever, but there was an underlying urgency that made you uneasy. “I’m outside your house.”

Panic gripped you instantly, suddenly feeling more awake. Oh, god why now? You weren't even in your disguise; you were just yourself, in your pajamas, your face completely bare.

“W-what? Why are you here?” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“It’s been a few days since our last encounter, and I needed to talk to you,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to show up unannounced. “Can you come meet me outside?”

You glanced around your apartment, your mind racing. “Um, I... I’m not really... prepared for visitors,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“I won’t take long,” he insisted. “Just a quick chat.”

You hesitated, weighing your options. The last thing you wanted was for Gojo to see you like this, without the wig and makeup that turned you into “Mei”. But you knew he wouldn't leave easily. Taking a deep breath, you decided to face him.

“Okay, okay, just— give me a minute,” you said, trying to keep the anxiety out of your voice. You ended the call and quickly looked around your apartment for anything that might help.

There was no time to put on the full disguise, but you grabbed a nearby hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, hoping that it would be enough to obscure your features. With a final deep breath, you headed towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you exited your apartment complex, your eyes caught sight of Gojo’s car parked under a streetlamp, his figure leaning casually against the hood.

Gojo looked up as you approached, his eyes immediately narrowing at your makeshift disguise. “Interesting choice of attire,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” you retorted, pulling the hood tighter around your face. “What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait until morning?”

Without a word, Gojo reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a neatly folded document. He handed it to you, his expression serious. “This is a draft of the contract for our arrangement. I had it drawn up to outline the terms clearly.”

You unfolded the document, your eyes scanning the formal language and detailed clauses. It was all there in black and white: the terms of your fake relationship, the things you had to do, the financial compensation. Everything was meticulously planned out.

You looked up at Gojo, disbelief and frustration now evident on your face. “You seriously expect me to agree to this?” you asked, your voice rising. “No. No way—”

“When you were apologizing to me the first time, you said you’d help with whatever I needed. Or was that all an empty promise?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, quickly silencing you. You remembered that moment vividly, the desperation in your voice as you tried to make amends for your deception. 

“That was different,” you countered, shaking your head. “I didn’t know you were going to ask me to lie to your family.”

“Is it really that different?” Gojo asked, his tone calm but insistent. “You wanted to make things right, to repay a debt. This is your chance. And it’s not like you’ll be doing it for free. The compensation is generous.”

“No!” You countered stubbornly, your voice firm and resolute. “Find another woman.” 

With that, you turn on your heel, ready to march back to your apartment. But before you could take another stride, Gojo moved swiftly. His hand shot out, gripping your arm gently but firmly, halting your retreat as he turned you around

“Let go,” you demanded, trying to pull your arm free, but Gojo's grip didn’t waver.

“Please, just listen to me,” he implored, his voice low and urgent. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t truly need your help.”

“Mr. Gojo, I can’t,” you asserted firmly, meeting his eyes with a mixture of resolve and apprehension. “I have my reasons.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “And what are those reasons?”

Your mind raced as you stood silently in front of him, Gojo's intense gaze fixed on you. His question hung in the air, demanding an answer you couldn’t easily give. You couldn’t reveal the true reason—the fear of him possibly finding out about your true identity, which could jeopardize your entire career. And as the CEO of the company where you worked at, Gojo held a significant sway over your professional future. The mere thought of it sent chills down your spine.

“I—”

Your words come to a stop, your heart pounding in your chest as you see a figure approaching from behind him. Dread washed over you as you recognized your father, returning from his late-night snack run. Panic surged through you, a rush of adrenaline urging you to act swiftly. Without thinking, you quickly pushed Satoru Gojo behind the dumpster with more force than you intended, but Gojo’s swift reflexes pulled you down with him, and you landed awkwardly on top of him.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around you blurred into insignificance. Gojo's expression was a mixture of surprise and amusement, his lips quirking into a half-smile despite the awkwardness of the situation. His hands instinctively held onto you, one arm around your waist and the other supporting your back, his breath warm against your cheek.

As your father entered the building, oblivious to the unfolding scene, you scrambled to your feet, hastily brushing off your clothes in an attempt to compose yourself. The urgency to maintain appearances clashed with the lingering closeness you felt with Gojo, leaving you flustered and uncertain of how to proceed.

“S-sorry,” you stammered nervously, extending your hand to help Gojo up from the ground. His half-smile remained, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he accepted your gesture, grasping your hand firmly.

“Thanks.” Gojo murmured as he started to pull himself up.

But just as he rose to his feet, his expression suddenly shifted, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. Before you could react, Gojo swayed unsteadily, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, panic seizing your heart as you knelt beside him. His body lay limp on the ground, unconscious and eerily still. Fear gripped you as you checked for any signs of injury, your fingers trembling as you brushed his hair back from his forehead. Did he hit his head too hard? Is he...?

Panic washed through you as gently shake his shoulder. “Gojo? Gojo, wake up.”

But there was no response from him, his eyelids remained shut.

“Shit!”

—

The memory of Gojo collapsing haunted you, the image replaying in your mind. Though he appeared remarkably well now, considering the events of last night. But you couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at your insides as you sat across from him in the small meeting room. You both had agreed to meet to discuss the contract for the fake arrangement—something you had been adamant about not signing.

As you read through the document again, your brow furrowed with determination. “This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, scanning the clauses once more.

With a sigh, Gojo leaned back in his chair, his expression turning serious. “You know, I was supposed to sign a crucial contract this morning. But thanks to yesterday's little incident,” he paused, rubbing his temples as if in discomfort, “I had to clear my entire schedule for the day. Missed that meeting, lost that contract.”

Your heart sank at his words, guilt and frustration knotting in your stomach. “I-I’m really sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

“Yeah, well, here we are,” he replied curtly, his tone sharp with irritation. But then, a glint of mischief flickered in his eyes, a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “But.. If you just accept my offer, I won’t sue for the damages. And I’ll still pay you what I promised.”

His casual threat hit you like a punch to the gut. The implication hung heavily in the air, undeniable and unsettling. You glanced down at the contract, the words swimming before your eyes. This wasn’t just about signing a piece of paper anymore; it was about conceding to his terms under pressure.

“Mr. Geto,” Gojo began, his voice firm and sharp, “contact the legal and tell them to proceed with the lawsuit right away—”

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll sign it!” You interrupted, your voice edged with frustration and resignation.

Gojo’s smile widened into a satisfied grin as he leaned forward to give you the pen. “Good choice.”

As you reluctantly added your signature to the contract, a sense of defeat settled over you. The ink dried with finality, sealing the agreement that bound you to Gojo in ways you never imagined. The weight of his expectations and the consequences of your actions bore down on you heavily.

After Gojo gathered the signed document and tucked it away with a sense of finality. “Well, that settles it then.” he said as he stood up, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully, “I’ll call you later to schedule another meeting with you soon. There's a lot of things we need to go through and talk about.”

You nodded weakly in acknowledgment, still processing the whirlwind of emotions and decisions made in such a short time.

With that, Gojo turned towards the door and left the office without looking back. The quiet click of the door closing echoed in the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the signed contract that now bound you to an uncertain future.

The feeling of regret settled in as you stared at the empty chair where Gojo had been just moments before. 

“Oh god, what have I done?”

» taglist - ⟡⋆˙ @megumisthirdog, @inluvkai, @ieathairs, @roscpctals99, @laviefantasie, @snwvie, @sanriosatoru, @reagan707, @keaugh, @cc1306, @shadowheads-shitshow, @pinkprincessglitterzombie

[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL

paring: leehan x fem reader, ft. taesan genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k summary: finally confessing your feelings to leehan leads to a reaction you could have never prepared for. warnings: unwanted sexual advances (NOT from leehan), explicit [consensual] sex scenes, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ppl) read on ao3 if you please by clicking HERE.

“Jaehyun, you have a lot of friends, right?” asks Leehan when he and his roommate are relaxing in their shared living room, doing homework. “Do you know anyone who works in the tutoring office? Blonde streak of hair?”

It’s the only attributes he can remember about the guy he saw you entering your room with only a few days ago, noticing the blue tutoring office logo on the chest of his polo shirt and the distinctive stripe of color in the middle his head. 

“Oh yeah, I think you’re talking about Taesan,” says Jaehyun, who luckily isn’t paying attention enough to his roommate to notice how he perks up at just the name. “Why?”

Even Leehan himself isn’t exactly sure why he cares so much. 

It’s hypocritical at best and gross at worst to think that you have any less of a right to screw around than he does. 

But whether it's his innate territoriality coming into play or the fact that he’s upset it wasn’t him at your side instead, he can’t help but see you differently after what he saw.

“I saw him with some girl I was fucking. Sexual partners are like cars – You don’t want one everyone gets to use, you know?”

Jaehyun, who had up until this point been lying on the floor and playing idly with his Nintendo switch, sits up to look at Leehan. “You’re not talking about Y/N, are you?”

The first thought that comes to a surprised Leehan’s mind is what he said to have tipped Jaehyun off. Failing to think of any divertive lie, he decides there’s no harm in Jaehyun knowing, only wondering, “How’d you find out?”

“I saw her going into your room the night of my Halloween party,”  he explains reasonably, before his voice and facial expression turn suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s going through a lot right now. She just failed all of her midterms and she might get kicked out of school.”

“Wait, really?” asks Leehan, who is hit with a sudden pang of deja vu as if he’s heard this before but doesn’t remember from where. 

And then, it’s with a sudden and strong surge of embarrassment that he remembers the moment when he was feeling horny and decided to send you a dick pic, pressing the little blue arrow after only briefly glancing at the above messages.

“Oh shit. I think she told me that.”

Jaehyun laughs jeeringly, the resentful sound of which brings Leehan out of his own spiraling thoughts. “You’re an asshole, man,” he asserts, saying it in a way that’s so casual it’s as if it’s just a known fact. 

Not an insult or a compliment, but simply a thing that’s true. 

And somehow, the neutrality of it hurts worse. 

“No offense, but I totally hope she forgets she ever met you.”

Hit by the irony of such cruel words being preceded by no offense, Leehan becomes sarcastic to avoid having to express the true hurt of being told that. “None taken. That seriously wasn’t offensive at all, Jaehyun.”

Maybe Jaehyun is right. After working so hard to emphasize the line between being fuckbuddies and being in a relationship, yet still finding himself acting the exact way he feared you would, isn’t asshole the only way to truly express how shitty he’s being about this? 

It’s at that moment that Leehan considers that perhaps this relationship between the two of you has spiraled out of control. 

Because something that should be inherently easy and casual has now caused him far too much regret and remorse for his liking.

Sitting in an empty classroom with Taesan, you share a cup of bubble tea, the drinking of which causes you to bump hands several times as you reach out to grab it at the same time. 

Interacting with Taesan always brings up sweet and innocent feelings that are like that of childhood crushes, or chasing fireflies on your lawn after dark. 

Fall break has long been over and yet you continue to meet with him even outside of your mandatory weekly check-ins, forgetting the anxiety that once plagued you over this arrangement. 

The time you spend with Taesan is so fulfilling that you’ve managed to completely forget that Leehan hasn’t contacted you in almost a week. 

Well, maybe not completely. 

You still wonder from time to time what he’s thinking, if maybe he read the text message you sent prior to his dick pic and internalized the part where you emphasized how you wouldn’t have time for him anymore.

There is of course a tiny part of you that feels empty and abandoned at the idea of him ghosting you and never talking to you again.

But it’s in a stroke of optimism, feigned or otherwise, that you decide to pour your attention into someone who feels like a much better match for you, that someone being Taesan.

“I’m just about to finish with this assignment. After I’m done, do you wanna go to the caf?” you mumble out in inquiry to Taesan as you check over your quiz answers for the last time before submitting. 

You hear him make a noncommittal noise in response, which you first interpret as disinterest, but only seconds later recognize to be absent-mindedness as you feel his eyes warming the side of your face. 

You let out a chuckle, just about to say something teasing to him for being caught staring at you when a few warm fingers glide across your ear. Taken aback, you meet Taesan’s gaze as he tucks away a piece of your stray hair. 

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, holding your face in his hand. “You have this…faraway look in your eyes.”

Your eyes dart between his face and his hand that’s slow to come off of your ear, surprised by the sudden bit of physical contact.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer calmly if maybe a bit shakily, trying to appear normal though your head screams with a million passing thoughts at once. Taesan nods in acceptance of this answer before turning back to his laptop as if nothing happened. 

If you were at all a gambling person, you’d bet good money that the telltale, suave move of tucking your hair behind your ear was a way for him to see how you’d react to something less platanotic from him. 

And if you were to allow this moment to pass by without saying anything, you know that he would follow your lead and pretend like this never happened. He’d use your silence as evidence that his advances are unwelcome. 

Perhaps you’re feeling a little bold, but you don’t want him to go any longer thinking that his interest isn’t reciprocated.

“Wait,” you remark, reaching out to grab Taesan’s wrist. “Taesan, can I kiss you?”

The usually mysterious, confident boy loses his ability to speak when you ask him that, eyes going wide and only nodding to communicate his consent. Finding his sudden shyness charming, you smile as you lean in to press your lips against his. 

Taesan’s mouth is just as inviting as you thought it would be all the times you spent staring at it when you were sure he wasn’t looking. He may have acted shy just now, but the way that Taesan kisses you is like fire. He presses his mouth hard against yours, and when his body does the same you soon find yourself pressed into the rolling chair you’re sitting in.

Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You were sure that Taesan, ever the responsible one, would be the person between the two of you to pull away before things got too heated. 

But now, all he does is lean in to your provocations, sticking his tongue into your mouth while you whimper against his. 

And as you try to allow your brain to white out so that you can truly relax into the gratification he is sure to give you, all you can think about is how his lips are not Leehan’s lips.

His hands are not Leehan’s hands. 

His kiss doesn’t evoke even a fraction of the electricity that Leehan does just by looking at you. 

You accept then that self-preservation must be a confounding myth to your psyche, because against all odds, you are still very much into Leehan. 

And while you could easily fuck Taesan anyway and let the enjoyment of his sex prove as a temporary salve to the gaping wound that is your feelings for Leehan, you feel too much like he doesn’t deserve to fuck someone with such selfish intentions. 

So, it’s with both regret and sobering understanding that you pull Taesan away from you, lines of spit breaking into drool as you separate.

The two of you become temporarily frozen in a moment of both confusion and shock. Taesan, looking at you with widened eyes and reddened lips, asks in a small yet urgent voice, “What? Is something wrong?”

You already feel like a piece of shit as you loosen your grip on Taesan’s hair, letting your hands fall to your lap and noticing that his still rest on your waist. “Taesan…” you begin, and already at just the sound of his name, you can see his expression wilting, like he knows by the unsure tone of your voice exactly what you’re going to say. And how couldn’t he, when you suck so badly at giving bad news?

“I think you’re an amazing person. And believe me when I say I really, really wanted this between us,” you emphasize, wishing you could get swallowed up by a hole as he continues to stare at you in dumbfounded awe. 

You know that these aren't words anyone wants to hear but you feel compelled to say them, feeling like Taesan deserves honesty from you.

“To be completely candid with you, the reason why I’m on academic probation is because of a guy. A recent guy who treated me like shit, but because I’m an idiot, I still want him.”

You wait on edge for the moment when Taesan’s disposition will return to that of the understanding, kind person you’ve come to know, the moment when you’ll both laugh at the awkwardness of this situation and allow yourselves to forget it ever happened.

Instead, though, all you see in Taesan’s eyes is a fiery passion that makes your head hurt as you realize he won’t let this rejection go down easily. 

“You know that doesn’t matter to me right? We don’t have to…be all romantic, and shit. I’m fine with something casual. Happier with that, even.”

It’s with a pang of insecurity that you fight back a self-pitying laugh at those words, wondering what it is about you that makes men only want casual, no-strings-attached relationships with you. 

“I’m sorry for making things awkward. And if you don’t want to tutor me anymore after this, I’d completely understand,” you concede in the nicest possible tone you can muster, still incredibly conscious of Taesan’s hands that have still not left your waist. “But I can’t do this, Taesan. You’re amazing but I just…I can’t, okay?”

When Taesan continues to stare at you as if he isn’t comprehending a word that’s coming out of your mouth, you reach down to move his hands off of your waist yourself, and when you do,  you’re shocked when you feel his fingers seizing around your wrists to hold them in place. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. So what if you’re not over your ex? That shouldn’t stop you from getting your rocks off,” he says, voice rising considerably as he squeezes your wrists so harshly it begins to hurt. 

It’s at this moment that you realize you’ll never be able to look at Taesan the same again. 

No longer the sweet, kind and helpful boy you first met, he looks pathetic and at worst, scary as he continues to refuse your rejection.

“Taesan, I’m really gonna need you to let go of me,” you request, saying it without any niceties as you manage to convince yourself that maybe he’s just taking this extra hard for whatever reason and just needs to hear you being serious so that he can come to his senses. “Listen, how about we end early for today and talk about this another time–”

“I’m not letting you leave until you can look me in my eyes and give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this,” he asserts, still holding your wrists, laughing a little in a way that makes it hard for you to tell if he knows that he’s making you uncomfortable or thinks that this is all just some game of hard-to-get. “You can act coy all you want but I know you want me, I could tell as soon as I met you.”

“I’m gonna tell you to let go of me one more time, Taesan, and then I start screaming,” you threaten, no longer feeling amused or pitiful but instead angry, adrenaline running through your veins as you consider the possibility of having to physically attack him. 

You’re not sure how things escalated so quickly but now you’re quickly regretting ever befriending Han Taesan in the first place, ever thinking that he could be a permanent fixture in your life.

Catching you by surprise, Taesan stands up suddenly from his chair and drags you up with him. It’s in a flurry of movements that he somehow manages to pin you against a wall, smirking down at you from above. 

You let out a squeal but he covers your mouth, strong enough to use only one of his hands to keep your arms pinned above your head. He laughs as you struggle against him, perhaps not realizing – or worse, realizing it and getting off on how deeply he’s managed to scare you.

“What?” he asks through upturned lips, pressing his body into yours. “Don’t girls like it when guys don’t take no for an answer?”

It’s in the strangest and most serendipitous stroke of luck that you hear the sound of the classroom door swinging open.

And when you turn your head to meet the gaze of your savior, it’s Leehan who you see standing there, taking in the scene in front of him. 

It feels stupid and random that of course it’s Leehan who just happened to be the person to walk in here, but you don’t dwell too much on the details, focused on the relief that floods through you knowing there’s someone here to intervene on your behalf. 

Leehan hesitates momentarily as he wonders if he’s just had the misfortune to accidentally walk in on the kinky foreplay between you and this new guy you’ve been seeing. Attending a lecture in this same building, he happened to walk by the classroom and hear a distressed voice that sounded vaguely familiar. 

Through the fogged glass material of the door, he could just barely make out your silhouette, instinctually barging in to see what was going on. 

If Leehan didn’t know you so well, he might’ve immediately bolted at the sight of you engaging in intimacy with someone else. It would be too much and he knows it would force him to confront his conflicting feelings towards you.

But the moment he meets your gaze and sees the steely, ice cold fear that’s in your eyes, his next moves are made clear. Without questioning anything, he steps forward and punches an already staggering Taesan in the face.

The punch causes Taesan to fall backward, blood that you aren’t sure is coming from his lip or his nose splattering onto the floor. You and Leehan remain frozen, you in shock at both Taesan’s actions and Leehan’s sudden presence, and Leehan with the adrenaline of becoming unexpectedly violent. 

It’s in that moment of stillness on both of your parts that Taesan has time to recover, and before you can react, he’s leaping forward to tackle Leehan onto a nearby desk.

You let out a squeal of shock as the two men struggle, causing desks and their chairs to fly around the room haphazardly in the process.

And to your horror, Taesan quickly gets the upper hand over Leehan, sitting on top of the shorter boy in a straddling position before letting his hands fly in a series of devastating punches. 

You go to pull him off but he pushes you away, forcing you then to search frantically for your phone in the hopes of calling campus security before Leehan is pulverized any further.

“Hey, is something going o—” you hear an unfamiliar voice ask, and you look up to find that you’ve been discovered by a complete stranger, a boy who you assume is another student by his shaggy attire and backpack. He answers his own question by glancing into the room and catching sight of Taesan and Leehan who are both now bleeding as they remain wrestling on the floor.

You’re just about to enlist the stranger to help you in dragging Taesan off of Leehan when, suddenly, you don’t have to. 

Realizing that the stranger’s presence could mean that even more people could arrive to inspect what’s causing all of this noise any second, you watch as the fear of getting in trouble overtakes Taesan’s expression until he’s getting up. 

He gets up and sprints out of the classroom wildly, shoulder checking the stranger in the process as he flees out of the building.

“Should I run after him?” asks the student at the door who you’re sure is still processing what he’s just seen. But more than anything else, you’re worried about Leehan, who you just saw taking several punches to the face and is laying down on the ground making strangled, agonized noises.

“No. It’s better that you scared him away. I just need to get him to the infirmary,” you reply, trying to sound more calm and controlled than you feel but hearing how your adrenaline from the past few minute’s events causes your voice to come out shaky and broken. The stranger asks if you need any help but you wave him away, deciding it would be too much of a burden to have to explain what just happened to anyone else. 

So it’s by yourself that you go to hover over Leehan’s body and try to push back the horror of seeing his face bloodied and bruised so that you can help him onto his feet.

And because most of the damage seems to be centralized on his face — maybe his back and head, too, after being tackled onto the ground — he mostly manages to stand up on his own. Though, once on his feet, he has to lean on you to avoid staggering.

“Don’t…let him…go, Y/N,” he mumbles, making you feel even more concerned and on edge as his garbled tone makes it sound like he’s one step away from passing out. “He was…hurting you, wasn’t he?”

“It’s fine, Leehan. Let’s just get you to the infirmary,” you reply dismissively, needing him to be pliant more than anything in this moment so that you can get him to your thankfully close by campus infirmary without issue. 

Your transgression with Taesan with startling and for a brief moment, terrifying. But with him now gone, the majority of your distress lies with Leehan and making sure he’s okay.

And to your relief, as you take a few steps forward with Leehan’s arm leaned over your shoulder, he remains upright and mostly autonomous in his movements.

He continues to say nothing on your way out of the building outside from the occasional groan, and you’re sure that as the adrenaline wears off that the pain in his face must become more present. You luckily make it to the infirmary moments later, where the doctor on call takes one look at Leehan’s face and immediately rushes him into a care room. 

Everything that happens after that is a bit of a blur for you. A campus security officer comes to take a statement from you. You tell him everything, giving him Taesan’s full name and picture in the hopes that it can lead to some type of action, although a part of you feels discouraged and numb at that notion.

You wait anxiously in the lobby of the infirmary, waiting for an update from the doctor and feeling like you’re gonna throw up when the older woman comes out from the hallway with a neutral, unreadable expression on her face.

“Hi ma'am. Your friend is doing just fine. All of the cuts on his face are superficial, so they’ll heal on their own. He’ll have some bruises and swelling, which will also go away with time. He does have a bit of a concussion, so we’ll send you both home with some Tylenol. If you’d like to come and see him, you can follow me.”

Though you figured that most of his injuries were minor, you still feel relieved to hear that nothing is significantly wrong; it’s irrational, but you know you would have been eaten alive with guilt had anything serious happened. 

Getting up to follow the doctor, you walk into the care room to find Leehan sitting on the edge of an examination chair, a nurse still applying little white bandaids to a cut on his cheek. When he sees you come in he smiles, though only fleetingly as the gesture causes him to wince in pain.

You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt to sit down on a chair that’s directly next to his dangling legs. You watch as the nurse goes to prod at a separate wound on his lip with a q-tip dipped in brown liquid. You don’t realize how tense you are until you feel the warmth of a hand over yours, and when you look up, Leehan is staring at you in amusement. 

“You’re shaking,” he observes, and though he can’t smirk without it causing him pain, he still gazes at you in a way that is teasing and smug. And the fact that he’s concerned about you when he’s the one who’s getting medical attention makes you let out a cynical, humorless laugh.

“Don’t worry about me. Look what he did to you.”

“I’m still good-looking, though, aren’t I?” he replies playfully, and because you’re so upset, you feel yourself almost inclined to scold him for making such jokes in light of the circumstances. But Leehan, never one to read the room or adhere to the tones and moods of others, is laughing as he commands, “You have to tell me or I’ll have an internal crisis.”

You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to be annoyed by him but not being able to help your smile as he continues to await your confirmation of his enduring looks with a pout. 

Rolling your eyes, it’s with a bit of resistance in your voice that you reply, “Yes, you’re still handsome, Leehan.”

He pumps his fist up in the air triumphantly, and with that, the nurse leaves the room, telling you that she’ll return with the official paperwork needed so that he can be discharged.

Once she’s gone, it’s quiet between the two of you until Leehan breaks the silence with a question. “That guy…his name’s Taesan, right?”

You’re taken aback, both at the sudden change in his tone and disposition –  his voice now serious and inquiring – and the fact that he even knows who Taesan is. “How do you know?”

“I saw you with him outside of your dorm. Asked Jaehyun who he is,” he responds plainly. And as you take in this information, you’re not sure what to say in reply. Even just knowing that he was outside of your dorm that day when Taesan came to your room and didn’t say anything makes you think he must’ve had some kind of reaction to seeing the two of you together. 

And as you put the timing together, it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him for a week until now.

But then again, it doesn’t make sense. Because the Leehan you know, the Leehan you’ve come to resent, surely wouldn’t — shouldn't — care to see you with another guy when he’s been so adamant about keeping things non-exclusive between the two of you.

“Are you together?” he asks when you remain silent, and in what feels like a complete switch in power dynamics, you find that Leehan is the one now clearly expressing some kind of worry or at the very least interest in what you get up to when you’re not with him. 

And because you feel both vindicated to be on the other side of this sort of questioning, and not at all entitled to tell him the truth, you answer by asking, “If I said yes, what would you say?”

Leehan looks at you, all amusement absent from his expression even as he says somewhat sarcastically, “That I thought being with me meant you had better taste in men.”

His response causes you to scoff, the idea of him thinking that he’s somehow at a higher caliber than all the other similarly emotionally-unavailable men on your campus something you find absurd. 

And yes, maybe it’s because you’re already feeling a little bitter towards him that you’re then replying scathingly, “If anything, wouldn’t my interest in you mean the opposite?”

“Funny,” he says sardonically in reply. The atmosphere between the two of you currently is tense. He resents you for being with someone else and you resent him for setting boundaries for your relationship that he never intended to follow.

And yet, despite the unresolved negative emotions that are clearly swimming between the two of you, it feels absurd and crazy to say that as you continue to make unbroken and silent eye contact, you feel like he’s about to kiss you. 

That’s the sort of crazy chemistry you seem to have with one another, where even as you both have the rationality to recognize the toxicity of this dynamic you both still find yourselves magnetically pulled to one another in a way that, in most people’s eyes, would be viewed as mindless. 

But it’s just as you swear he’s leaning in that the doctor comes into the room, handing Leehan a clipboard and telling him he can go once he’s finished filling out a few forms. You wait for him, not sure what will happen once you leave but feeling almost responsible to at least see him to his apartment.

And so, you exit the hospital together, and it’s as you’re walking out that you voice to him truthfully, “It feels weird just dropping you off like you didn’t just get your face rearranged trying to save me.”

He lets out a chuckle in response, swinging his body so that he’s standing in front of you before shrugging and saying, “Then don’t drop me off. We could go to your dorm, watch a movie.”

The request to do something as simple as watch a movie sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth that you can’t help but laugh out loud. “When do we ever watch a movie?” you ask, repeating the words in disbelief. 

You’re mostly joking when you ask that, but it’s with a tiny pang of sadness that you acknowledge the tragedy of him wanting your company for something other than sex being something that’s so unbelievable.

“Today. Rocky V is probably ill-timed, but I love a good nature documentary,” he replies with a grin, and as always, you are unable to get a read on his expression to know if he is being serious or not. 

But today has been a crazy day and you know that being in your room by yourself after everything that’s happened is only going to make you feel worse. So, deciding that there’s no harm in keeping him company for just a little while longer, you allow him to lead the way to the building that he’s been to so many times. 

You know from learning your roommate’s schedule that she’ll be in a lab for the next 3 hours, a fact that makes you feel relieved as you enter your dorm with Leehan trailing behind you. He comes in and immediately collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out on either side of the cushions in a way that brings renewed attention to his broad shoulders.

“So. Do you actually want to watch a movie?” you ask casually as you stand a few feet away from him, trying your hardest to keep any bitterness out of your tone as you watch him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You know, now that I’m here…” he says, already smirking as he watches you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “It feels like a much better idea for you to come sit on my lap.”

Even though you find yourself enticed by the invitation, in a small, distant part of your brain, it feels like you’ve been manipulated into letting him come to your room. That watching a movie had always been a lie to get you to have sex with him.

But something has changed inside of you, and from what, you can’t pinpoint. All you know is that the accumulations of lies and divertive tactics that you’ve endured from Leehan thus far has left you almost numb to his provocations. 

Instead of feeling sad or shitty or upset, you just feel nothing. 

And somehow, that change feels more concerning to you than the emotions from before did.

Still, you find yourself stalking silently to Leehan on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as you make your way towards him. His legs spread naturally as you get between them, and it’s with a jaguar-like slowness that you crawl over his body until you’re straddling him. 

Intensity rolls off of the both of your bodies like water, the silence and shared eye contact only contributing to the growing sexual desire that builds between the two of you.

In contrast to such lust, it’s in a gesture of affection that you lean in to lay a gentle, barely-there kiss against all of the wounds on his face. The cut on his cheek. His busted bottom lip. The knot forming on the top of his head. The bruise on the side of his jaw. You do it almost in apology but also because you want him to tease him, giving him only fleeting touches and kisses before you do anything substantial. He flinches at first at the contact but eventually relaxes into the softness of your lips against him. 

And though you couldn’t articulate the reason why, you get the feeling that he flinches less out of pain, but more in surprise at the unfamiliar gesture of tenderness and how it impacts him. 

You’ve only just reached his neck, sucking hickies into the pale skin there, when you can feel his cock hardening underneath you.

It’s after you’ve kissed every single piece of skin uncovered by his shirt that you decide to relieve a bit of his suffering by reaching a hand down into the waistband of his pants. All you do is close your fist around his shaft and stroke him languidly, but you suppose your teasing worked better than you thought as he whimpers at the simplest of movements. He bucks into your hand, not afraid of seeming desperate and shamelessly moaning at your touch. 

Watching him writhe and shudder beneath you, sensitive in a way you’ve never seen before, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this is one of the few times that you’ve felt even a semblance of control in your interactions during sex. It’s always been you on the receiving end of his endless repertoire of tactics, designed always to render you incomprehensible and under the thumb of his persuasion.

Spurred on by the observation, you take advantage of his submission to ask a question that’s been on your mind since you left the hospital. 

“Can I ask you something? Why did you ask Jaehyun who I was with?”

You can just barely make out the expression of surprise that appears faintly behind Leehan’s glassy eyes, and in a tactic that even you admit is slightly contemptible, you never stop the movements of your hand as you await his answer. 

Desperate for even a moment’s worth of vulnerability from him, you hope that by literally dangling his climax in your hands that he’ll be more inclined to be truthful with you.

But for Leehan, giving you the honest answer — that he’s simply a jealous person who can’t stand seeing you with someone else even though it’s hypocritical — would only serve in making you think that his jealousy is a sign of caring, his caring a sign of affection, his affection a sign that he wants to be your boyfriend. 

And though that assessment isn’t as easy to refute as it may have once been when he first met you, it seems idiotic to put any ideas in your head that could lead to him having to admit feelings he isn’t quite sure of yet. 

So, in lieu of the truth, he replies with something that, honestly, should be a bigger concern for him than it presently is: “Because you should tell me if you’re being intimate with someone else. What if you’re not using protection and I catch something?” 

Up until now, you had prepared yourself to react calmly to whatever Leehan’s answer would be, a task you knew would be difficult because the idea of him being jealous at all is in itself insane and backwards.

It was he who insisted that this dynamic be free of any constraints or limitations. 

But the fact that he’s implying you would have sex with someone else and be so reckless as to not make any precautions for your health has your composure breaking, a scoff leaving you as you blurt out, “Have you been honest with me about the people you’re seeing?”

It’s a question you already know the answer to as you still haven’t forgotten the night of the Halloween party, how Jaehyun let it slip that Leehan had been on a date. You’d never confronted him about it because, deep down, you felt that you had no right to. 

But now, he’s placing judgment on you in a way that makes you want to throw all caution to the wind and express your true emotions to him for what seems like the first time.

Hearing the knowing tone in your question has Leehan worried, tilting his head to stare at you as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Are you trying to catch me in a lie, Y/N?” he asks, amusement in his tone though you can tell your questioning rattles him. “I’ve never told you anything that wasn’t true.”

But that’s just because you’ve never told me anything of substance, you think to yourself, reflecting back on all of the times he left your room in a hurry so that he could avoid having to show you anything real.

You continue jerking him off intently, and even though he’s obviously enjoying it, you can tell that you’ve thrown him off. During sex you’ve always maintained this sort of scathing, playful banter, but this time, he knows that your question is motivated by a genuine desire to hear the truth from him. It makes him beyond uncomfortable, especially with his dick still hard and aching in your moving hand. In a sudden change of dynamics, it’s him trying to read what you’re thinking.

Seeing this crack in Leehan’s usually guarded persona spurs you on into saying even more things that you’ve been suppressing. “I know that you’re seeing someone else,” you assert, honesty you never thought you’d be capable of expressing coming out boldly and without ambivalence. “Jaehyun told me, the night of the Halloween party.”

Your eyes are glued to Leehan’s face as you scan for the smallest fluctuation in his expression, searching desperately for any indication of what he’s thinking. And in yet another gesture that might as well be a verbal admission of guilt, Leehan stares up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. 

Leehan – confident, cool, teasing Leehan – who has always made you feel like you were scared of intimacy for not wanting to make eye contact with him during sex, is now the one shying away the intensity of your gaze. 

The feeling of triumph that comes with finally feeling like you have him at your mercy after months of the opposite has you speeding up the movements of your hand, watching as he almost winces from the overstimulation you provide. 

But more than anything else, you want answers. 

You want to know why he thinks it’s okay to police who else you invite into your bedroom when he clearly does whatever he wants without any regard for you. 

You want him to decisively and plainly decide if he’s either a sadistic asshole who believes that he should be able to treat you like shit while he goes out and fucks whoever he wants—Or if, like you, the passion of this relationship has overwhelmed him so much that he now finds himself feeling things for you that are beyond sexual, things that have caused him to abhor the notion of you being with someone other than him.

It feels like you need the answer to that question more than you need air.

And so, it’s in desperation that your voice comes out shaky as you demand, “Say something.” 

“I can’t,” he manages through gritted teeth, the sound of his voice coming out raspy and submissive making your cunt pulse with arousal. “You’re about to make me come.”

Feeling like he’s being backed into a corner, Leehan wants to tell you to stop, but the euphoria he’s experiencing is too great. He’s never seen you be so assertive, so purposeful in doing things that you know will make him go crazy. 

Rubbing your thumb over his tip. Spitting downward so that the wetness of your spit can reach his cock. Stroking him wildly and meeting his thrusts into your fist. 

Pressure builds in his abdomen until he feels himself about to explode with what might be the most intense climax of his life. 

But in a move that shocks the both of you, it’s just as Leehan is about to finish all over your hand that you abruptly pull off of him. 

Stop the movements of your hand and watch brazenly as the realization of what you just did is processed on his face.

Maybe he thought that you were joking and that this was all just some aggressive manner of foreplay. 

But now, he can see in your shocked expression, how you look so surprised at even your own insistence, that to deny him of his pleasure in this way was something that took a lot out of you. 

It’s been a hallmark of your relationship so far for you to devote yourself to his satisfaction. You’ve always cared so much about being wanted by him, even after he’s shown his disregard for you time and time again.

And so to see you work up the courage to defy him in this way makes it clear to him that you’re not gonna drop this.

This isn’t something that he can smile or flirt his way out of in the hopes of having you wrapped around his finger for just one more day.

You’re gonna force this into being an issue. And fine; if you want to have this conversation, he’ll have it.

Even if it means that by the end of this you'll realize how shitty of a person he is and want nothing to do with him afterward.

If you were still the same pliant, conflict-avoiding Y/N, you’d be alarmed at the change in his expression and how his usual amused smirk melts into a straight-lined frown. You’d transform into the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who’d laugh and pretend that this was all just a way to rile him up into fucking you, hoping that you could forget this moment ever happened.

But it feels like something has been lost in your dynamic that can never be brought back. You’re no longer okay with being lied to, manipulated. And Leehan, realizing how serious you are, seeks to take back control of this situation by flipping your bodies over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 

He pins your arms above your head, holding them down so you can’t move. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”

He says the statement with a warning sort of tone but it only makes you laugh, no longer able to take his provocations and vague answers seriously. “Then don’t try to act hypocritical and treat me like I’m a fucking irresponsible idiot,” you retort, no hint of banter in your words as you hope he understands how serious you’re being, how done you are with his lies. “Having sex with guys without protection and not telling them about it. How do I know you haven’t been doing the exact thing you’re accusing me of?”

You ask a valid question that Leehan sees no way to get out of answering. Clearly, you already know (because of his disloyal, talkative fucking roommate) that he’s been seeing at least one girl that isn’t you. And because he can tell with certainty that your pliance is dependent on at least some kind of honesty from him, he tells you a technical truth when he says, “Since I met you, I’ve only been fucking you. No one else. I swear.”

It’s an answer that protects him from having to further delve into whether he’s seeing anyone else romantically, an important distinction that he isn’t interested in clarifying for the sake of your continued interest in him.

And as he watches you scan his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you seek to find any indication of either sincerity or hypocrisy in his expression, he seizes the opportunity provided by your momentary lapse in questioning to reach past the waistband of your leggings, sticking two fingers into your pulsing cunt. 

He watches with satisfaction as even in your bitterness, you still can’t help the way your back arches and your mouth parts naturally at the action. Mirroring your tactics from before, he gives you great satisfaction in exchange for your hopeful compliance. Thrusting his long fingers inside of you, he mumbles in sensual truth, “Your pretty, wet pussy is the only thing that’s been occupying my brain for the last three months.”

The part of your brain that would question the credibility of his words is turned off like a lightswitch as the thrill from his fingers takes over. As much as you try to fight off what you’re experiencing so that you can regain the upper hand, it feels like it’s almost in revenge that he fingers you with such vigor that you can’t speak. 

“Can you say the same? Huh, pretty?” he demands, digits angled just right so that the tips of his fingers repeatedly push against your most sensitive parts. “Tell me I’m the only person whose been fucking orgasms into your cunt.”

You could usually appreciate such possessive sentiments from Leehan when they were spoken in moments where there wasn’t any lingering resentment between the two of you. Now, they only annoy you, causing you to petulantly reply in mocking of his earlier words, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

And in a move that is surely in imitation of your earlier actions, he pulls his fingers out of you completely and with them, your orgasm. His expression is a handsome mixture of annoyance and frustration. 

It feels like the two of you are in some sort of scornful, unspoken competition, you trying to get him to be honest and him trying to get you to drop this entirely. And all of this undercut by the fact that both really wanna fuck each other, only adding to the frustration of your pleasure being taken away. 

Though your body reels regretfully from the sudden drop in adrenaline, it’s with an unmoved expression on your face that you sit up, making yourself level with him. 

“What?” you retort derisively, amused to find him upset at tactics you only know because he modeled them for you so many times before. “Does it make you mad?”

“No,” he answers, a fierce expression on his face that lets you know despite the desire radiating between the two of you that he’s being serious when he says, “It makes me question the type of person you are.”

And as you poke his chest assertively, you reply, “A person abiding by the standards that you set,” reminding him once more how he lacks the right to feel entitled to your body. 

You again question why he continues to insist that a no-strings attached arrangement is what he wants when it’s clear he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

And so, it’s in your confusion that you ask, “I’m giving you exactly what you want. So why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”

“This isn’t what I want,” he says in reply. And the way that he says it almost quietly, like a stream-of-consciousness that was accidentally blurted out loud, has you inclined to believe that maybe, he’s finally coming around to seeing just how poorly suited this arrangement is for the both of you.

So, it’s with a curious tilt to your voice that you ask, “Then what do you want?”

Looking at you with a sort of urgent, unyielding expression on his face, it’s after a moment of intense and searing silence between the two of you that he leans in to kiss you roughly. What was once a moment of willful competition between the two of you now becomes intense and panicked as the passion of the last few moments takes over your bodies. 

Your hands move in a frenzy as you rush to take off one another’s clothes, and you get the feeling that had the fabric provided any real obstacle, you both would’ve been willing to rip each other’s pants and tops off. Actualizing your desire for one another becomes the most important and serious task to have ever been endeavored upon.

You’ve only just removed your final article of clothing when Leehan crawls between your legs, finding you soaked and pulsing in anticipation of his touch. Noticing this, he can feel himself going crazy with all of the unanswered questions he has about you and Taesan. He finds himself vocalizing these thoughts shamelessly as he mumbles, “Fuck, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me. Because if someone else has had this pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”

“Make me come, and I’ll give you a straight answer,” you defiantly reply.

Tired of your games, it’s in expression of his growing impatience that Leehan slaps your pussy uncaringly. The act sends a jolt of shock through your body but especially your clit, making you moan in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, and rather than being amused by his insistence like you were before, it's for the first time that you find yourself intimidated, as well as turned on. “Tell me the truth.”

Leehan has always been the leader in your sexual dynamic, but you’d never describe him as rough or dominant until now. Rattled by the change, you aren’t able to manage a reply to his demand, but it’s then that Leehan raises himself up so that your faces are level. 

Making sure to keep his eyes on yours this time, he pushes three fingers inside of your aching cunt — more than you’ve ever taken from him and enough to have your eyes rolling back upon impact.

“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demands as he fucks you open with his fingers. You’ve never seen him this fired-up, this crazed, and it has you more turned on and pliant than you think you’ve ever been before. 

His fingers thrust in and out of you with strength you’ve never felt before, and in an amount of time that you find to be pathetic, you can feel your stomach tensing with an approaching climax, moans leaving your mouth with every breath and every curl of his fingers. 

But for the second time tonight, Leehan notices you’re about to come and rips it away from you by withdrawing his fingers entirely. And unlike before, you can’t pretend not to be dismayed as you whimper wistfully at the loss of contact. Leehan, unamused, only stares at you from above and says with finality in his tone, “Tell me the truth, and I’ll make you come.”

You can see now how serious he’s being, how important this is to him, and though you find it entirely irrational, the pulsing of arousal in your body is too strong to ignore. 

“I never fucked him. He never touched me until today.”

“And anyone else besides him?”

“There’s no one else, Leehan,” you assure him, body wracked with the weight of several heavy breaths as you practically beg for him to believe you, to touch you, to relieve the almost painful aching of your cunt. “Just you.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he doesn't require any additional scrutiny before accepting your answer at face value, muttering an approving “Good girl,” before diving between your legs.

And you guess by the almost hungry, desperate way he then proceeds to eat you out that his easy acceptance of your word is just as much in service to his own desire to taste you as it is to you and your enjoyment. 

Because you find not just in this instance but always that Leehan gives head like his survival is dependent on your arousal. He licks and sucks and mouths at your clit, moaning languidly into your core like it's the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

And as if that’s not enough to have you reeling, he brings his hand out from underneath your thigh and puts two long, crooked fingers back into your dripping hole, thrusting and curling them inside of you like he’s intent on finding the spot that will make you scream. You throw your head back and close your eyes at the feeling that washes over your body, something like electricity pulsing through you and making your legs shake. 

Without intending it, your hips buck against his tongue in chase of your impending orgasm. And when he flattens the wet muscle, allowing you the agency to take your pleasure rather than him having to give it to you, it’s only seconds later when you feel your abdomen contracting with the intensity of your long awaited orgasm. 

You’ve barely recovered from the high of your climax when you hear Leehan saying tauntingly from above you, “See? No one else can do that as good as I can.” He then spreads your legs apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, slick turning your inner thighs shiny and wet. ”Don’t you know now why you shouldn’t fuck anyone else?

Refusing him the satisfaction of an answer, your only response is to sit up and tell him, “Lay down. I wanna ride you.

Leehan’s only show of resistance to this request is a raise of his eyebrow, but he’s otherwise pliant as you maneuver on the couch so that he’s flat on his back. You hover just below his hard-as-a-rock erection, realizing you should go and get a condom, but it feels like an ultimate test of both your honesty that you assertively inform him, “I’m on birth control.”

Understanding what you mean to imply with this admission, you watch as Leehan’s eyes gloss over, another wave of lust taking over at the notion of having raw sex. In a distant part of your brain that isn’t completely corrupted by wanting, you wonder if this is a good idea given that you have no way of proving whether he’s been honest about his sexual history with other girls.

But as you unconsciously scoot closer and allow his cock to brush against your folds, his encouragement of “Then sit on it,” ringing pleasantly in your ears, the only thing that delays you is your desire to further tauny him. 

“Look at me,” you command passionately, holding on just barely to your own composure as you fight to get these words out amidst your own lust-corrupted brain. “If you stop, I stop. I want you to look in my eyes when I make you come.”

Leehan, either ignorant to how serious you’re being or uncaring, whimpers out your name in lieu of any indication that he understands and accepts what you’re saying. You sink down on him anyway and allow the feeling of being filled to the brim by his long, veiny cock to wipe out any and all thoughts out of your mind. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” he mumbles out in expression of how good it feels, after you’ve only just began bouncing your body up and down his cock. You bear witness to the moment when the embrace of your tight walls becomes too much for him and he throws his head back, disregarding your words from earlier. 

And although it hurts you to do so, makes your thighs burn and your lips part to let out a regretful whimper, you pull yourself upwards until his cock slips out of you completely.

“Open your eyes,” you demand assertively, not just for his sake but for your own, so that you can go back to riding the life out of him until you both can come. “Show me why you deserve this. Remind me why I keep letting you fuck me.”

The scathing remark and the brazen expression you wear as you say it causes Leehan to regain his focus, returning his gaze to yours and making sure to maintain it even as your reinsertion of his cock has him fighting not to shut his eyes closed. It’s with a feeling of regretful foreboding that Leehan realizes this is probably going to end way too soon, that the sickening combination of you riding him, your dominant and sultry words, the view of your body from above him, and the intense unbroken eye contact all work in service to his quickly approaching climax. 

And even as you too feel yourself inching closer and closer to the point of incomprehensible return, you keep talking, feelings that you’ve been suppressing for too long coming out in sultry, brokenly-spoken expressions. “I want you to savor this moment. Memorize how it feels to be inside of me,” you tell him, and then, leaning down to bite the tip of his ear, you whimper, “Fuck Leehan. You’re so big.”

Your purposeful usage of all the things you know for a fact rile him up the most is not lost on him, and it’s almost like you want him to come as quickly and embarrassingly as possible. He lingers on that thought for less than a few seconds, but even just the fleeting idea of spilling his seed inside of you has his brain entering a whole nother level of depraved and uncontrolled, until he’s muttering out the word “Fuck,” in repeated succession and thrusting up into you wildly. “Gonna come,” he announces only seconds later.

“I know you are, baby. And when you do, remember that I can only make you feel this good,” you reply, surprised at your own ability to sound assured and in control in the midst of your own fast-approaching orgasm. But in a way, it feels like you grow more confident the more you watch his verbal and motor skills deteriorate with every bounce and squeeze of your pussy against his cock. 

Making grunting sounds as his thrusts become sloppy and uncontrolled, he replies through gritted teeth, “I know. You’re my favorite girl, Y/N.”

You’ve always hated that term because of the implication it makes that there are other girls with whom he's comparing you to. But as you commit to fighting off all of the weak, vulnerable, sad emotions that have now only rendered you numb, it’s in another show of control that you reply, “Then say it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

At first, you aren’t sure if Leehan can even manage a reply as you watch him grow focused and intent on his approaching orgasm. But it’s through a mixture of muffled grunts and whines, his hips never ceasing their thrusts into you, that he begins to speak.

“Your pussy was made for me. It’s all I ever think about. The sex we have – nghh – it’s the best I’ve ever had,” he tells you emphatically. 

And the brokenness of his words, the way they come out rushed and passionate as if a suppressed part of him needs you to hear them, has you feeling profoundly impacted by the weight of them. 

“You make me crazy, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. Only you—” 

It’s with one final rough, definitive thrust that Leehan comes inside of you. You’re overcome by the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling your walls, pussy clenching around him as you too experience another orgasm. And as you both recover from your highs, you can feel the atmosphere becoming almost instantaneously stuffy and awkward, the realization of what just happened and all of the things you allowed to come out in the heat of the moment hitting you all at once.

Wanting nothing more than to be released from the clutches of this regretful moment, you pull yourself off of him and wince at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and onto your inner thighs, some of it spilling onto the couch. 

And without ceremony, Leehan does what he does best – he gathers his clothes and things and begins to put them on as if nothing happened.

The silence that overcomes the two of you as you sit naked and uncovered on the opposite couch, watching him change, is unlike either of you. You’d usually at the very least manage  a few words about how good that was, or small talk about anything fun happening soon on campus. Had Leehan been any good with silence, he might’ve just walked out and not said anything to you at all. 

But it’s because of his own manipulative and egotistical desire to continue to remain in your good graces that he says, in desperation to ease the tension, “Hey. By the way, I’m sorry about the picture I sent you. I don’t usually read your messages, so I didn’t see what you had sent me beforehand.”

You stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and hostility coming over you all at once.

Having completely forgotten about the dick picture incident until now, you feel the emotions from then coming back up in a way that feels shocking given the relative inoffensiveness of his apology just now.

It’s hard for you to pinpoint what exactly about the statement sets you off. 

Maybe it’s that you just had the most intimate, soul-baring sex, and now he’s basically back to reminding you of just how little he values you and your personhood. 

How easy it is for him to completely ignore anything you say to him if it has nothing to do with him and his own pleasure.

And with these emotions more than likely reflected on your face, you watch as Leehan — like a startled deer in headlights — makes what are perhaps the quickest efforts he’s ever done to leave your dorm in a hurry.

“I should get back,” he’s replying coldly as he gets up, throwing his jacket over his body so fast that it folds awkwardly along his sides. “But thanks for this.”

This, he says casually. As if his seed isn’t currently wetting the inside of your legs right now.

“But Leehan, the rain—” you insist. Because you can hear thunder rattling your windows outside and you know that to walk home to his apartment is an entirely irrational notion.

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, already halfway to your door as he turns around to look at you, something like regret painted all over his passive expression. “We don’t do that for each other, remember?

And it’s with that last parting, ominous statement that you watch Leehan leave your dorm room without another look in your direction. He’s left your room like this — in a hasty blur without a word or an acknowledgement — more times than you can possibly count. 

So why you find yourself overcome with the feeling that this may be the last time you’ll ever see him again, you’re not entirely sure. 

But it’s because of that gnawing, persistent feeling, eating at you like it never has before, that you get up and find a robe to throw over your body so that you can go and find Leehan before it’s too late.

You’re not even sure of what you’re going to say when you find him standing on the outside porch of your building, head down and phone in his hand as he waits for an Uber. All you know is that it’s pouring buckets outside and even with the bit of roofing over your heads, the wind still blows rain onto your bodies, rendering his hair and face wet. 

“Leehan,” you call out, watching as he turns to you and automatically freezes up as he realizes you followed him out here. “Wait. Don’t go.”

It’s at least a little bit understandable why Leehan appears taken-aback by your words and your presence — any other time you’ve had sex, you’ve never once tried to get him to stay behind, even though he could always notice in your expression or quiet intensity that you wanted him to.

So the fact that you’re here telling him not to go, and because of the nature of the sex you just had, it’s like he already knows that you’re planning to pour your heart out to him, and it’s in fear of that that he finds himself saying wearily, “Y/N—”

“No. Let me talk,” you assert before he can finish, a part of you feeling like if you don’t get these words out now, you never will. And so, fueled by the unexplainable feeling that this may be the last chance for you to tell him how you feel, you channel all the confidence you can possible muster and allow all the suppressed emotions from the last three months to spill out without any filter.

“After we have sex, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you like being with me. I want you to fall asleep with me. I want you to see me and treat me like I’m a human being and not some physical object that you use for sex and nothing else,” you exclaim with a self-pitying scoff.

“And I tried being the chill girl who just goes along with things that are casual. But Leehan, you make me feel things that no one ever has, and it’s not just the sex. For the past few months…it’s felt like my life only truly felt worth living if you were noticing me.”

You can plainly tell by Leehan’s stiff body language and overall lack of reaction that this entire spiel is making him uncomfortable. And as discouraging as the reaction is, now that you’ve started, it feels like you can’t stop until he knows everything that he’s put you through to get to this point.

“And maybe I only feel that way because when we fuck, it’s not like some one-night-stand or throwaway shit. It truly feels like I’m baring my soul to you. And I know that it’s not one sided,” you remark with confidence. Because being in bed with Leehan is the only time when you feel like you can truly understand him. It’s when your hearts, minds, and bodies are in sync and you can both be at your most vulnerable with each other.

“But then you leave, just like you’re doing now. And it makes me feel like the most massive piece of shit you can possibly imagine,” you mumble out with a broken, wet laugh.

Coming to the end of your spiel, you let your arms come down to your sides defeatedly, and with one last imploring look to Leehan’s blank and starry eyes, you ask the question that has been haunting you for the better part of three months now. “So what I guess I want to know is…what is it that’s stopping you from going all in with me? Is it that I’m just…not enough for you to want anything more than sex?” you question, insecurities that have been welling up for so long coming out in a way that has your voice sounding broken. “Or are you just too scared of commitment to allow yourself to feel loved?

“Because that’s exactly what I feel for you. And god dammit, Leehan, but I’m almost 80% sure you feel that way for me too.”

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else left to say and that you got everything you wanted to explain out, it’s with a relieving sigh that your body expels the weight of three months’ worth of pain, sadness, and thoughts of worthlessness. 

And because you know it must be a lot to be on the receiving end of the heaviness of those words, it’s not surprising that the next few seconds after you finish speaking are filled by silence. Watching Leehan stare at you intensely, you allow him the time and the grace to process what he’s heard before you jump to assuming the worst of his silence. 

But then, his first words to you hit you like an icy blast of wind. 

“Y/N, you’re a good person. And the time we’ve spent together has been so much fun for me. But this has always been just that for me…fun. Sex,” he says unambivalently, framing the words delicately though it does nothing to prevent them from hitting you like a freight train. “And I’m sorry if I ever did or said anything that gave you an impression otherwise.

“But honestly, Y/N…” he continues, looking away from you and losing the ability to sugarcoat his thoughts as he expresses, “I told you from the forefront what this was. Why did you say yes if it wasn’t what you wanted?”

He asks a valid question that you unfortunately don’t have the answer to. Because honestly, what were you thinking? Looking back at that moment when he first proposed this arrangement, you have to wonder what possessed you to be delusional enough to think that this would possibly end well.

As embarrassing and humiliating it is to admit, it’s the sex. All those times he told you he desired you, how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, made you feel like maybe he just didn’t know what he wanted. That eventually he’d come around.

“Because I didn’t think that it was that important to you,” you tell him, feeling your confidence shrinking in real time as your voice comes out quiet and whiny. “I thought…I thought you were changing your mind.”

“I don’t think we should keep doing this, Y/N,” he declares in reply, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I like you a lot, but I can’t continue on if I know you have the expectation that this is gonna blossom into something more. I’m sorry, but it’s just not.”

And with that last sobering pronouncement, Leehan runs a hand through his hair, an obviously fake chuckle let out of his lips as he seeks to break the awkwardness of this atmosphere. “This really wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he mumbles out apologetically, and the way that he stands there stiffly lets you know he wants nothing else than to get away from you right now. 

And sure enough, the sound of a notification going off draws both of your attention to his phone. Like a final dagger to your heart and self-esteem, he’s not even able to hide the relief that floods his expression as he announces, “My Uber’s here, so I just…goodbye, Y/N.”

You watch Leehan step off the porch and into the rain, the lack of light and storm clouds rendering him into nothing more but a blurry, gray silhouette. 

It’s how you will more than likely remember Leehan as you watch him enter the white Mazda that pulls into the driveway. 

Watch the car drive off knowing that you will more than likely never see him again.

He will forever be immortalized in your brain as the stormy force of a presence that came into your life like a tornado, wrecking everything around it and exiting like nothing happened, leaving you a splintered mess of a world to clean up for yourself.

You will be just another Natty, someone Leehan offhandedly mentions to his friends in the car with whoever he chooses to be his next victim, someone he spent a good few weeks with only to never mention them again.

“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declared with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”

You rolled your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”

Even as his expression remained passive, he replied forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”

He was right.

The next two months of not seeing, talking, or hearing from Leehan go by in a gray-ish, incomprehensible blur.

You complete your classes, managing a passing GPA and thankfully holding on to your scholarship.

You go out to lunch and on study dates with your mutual friends, neglecting to explain why you always need to know who else is coming before you agree to going out.

You attend a couple parties and events on campus, wondering each time whether you’ll run into Leehan and not sure if the rigid feeling over your chest is because of hopefulness or fear at the idea of possibly seeing him. 

And as you pack up your things to get ready to move out for the winter, it feels like you should be over this by now. You spent three months together. Tumultuous, but still only three – it doesn’t seem to make sense why you still feel so hurt.

But you’re now learning that situationships are the hardest to comprehend in their aftermath because it’s hard to know what exactly it is that you’re feeling wistful towards. Leehan isn’t your ex, but he’s also not a friend whom you simply grew apart from. 

He’s another third thing that you can’t quite capture, making it difficult for you to reminisce on your exciting yet tainted memories with one another.

It’s with these thoughts running through your mind that you finish packing your last few items of furniture, readying them to be stowed away in the back of a U-Haul you rented for the day. 

And with your dorm now basically empty, your roommate having moved out a few days before, you can’t help but to view it nostalgically from the vantage point of your doorway, memories of this semester’s escapades coming back to you all at once.

The dresser that you let Leehan stash his condoms in.

Your cheap bed whose loose, metal springs always robbed you of any chance at secrecy in your interactions. 

Moving towards your kitchenette, you stare silently at the flowers he gifted you that one day, still alive despite several weeks of neglect. The little cardboard fish he stuck between the petals makes it appear almost like they’re swimming among colorful, sagging coral reefs.

Your eyes flit over to your couch, where you didn’t know at the time would be the last place he fucked you before he’d never talk to you again.

Going over these memories in your mind, it makes sense then why when you hear a knock resounding on your door, the first thing you think of is Leehan.

But surely, you’re just caught up in the emotions caused by the sudden moment of reflection; it has to be an RA, or a neighbor about to ask if they can borrow a broom and dustpan.

When you go to open your door, you don’t consider for a second that on the other end could be the one person you’re not prepared to see right now.

So when it swings open and you’re greeted by a straight-faced, wide-eyed Leehan, whose body is relaxed against the side of your door, it feels like all of the air is knocked out of your body.

“Hi,” he says plainly, straightening his posture when he sees you staring at him staggeringly. To say that you feel conflicted as you take in his handsome, tall form would be beyond an understatement. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since you’ve seen each other, and it’s almost like he could tell you right now that he’s here because he wants to fuck you and it would feel normal, like nothing has changed between the two of you.

But even in just making that mental observation, you feel angry and resentful that such a dynamic was normalized among the two of you for so long that you convinced yourself it was okay to be treated that way.

And as you stew in those feelings of renewed bitterness and frustration, you find yourself suddenly and strongly opposed to him being here, asking bluntly, “What is this? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to apologize,” he answers with an imploring look, and habitually you study his expressions in the hopes of discerning whether he’s being sincere or not.

But it’s with a feeling of resignation that you realize how done you are with trying to constantly read his mind and understand what motivates his decisions.

Because the same way there’s a chance that he really did show up here with good intentions, there’s just as equal a chance that he wants you to trust him again so that he can get his dick wet.

And so, in a move that brings you an immature level of satisfaction, you close the door on his face without another word.

You hear him exclaiming loudly “Y/N, wait!” on the other side of the door but you’ve already made up your mind, deciding that whatever he has to say isn’t worthy of your time or attention.

You’re done with his manipulative behavior, with his aloofness and undeserved self-assuredness, but most of all you’re tired of being made to feel like shit. And that’s all he ever did in those few months that you were sleeping together.

As you retreat to your bedroom, you go to return to packing your things, but the adrenaline from the passing moment makes your hand shake and your body pulse energetically. You need a second to pause and breathe and process what’s just happened, to walk around and pace away all of this unresolved energy. 

But then you turn around to go back out into your living room, and that’s when you see Leehan standing right outside the arch of your bedroom doorway.

“Jesus fucking christ, Leehan!” you exclaim in a mixture of both surprise, frustration, and confusion as you wonder whether he broke in or if you—

“You left the door unlocked,” he replies calmly, and even though he knows he has a lot to make up for, he still can’t help the smirk that comes to his face as he jokes, “Kinda 101 not to do that if you don’t want someone coming in. That’s like me leaving the filter of my fish tank —”

“Get out, Leehan. Get out! I have nothing left I want to say to you!” you shout, impatient and uncaring to his jokes and his dimples and everything else about him that used to charm you. It’s all meaningless to you now, and you don’t care if you look crazy or unhinged when you go to physically push him out of your dorm.

But even with the nonchalant, noncommittal way he holds onto your wrist to restrain you, you still only manage to move him a few steps, much to your dismay and rage.

And so, in a heat-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decision, you move to close your bedroom door on his face. While successful in keeping him out of your bedroom, you don’t even realize until seconds later that he’s still free to roam in your hallway, kitchenette, and living room, while you’ve essentially just locked yourself in.

Predictably, you can hear Leehan chuckling outside of your door as he makes this same realization.

“You know, if it was your goal to get me to leave, then I’m not sure locking yourself in your room really…” he begins to say, not able to keep the amusement out of his voice at the foolish mistake on your part. But, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place, he tones it down to say soberly, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”

You walk over to the side of your bedroom that’s opposite from the doorway, sitting down on the floor, determined to tune out whatever it is that Leehan is about to say. Maybe if you stay silent and let him tire himself out, he’ll eventually leave knowing that there’s nothing he can say to make up for how he’s made you feel.

“I”m not super good at explaining myself, or talking at all, honestly. I go on tangents and my mind is just…a giant fucking minefield. So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you.”

Leehan’s voice is distorted but nonetheless able to be heard clearly through the thin wood that makes up your door, so much so that you can clearly hear the crumpling noises of a paper being unraveled as he starts to read. 

“If you’re listening to me read this, it’s because I somehow managed to convince you to hear me out. Either that, or I broke into your dorm, which feels like the more likely option,” he says with almost no emotion behind the words, and against your own discipline, you can feel your lips twitching into a smirk automatically in reaction to his strange, off putting way of speaking.

“I know my insistence can come off as crass given how shitty of a person I’ve been to you. But I knew that today was move-out day, and I needed you to hear me out before you left.”

You hear him take a deep breath before continuing with the next part of his speech. “As you know, I’m a pretty fearless person. But when it comes to admitting my feelings for you, I’ve had a much harder time. Truthfully, since I met you, it’s been because of my own immaturity that I’ve seen other girls romantically. Even though I always knew my feelings for you were different, I pushed them away in the hopes of avoiding having to commit to anyone. When you told me how you really felt for me, truthfully, it scared me. I didn’t want to know what my life would look like if I decided to be with just one person.

“I thought that by rejecting you, by being away from you for this long, that my feelings for you would go away,” he remarks with the same sort of unfeeling, neutral tone to his voice, as if he knows the explanation behind his actions is unimportant given how they’ve impacted you. “I wanted to view you as just another name on a long list.”

But it’s with his next words that passion and sincerity and longing bleed into his voice all at once to say, “But it’s taken me this time of being away from you to realize that…I’m still not over you.”

After minutes of hanging onto his every word despite every inclination that has been telling you to do otherwise, it’s those last five words that hit you like a freight train. 

And you know it’s foolish and dumb to be believing anything that comes out of his mouth anymore, but you suppose it’s no different from all of the other times you continued to let him in even when he showed you so many times why you shouldn’t. 

Your reasoning remains the same – you just feel an irrational pull to him that is all-consuming, your heart connected to his in a way you can’t control. 

And it doesn’t help that everything he says next is all of the affirmation you’ve been wanting and needing him to give you throughout your entire time of sleeping together. “You deserve someone that’s going to treat you with respect. Someone that makes you feel loved and beautiful and desired. Someone with the courage to be vulnerable and who will care for you in your most vulnerable moments. And I’m sorry if you felt like you didn’t have that with me,” he remarks, and you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath throughout his spiel until your chest literally contracts from the lack of air to your lungs.

“But if you can find some way to forgive me, then I want to make us work,” he asserts pleadingly. And with the finality that it feels like follows that statement, you get the feeling that what he says next is no longer being read off the paper. 

Especially when you can hear what you think is the top of his head, leaned against the door with a small thunk as he quietly laments, “I want you, Y/N. Not just sexually, but for everything that makes you who you are. It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” 

It’s quiet after that, so much so that you can hear his small and broken breaths being let out against the wall. You hear what you think is the sound of his hand being brought up to rest next to his head. And as the feeling of being pulled in so many directions takes over you, your heart in a heated battle with your brain, it’s after a few moments of silence that you stand up and walk over towards the door. 

Leehan, observing the shadows of your footsteps through the little gap at the bottom of the door, perks up when it’s just a thin barrier of wood that keeps you from being face-to-face with one another.

You prepare yourself to be annoyed when you open the door in expectation that he will be his usual unreadable, unserious self. 

But it’s in surprise but also a little relief that what you find when you face him is the expression of a man who’s truly understood the gravity of his mistakes and feels shameful over them.

“You look really pretty,” he blurts out, the suddenness of the remark almost betraying your slowly but surely growing feelings of understanding towards him. But you also can’t help that his random candor makes you laugh, reminded of some of your earlier interactions as he sheepishly says, “Sorry, bad timing.”

Still standing a fair distance away from him, the tip of your toes just barely meeting the tip of his as you look down at them to avoid eye contact, you attempt to ease the tension of the moment with a shy but truthful, “Thank you, Leehan. For the compliment and for the apology.”

You can feel the heat of his gaze as he tilts his head to stare at you, his attention feeling hopeful but not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but in a way that has you compelled to be completely vulnerable and honest with him.

“I’m just…really scared that you’ll hurt me,” you confess somberly, and it still feels strange to even say things like this to him because you’ve spent so much time suppressing your negative emotions when it comes to Leehan. Scared that you’d lose his approval and feeling like you needed such approval to feel good about yourself.

But over time as your relationship progressed and you found yourself little by little regaining the sense of self that your interactions with Leehan robbed you of, you were able to realize that you didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like an object only useful if it was giving satisfaction to someone else.

And it was in resentment that over these two months of not speaking you felt like Leehan believed that, too.

But now after hearing him explain himself and believing genuinely that he wants to be with you, you now battle with the parts of you that are scared to believe him in fear of getting hurt and the parts of you that so badly also want to be in a relationship with him.

“I’m not scared,” he tells you, the confidence you’ve come to know him for coming out more strongly than ever before. “I’ve got you, remember?”

He then goes to place his two middle fingers underneath your chin, pushing your jaw upward so that you’re forced into eye contact. Staring into his endless and piercing eyes, it’s for the first time that you feel like you understand him in a non-sexual context. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you mumble quietly in reply.

And it’s as you feel your lips twitching into a content smile that Leehan leans in to kiss you, and you accept the gesture without question.

five months later

“I wanna go half on a baby with you.”

These are the words that Leehan remarks to your sleeping form as you lay comfortably beside him in bed, sleeping but getting roused into attention by the faint sound of his voice.

“A fish baby, of course,” he clarifies, though you don’t even register what he’s saying as you remain half-asleep. “I think the ones in my tank are getting lonely.”

It’s hard to tell sometimes whether Leehan is musing out loud to himself or talking directly to you, but either way, the deep tone of his voice wakes you up just the same. 

You lay on your stomach, opening one eye to find him sitting up on his elbow and staring down at you with a curious expression on his face. His hand, resting on your back, draws unintelligible figures on the skin that’s left uncovered by your night shirt. 

All in all, it's a pretty domestic, intimate scene, had you not glanced over at your phone to find how early it was.

“Leehan, it’s seven a.m,” you complain to your boyfriend who still just stares dreamily at your sleepy figure. “What are you yapping about?”

Too familiar with your morning grumpiness to be phased by it, it’s with an unmoved expression that Leehan casually replies, “Just about how much I want a baby with you.”

When you hear those words come out of Leehan’s mouth, you’re sure you must still be asleep and that this is just an incredibly vivid dream. Either that, or you’re dating the strangest person in the world. 

Given that both realities are entirely plausible, it’s in your tiredness and confusion that you sit up from the bed completely, staring at a relaxed Leehan with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that? I mean eventually, sure, but while we’re in school—”

“I was talking about fish,” he interrupts you to say, chuckling at your confused expression and giggling again when you pout at being laughed at. “But since you’re so eager, why don’t I put a baby in you right now?”

Your own laughter in reaction to his words is suppressed when he presses a large hand on your stomach, pushing you back down on the bed. He leans in to kiss you, but per usual, you refuse to make things easy for him.

Reaching behind your head, you grab a pillow and smack him in the face with it, creating a barrier between your bodies. “You’re such a weirdo,” you playfully quip, a designation he only takes in stride as he goes to throw the pillow somewhere on the floor.

“I’m your weirdo though,” he emphasizes, and it’s as you’re both smiling in satisfaction that he leans in to press his lips against yours.

And as his cold hands roam your warm body, you’re hit with a sudden wave of happiness as you acknowledge how far gone the days of having to wish for him to stay even fir minutes after you’ve had sex truly are. 

Because in the past five months since you’ve gotten together exclusively, not only is it routine for him to stay behind, but you also get to wake up together and experience these sleepy, romantic moments. 

The moments when he slowly kisses down your body, dragging his plush lips down your sternum until he’s positioned between your legs.

The moments when you pull softly at his hair as he languidly drags his tongue up and down your folds, begging you in his gruff, sleep-affected voice to come all over his face.

The moments when you could be sponning sideways, on top of him, or below him and he’ll still find a way to spread your legs apart, pressing his long, veiny cock inside of you until you’re overwhelmed by how full you are. 

The moments where his tiredness renders him impatient and he fucks into you so roughly that you can barely form words. 

The moments when he kisses you lazily through every thrust until the sex becomes so good that all you can manage is the occasional swipe of your tongue against his lips or a whimper into his mouth.

The moments when you reach your climax together and he rocks his come in and out of you like he never intends on pulling out.

The moment when you moan out his name, understanding why when you first met he insisted that to know it was a privilege. That to know him is a privilege.

And finally, your favorite, the moments when you either fall back asleep in each other’s hold or get up to shower the sleepiness and sweat off of each other. 

Today is one of those days that you relent to getting up and showering, convinced only by the fact that neither of you has a morning class, making it a perfect day to visit the pet shop conveniently located just a few miles from your college town.

“What about this one?” 

You turn to face Leehan in the fish tank lined aisle of the pet store, lips curling into a smile as you observe him pressing his face up to the glass in awe. As you come up to his side to view the brown-colored fish that have him so captivated, it’s in a surge of honesty that you reply, “Don’t you think they’re kind of…ugly?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend gasps dramatically in reaction to your words, even brushing his hand against the fish tank in a gesture akin to patting someone's head. “They can hear you, you know. I’m so sorry, fishies.”

Ignoring his childishness, you look around at the surrounding fish and sigh as you’re overwhelmed by all the different options. “Honestly, Leehan, you should just pick one. They all look the same to me.”

“But it should be something we both like,” he answers with a pout, circling the aisles a few more times before finally stopping at a tank in the very corner. 

Inside of it are an array of multi-colored fish, but the one that stands out to you is an entirely white one with a patch of vibrant red at the top of its head. 

It would be indistinguishable from a goldfish had it not been for its striking color and the appendage that looks almost like an inside-out brain on its head. 

A label beside the tank reads Oranda. 

“What about this one?” asks Leehan in curiosity, and in an almost alarming way, he points out the exact same fish you were just eyeing. 

You come around to the other side of the tank to view it from another angle, giggling innocently when you make eye-contact with Leehan through the distorted lens of the water. “It’s pretty,” you remark simply, and because Leehan has come to know you so well, he knows that the simple attribution is a sign of high praise from you.

“Should we make it ours?” he asks you officially, and though you’re certain that this is the fish you’ve been looking for, there’s one question popping up in your brain that you still can’t find the answer to.

“What should we name it?”

You both take a beat to ponder on the question. Leehan chimes in first, blurting out, “I know. Loony.”

At this, you scoff, unsure as to where he would have gotten such an idea from. “Are you trying to say that our child is crazy?” you quip in feigned offense. 

“No. It’s short for lunar eclipse. That’s when I knew we were gonna be more than just a one night stand,” he tells you sincerely, and with that context you find yourself becoming quickly attached to both the name and the fish who you take home in a plastic bag only moments later.

You allow Leehan to take the lead in homing Loony, a process that involves lots of complicated jargon about adjusting the water temperature and changing the salinity that you mostly pretend to understand as he explains it to you. 

And when you are finally able to sit side by side in front of the tank and watch through the glass as Loony swims among the other fish, it’s with an adoring tone of voice that you hear Leehan say, “It’s pretty, awesome, right?”

At the sound of his voice, you turn to face him, and without being entirely conscious of it, you simply take in his features and how content he looks to be here, with you and with these fishes.

“Yeah,” you reply, laying down and resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s awesome.”

taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amerecerasus @cadidupped @suhovhs @lionhanie @taesanmoon @revelettre @s9nwoo @brachioswrld @moneygal0re @karatttttt

thank you all sm for your support on this fic <3 your reactions, feedback, and compliments have meant the world

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝐚 ‘𝔀𝓮’ 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧 ‘𝓾𝓼’ ˚⊹♡

downbad!enhypen maknae line x fem!reader content(s): fluff, slight angst in noo’s (he cries :c), enhypen being down bad, like whipped for (y/n), (y/n) is sassy and sulky, enha being so cute i want to chomp, petnames (honey, kitten whiskers—it’s not serious pls believe me) type: oneshot

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: in which (y/n) doesn’t call them her boyfriend because they haven’t officially asked her to embark on an official courtship˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

⋆˙𐙚 K.SUNOO 𐙚˙⋆ "...pretty please. pretty, pretty please?"

“(y/n)-ah~” he sings as he enters her room from the living room. it’s supposed to be a stay-at-home date at her apartment and yet, here she is, laid on her stomach on her bed and leaving him alone outside. “what are you doing~?”

“nothing. just playing with my phone,” she casually answers, lackluster, without a single glance to the blonde boy who pouts.

he sits beside her, legs criss-crossed as he watches her scroll. and the anxiety bubbles again. he feels nauseous. it’s been more than a week since she’s been acting this way. she was so sweet and loving before—clinging onto him just as he does with her, showing him her ootds and him gushing at them, and both of them enjoying sweet little lunch dates at school—so what happened for all that to go away?

and as if fate too is against him, he looks at her screen right when she likes a post of jungwon and his heart shatters.

since when? since when were she and jungwon mutuals on social media? as far as he can remember, (y/n) didn’t follow any guy except for him and as much as sunoo said he didn’t mind it if she wanted to follow other men, he can’t help but feel relieved and prideful knowing that he has that specialness to him—something that only he has, and no other guy does.

his mouth dries and throat tightens, brows knit and eyes already feeling hot from the emotions threatening to spill. “is…is something wrong with us?”

“what do you mean?” (y/n) asks and still, she doesn’t look at him.

sunoo bites his lip, chewing on the rosy nub for a second and gulps. “i feel like you don’t want me anymore…”

“HUH?” the girl’s mouth is wide open as she nearly shouts her response���sitting up and turning to him promptly. “of course, i want you! why would you think i—oh…oh, sun…”

her voice quietens to a soothing whisper when she sees him all flushed in the cheeks and nose as his eyes brim with tears. she cups his face—smooth, milky skin pressed warmly against her palms and he lets out a shaky breath.

“th-this was supposed to be a date,” sunoo says sulkily, trying to keep his composure by acting petulant and yet the hot, fresh globules that cascade past his lower lash line down to her hands belie his attitude. “but you don’t even want to look at me.”

“sunoo,” (y/n) starts and lets out a breath. “this is stupid. i should’ve just said it.”

“what do you mean?”

“the reason why i’m acting distant and all is because it dawned onto me that we haven’t made things official. we confessed but there was no follow-up or anything, we just started going out but we didn’t really like…officiate things,” she explains and sighs guiltily when she sees his glossy foxy eyes staring at her with surprise. “i’m sorry. i was being petty. i mean, not everyone does things traditionally anymore at this generation. if i wanted it so bad i should’ve been the one to as—”

“let me be your boyfriend,” sunoo blurts out, effectively shutting her up and she gapes with confusion while his hands raise to hold her wrists. “let me be your boyfriend…please. pretty please. pretty, pretty please?”

with his lips jutted and head tilted into her palm, he blinks at her with those beautiful honey eyes of his and she thinks she has to be completely insane not to submit. she giggles and the melodic sound perks him up instantly—searching into her eyes frantically for her confirmation and the sight of her single nod, he engulfs her into his arms.

“thank you, my girlfriend! the most beautiful girl in the world! the most sweet, most loving, most gorgeous, most warm, most kind—!”

it’s now her turn to shut him up by pressing a surprise kiss, lips molding into each other’s as his widened eyes slowly flutter shut. his arms loosen and body melts as they fall onto the mattress together.

(y/n) pulls away and is positively amused at the sight of her boyfriend’s glowing face—his eyes half-lidded as they trace her features with a lovesick gaze.

gosh, she’s beautiful. she’s so, so beautiful and so, so dangerous. the fact that a singular person can cause such havoc within him is concerning.

but gosh, it’s times worse to lose her. he was already eyeing the window behind her in case she was to reject him earlier. thank goodness, he didn’t have to proceed with giving himself a concussion, or worse.

“sunoo?? why are you crying? was the kiss bad?” (y/n) asks, worried, when heavy tears suddenly flow sideways on his face and onto her sheets as they lay together and he shakes his head.

“no, i’m just—so happy,” he chokes out, accompanied by a giggle as he sniffles and wipes his eyes but the stream doesn’t cease. “i thought i’d lose you.”

“oh, honey,” the other coos, touched by his sensitivity, and the endearing term only makes his cries to thicken, now wailing entirely as he tries to hide into her pillow and under her blanket.

but with the help of (y/n)’s tickles, the room is then filled with his shrieking laughter and ends with a happy pillow fight and cuddle session.

“by the way…since when did you follow jungwon?”

“oh! just a few days actually. it started because i wanted to ask him about you. you know, consultation and stuff.”

“oh…okay.”

“do you…want me to unfollow him?”

“…no, it’s fine! it’s completely fine.”

“you’re pouting.”

“am not.”

“…i’ll unfollow him.”

“oh! you will?? :D i mean!! you don’t need to but, do whatever you want :>>”

“…you sly fox.”

⋆˙𐙚 Y.JUNGWON 𐙚˙⋆ “i love you”

he’s mature and responsible just as he is playful and mischievous. but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to maintain his sangfroid all the time—especially when his loved one is acting as if they’re just friends.

jungwon’s fidgeting in his seat, unable to sit still as (y/n) sits across him around the circular table, surrounded by the other members of the club.

when the club first announced that they’re gonna have a lunch together, he was excited—thinking that it’s the perfect opportunity to declare his relationship with (y/n). they’d sit side by side and act all lovey dovey, subtly of course, but people would have to be blind to not get the hint that they’re together.

but against his expectations, (y/n) finds herself a seat away from him and to make matters worse, she’s sandwiched between two of their flirty, pesky male members.

his hands clench under the table as jaw tightens when one of them leans closer to (y/n) to ask about the menu, her being too engrossed in choosing her own meal that she doesn’t seem to notice.

“hey, you good? you seem a little tense,” one of the members ask him and he puts on a strained smile but enough to show his dimple.

“yeah. just hungry,” won says and eventually the ordering process follows when the waiter arrives.

jungwon’s eyes almost never leave (y/n)—staring at her while she lists out her order, staring at her when he’s listing his order and even after they’re done, his cat-like eyes are transfixed on the girl who’s slowly starting to get nervous under his intense gaze.

“i’m gonna go to the restroom,” she excuses herself and escapes but just right after she enters the corridor, away from people’s eyes, her wrist is captured in another’s hand—making her turn with eyes wide and lips parted in mild shock. “jungwon?? i—what are you doing?”

“why aren’t you sitting next to me?” he asks directly, wanting to resolve whatever issue there is as soon as possible.

her brows knit as lips pull to a smirk, amused yet incredulous. “do i have to? we didn’t agree on anything beforehand.”

“then i’ll sit with you,” the other declares, loosening his grip around her wrist to lower it down to her hand—entangling their fingers together. his mien is nothing short of conviction but at her silence, his knitted brows soften as his pupils shake slightly. "...if you let me."

his abrupt polite meekness makes her smile, finding him oh, so deadly adorable that she just wants to chomp on his cheek.

"of course, i'll let you, wonnie. what makes you think i won't?" (y/n) sounds, the cadence in her voice compelling him to remove his stare from his shoes and to her eyes, only to gulp and shy away after. "hm? oh no, did the cat's tongue finally get caught instead?"

jungwon's feline eyes widen in surprise when she pulls him by their joint hands—him stumbling over but before he can fall flat on his face on the floor, she spins him to the wall, one hand pressed on his chest and the other still intertwined with his.

it's always like this. he thinks he has it all figured out, he thinks he has the upper hand and that he'll lead everything to its rightful place. but then, she comes in and all his objectives, his points and control comes crashing down to smithereens.

and unlike him, she doesn't even need to try. she just has that power on him and although he'll never admit it publicly, his actions prove it all. despite his cuddly appearance, he's this figure of authority and he's proven that time and time again. he's meant to lead, and yet the moment (y/n) comes in, he turns to mush—both brain and body.

"i just...well, i noticed that you seem a bit distant," jungwon brings up and he hangs his head down, too bashful and flustered to meet her gaze that strikes into him in a way it seems to uncover his deepest secrets. "and i thought that i may have upset you. i'm sorry."

(y/n) tilts her head and brows lift. "you do know that i'm not a fan of apologies when people don't know what they're apologising for, right?"

jungwon snaps his face up with eyes round. "i-i—i know that. but i can't think of anything. i've wrecked my brain, i've thought of everything and still! i can't seem to figure out what it is. please, tell me. i'll fix it! i promise, i can do better. hm? hm, (y/n)-ie?"

his bottom lip sticks out as he pitifully blinks his sparkly doe eyes to her and she knows he's trying to get her to surrender using his beauty privilege. and darn right, she will. that's one of the things she loves about him, his mischief hidden under an angel face.

"you're so sneaky," (y/n) scoffs but the smile that forms on her face acts as a sort of assurance, an agreement, and jungwon's own grin appears.

he still takes cautious steps though—gently prodding on her crown with his nose, then to her forehead and to her nose. at her stillness, his smile widens and eyes shut, relief taking over as he buries himself into the crook of her neck.

a few giggles sound from her and he only nuzzles more at them, wanting to be graced by her joy time and time again but then a worry crosses his mind.

"still...you were upset, weren't you? will you tell me why?" he asks quietly, muffled by her shoulder and he instinctively presses soft, warm pecks on the exposed skin up to her neck.

she shudders pleasantly at the fuzzy feeling and lets out a gentle exhale. "nothing...i was just throwing a tantrum, i guess. i mean, you haven't asked me to be your girlfriend and i got sad. kinda. i don't know."

jungwon suddenly grapples her shoulders, not roughly of course, but enough to allow him to detach her from him as he looks at her with his jaw slack open and eyes twice their size. "i haven't...? i haven't! oh my gosh! i'm so sorry, honey! (y/n), i know this might be late but will you be my—"

"yes, wonnie," (y/n) chuckles out at his panicked and frantic gestures before abruptly seizing his lips into a kiss—sucking the air out of him as his eyes flutter shut.

jungwon's heart jumps, knocking itself against its cage as it too seems to want to kiss (y/n) by itself and his head falls to the side slightly to deepen their link. his hand flies to tenderly cup her cheek while his free arm clings around the back of her waist to pull her closer.

and at that moment, his senses are numbed to all but her.

safe to say that when they came back to the table, everyone already knew about jungwon and (y/n)'s status—well, at least they knew of won's feelings first. they're surprised that his stare hasn't actually lasered through her skull from the intensity of it. and much to jungwon's delight, he gets to have (y/n) all to himself right beside him, and not sandwiched in between two dirty, flirty and intrusive flies.

and now, instead of thinking about his laser eyes, people are wondering when his face will break from how wide his happy, giggly grin is—dimples deep like blackholes as he practically buzzes gleefully with (y/n) so close to him.

“i love you,” he whispers at her and (y/n) smacks his thigh softly from under the table, reminding him of the presences of other people to which he just snickers at—boba eyes shooting hears at the side of her face as she tries to focus on her food.

⋆˙𐙚 N.RIKI 𐙚˙⋆ “hush, kitten whiskers”

“thanks, riki!” (y/n) chirps before ruffling the younger’s hair—a gesture he’d usually welcome, if it isn’t in a way where one rewards a young child for practically anything.

he pulls a feeble smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes and watches as the girl enters her lecture room with her bag that he carried for her.

it’s not an unusual thing, to have her ruffling his hair or cooing at him since he is after all, younger than her. but after they confessed to each other, those gestures lessened and instead, she treated him more of like a boyfriend, a man, rather than some junior who needs to be taken care of and guided by a senior.

and riki loves that. the fact that she trusts him to be reliable. but then after a while, she reverted back to how she was acting before—reminding him of their ranks of senior and junior, of older and younger, baby and babysitter.

and oh, does he hate it.

not (y/n). never (y/n). but the way she’s back to babying him is making him pull on his hair and smash his head into a wall.

he’s capable, responsible, dependable. he can be her pillar.

‘i’m not a child,’ he thinks as he stares at her taking a seat before he retreats.

hands in his pockets, he tries to think what must’ve happened to make her go back to how they were before. and that’s when it hit him.

if he wants (y/n) to treat him like a man, he has to show her how truly manly he is. a smirky grin forms on his face at the realization and just like that, a wonderful(?) plan is concocted.

(y/n)’s finished with classes? oh, riki’s already waiting outside—leaning against the wall with one leg in front of the other and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

the girl halts in her tracks as a soft furrow forms at the other’s model pose. “uhh, riki? what are you doing?”

“oh, (y/n). done already?” he’ll sound, feigning ignorance as he pushes himself off the wall. “pass me your bag. i’ll carry it for you.”

she’ll slowly do as he asks, partly cautious, due to his odd behaviour and he’ll then dangle it over his shoulder—effortlessly lifting it with a hand.

(y/n) wants to buy something? riki will pay.

“but this is supposed to be my treat,” (y/n) insists as she looks up at riki who’s adamantly shaking his head with plump lips pursed. “riki, as your senio—”

“hush, kitten whiskers,” he’ll cut her off with a finger pressed on her lips, effectively silencing her before internally cringing at himself. “i should be the one spoiling you.”

“ri—”

“here’s my card,” the young man will say as he passes the object to the cashier with style—flashing his striking right side profile to (y/n) for more charm points and deliberately ignoring the face of disgust and incredulity worn by the girl.

(y/n) needs help getting something off the high shelf? don’t worry, riki will spawn in the area.

“you want this one?” he’ll ask lowly, deep bass voice rumbling through his chest and making the girl shudder as she feels the vibrations against her back. he’ll smirk at the reaction before pulling out the book.

(y/n) turns and lifts her chin to meet his face, blinking rapidly as her fluster fills at the proximity. “yeah…”

riki’s lips curve upwards at her bashfulness, especially so when he flickers his gaze between her own. “here you go.”

she accepts it as he slips it between their figures—not wanting to step away from her just to revel more at her shyness, her timidity towards him. finally, she’s getting it.

he’s a strong, mighty man. not just a junior, or a guy who’s younger than her. he’s capable. he can be her knight in shining armour. she understands now.

“thanks, ki!” (y/n) exclaims and her hand reaches up to pat his head, ruffling his hair slightly before she walks away—completely oblivious to him turning to stone before shattering to dust then being swept away by the janitor and ending sadly in the bin.

she hasn’t gotten it.

however, nothing shalt stand in between him and his journey for justice and love!

which is why he’s now sitting on the couch of (y/n)’s living room while she’s in the kitchen, making some drinks for them both. he’s restless, fingers tapping on his knees before he stands to his feet.

how can he tell (y/n) not to baby him? how can he ask her to look at him differently? as an equal standing and not of hoobae and sunbae? as boyfriend and girlfriend like what they actually are?

CRASH!

his legs move quicker than he can think—carrying him across rooms and to the kitchen as his eyes frantically search around.

“(y/n)! what happened??” he asks and gasps at seeing her kneeled on the floor to pick up shards of a broken mug.

“ah, riki! the water was just hotter than i thought so i lost my grip,” (y/n) chuckles nervously but the other can only frown as he watches her hand hover a shattered piece.

he promptly strides towards her, crouching right beside. “let me.”

“no, you’ll get hurt.”

“i’m not a kid,” he declares and stares her straight in the eye. her lips part and breath hitches at the fervor in his gaze to which he then repeats, “i am not a kid. i can do stuff like this. let me take care of you.”

he keeps the eye contact a little longer, ensuring that she won’t try and pick the pieces up herself before finally pulling away to do it for her.

he does it swiftly yet precisely, not letting a single sharp edge graze his skin before wrapping the broken parts in a tissue to safely toss them to the bin. then, grabbing a cloth he starts wiping up the spill and finishes with washing and drying his hand.

through all this, (y/n) only watches from the side. riki has always been good looking and attractive in each and every way, but seeing him like this—so capable in a domestic way, in such a solicitous manner in her own home is…different. a good different.

“and this, this is the bare minimum, (y/n). this is nothing. i am capable of so many things. i can take care of you in so many ways—not just how i do in school. if you just let me show what i have to offer,” riki says with conviction as he saunters to the girl before resting his hands on her smaller shoulders. he exhales through his nose as lips pull to an endearing smile at her awed expression. “i am your boyfriend, after all.”

unlike his expectations—in which (y/n) will end up blushing and hiding into his chest—she instead smirks as her previously rounded eyes relax to a more siren-like sharpness and head tilts.

“are you, though?” she asks with a teasing lilt and question marks float above the other’s crown. “when?”

“when what?” riki queries back, now confused and slightly worried at her rejection.

“when did you ask—to be my boyfriend?”

the younger scoffs in amusement. “when we confessed!”

“oh, did you?” (y/n) sings and the doubt in the other’s head heightens, evident from his faltering smile and rapidly blinking eyes. and that’s when she understands. “don’t tell me…the reason why you’ve been acting extra weird and hard these days is because you think i look at you as a kid?”

riki clears his throat. “were you not…?”

“ki, no!” the girl laughs out loud, almost doubling over but instead stops with her head hitting his chest. riki thinks he might be going insane to be feeling all fluttery for someone when that someone is literally laughing at him. “the reason why i’ve been treating you that way is because i’m treating you the way i did before we confessed—as junior and senior.”

“b-but why?” he argues, coming out whinier than he expected as lips jut and making her giggle.

“because you haven’t asked me out yet. i mean…i can be the one to ask you but i know how you love taking the lead so—”

muah!

her eyes widen at his abrupt peck on her lips and at her surprised mien, he repeats the gesture—peppering kisses all over her face until she’s a giggling mess.

“so, my picky princess,” he teases which earns a joking glare but he quickly diminishes it by pulling her in by the waist and bending forward—literally sweeping her off her feet as she almost dangles from his arm. “would you grace me the honour of embarking in an official courtship?”

(y/n) snorts, amused before grabbing his face in her hand, making his lips pucker. “wow, expensive words, huh? what a noble guy.”

“i try,” he chuckles and lowers his forehead to meet with hers. “so? what does her majesty say?”

“hmm~ if you promise to never call me kitten whiskers again, i’ll accept,” she emphasizes and he laughs.

“i thought you like shrek??”

“yeah? but not kitten whiskers!”

“mrow!”

“STOP!”

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hyung line ver.

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! ngl not really much of a fan at this one but yeah :/ motivations just went ZIP! along the way :(( but if you still enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SUPERNATURAL danielle marsh x reader

↳ warnings idol!au stream supernatural!!

he vividly remembers danielle mentioning that ador is debuting a soloist, her remembers how excited she was about it, she couldn’t wait to have a new person under her entertainment and seeing her excitement made him excited as well.

who knew one soloist could ruin everything.

as soon as she debuted her name was everywhere, her face was everywhere, her songs were trending, brands were already wanting her and it’s been a while since a soloist has gotten this successful making it all more impressive.

her remembered how danielle rushed into his dorm and turned on the tv to show him the music video, there was a bright smile on her face, you would think the young girl on the tv hung the stars in the sky with how much danielle was obsessing over her.

“isn’t it so good?” she asked him leaning into his side

it was good really good, he understood why the girls name was everywhere, “your company really knows how to do concepts huh?”

danielle giggled in response, “I’m meeting her tomorrow to film a dance with her, I’m so nervous isn’t she pretty?”

“not as pretty as you.”

✮

“yn was so nice yesterday,” danielle said on their date, “I was so nervous, I wonder if she realized, that’s so embarrassing.”

“she probably didn’t,” he said squeezing her hand.

“hopefully,” she responded before her eyes trail behind him and widening, “oh my, she’s here.”

he turned around and indeed she was, yn in all her glory walking into cafe with who looked like her mangers trailing behind her “oh.”

she stood nice and pretty while one of her managers ordered her eyes trailing to side only to make eye contact with him and danielle, he could hear danielle gasp when yn tapped her manager before signaling something.

they watched as yn made her way over to the table giving danielle a bright smile, “dani! hey,”

the way danielle’s face heated up you’d think she was sick, “h-hey yn, what a coincidence seeing you,” she says trying her best to keep eye contact with the new idol.

“it is…” yn starts to say something but then looks at him and back at danielle, then a small smile makes its way to her face a teasing one, “are you guys..”

her furrows his eyebrows when danielle straightens her posture and cuts off yn, “what brings you here?” she asks laughing nervously.

he watches as yn and danielle have a conversation in front of him like he isn’t there, “well I better get going the drinks are probably ready, I would invite you but I wouldn’t want to ruin your date.”

yn gives danielle pat on the shoulder and turns away but is cut off by danielle getting up from her seat, “wait!”

“huh?”

“we were actually warping up, I would love to join you.” he looks at danielle confused and she gives him a look that says please I want to be her friend.

he reluctantly nods his head and then looks at yn, “yeah we were just wrapping up, go have fun.”

yn just gives him a nod and links her arm with danielle who flashes him a smile before rushing off with yn.

he sits in his seat for a while going over the recent events, that was weird, maybe he was just looking too into it, that’s what danielle would probably tell him.

✮

he definitely wasn’t too into it.

danielle wasn’t answering his calls all day, so like what a good boyfriend would do he immediately went to the new jeans dorms to check on her.

the door opens the reveal hanni, she gives him an awkward smiles and doesn’t invite him in immediately, “hey bro, what are you doing here?”

he stuffs his hands in his pockets, “just checking on danielle, she hasn’t answered my texts all day.”

hanni awkwardly scratches her neck and looks off to the side, “oh really? that’s weird…”

the way she said it threw him off.

“yeah, it is weird she always answers, do you know where she is?”

“do I? I do!” hanni fidgets and he’s starting to get really concerned.

“hanni…are you okay?”

“yes! of course I am why wouldn’t I be, dani is in her room come in!”

he slowly walks in and heads towards danielle’s but is stopped by hanni.

“knock first, you know.”

“um, okay.”

he makes his way to danielle’s and he hears her laughs and giggles which is pretty on the nose for the girl.

hearing the girls laugh made him completely forget anything hanni said and opens her door.

honestly what he didn’t expect to see yn the new superstar on his girlfriends bed laying on her head on danielles legs both of them in cute matching melody and kuromi pjs.

both girls look up, yn raises a brow at the man while danielle looks at him panicked.

there’s silence before yn awkwardly clears her throat, “hey…”

“hey…”

danielle carefully lifts yn’s head from her legs and gets up from her bed walking towards him and grabbing his hand and pulling him out the room with her closing her door carefully.

“hey, what are you doing here?”

he looks at her door before shrugging, “I’ve been calling me texting you all day and it was unlike you to not answer so I decided to check on you, I was worried but you seem perfectly fine.”

“you called and texted?” danielle askes before giving him an apologetic smile, “I’m so sorry, it’s just I invited yn to sleepover today so I’ve been hanging out with her, I guess I got too caught up with her.”

“oh really?” he asks, “yn just seems to be everywhere huh? on billboards, on the tv and with my girlfriend?”

“it’s not like that and you know that.” danielle sighs before grabbing both of his hands, “I’m sorry and I will make it up to you.”

“promise?”

“I promise, now stop being dramatic and go back home,” she giggled.

maybe he was being dramatic.

✮

he wasn’t being dramatic.

he sits with his members as he watches yn perform at the award show everyone screaming and singing the lyrics to her her songs including new jeans who sits in front of them.

he watches his now ex girlfriend and her group sing along to their company mates songs, dancing and screaming her name.

“this must be painful,” his member whispers to him as the rest of them dance and sing to the voice, “she really stole your girlfriend huh?” he teases.

“shut up.”

she really did steal his girlfriend and it’s like it can’t escape the both of them because of how popular new jeans and yn is alone.

screw you ador.

yn had to be supernatural with how fast she stole danielle, she just had to be.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> smut, oral / receiving, words -> 1.8K

abstract -> “that white tiger has chosen you as a mate.”

seonghwa’s perspective

“What has he been saying to push your heat early?” Hongjoong asked me and I sighed. “Don’t wanna say” I muttered, making him laugh. His fever has already passed a week ago… now Yeosang has been endlessly teasing me, especially after seeing the endless hickies Hongjoong left. 

Undoubtedly the three were annoyed with the marks but they wouldn’t say anything to Hongjoong. Putting everything behind us, they respected him as the one of the oldest and even acted like the oldest. While me and Yeosang kept on butting heads… just not as mean as before but the teasing about my heat isn’t leading anywhere good. 

“You should tell her your heat is coming up, see what ends up happening” he suggested while he was writing in that notebook. He wasn’t any more innocent… he still smelled like her even after it being a week. The two still had hickies and he had scratches from only what I saw. 

I couldn’t stop imagining just where this bastard was able to touch…

“If you’re going to get horny by your own thoughts then do it outside our room,” he said and I scoffed. Rooming with Hongjoong was… definitely an experience. However, the other three had their own rooms… even though Wooyoung was currently in the process of moving into San’s room for memory help. 

While Yeosang stayed by himself still… I wonder if I asked her to have my own room if she’d let me. 

“This is not my fault” Yeosang corrected and I scoffed. “It’s not my fault you get so horny from words, I swear you're even more desperate than Wooyoung '' he said while scrolling on his tablet not even looking at me. 

“Besides I bet you couldn’t even do anything right,” he said and I growled. “You do know I'm not a virgin right?” I corrected and he laughed. “Having sex with humans is different from hybrids. Hybrids cum faster, humans are a little harder” he said and I rolled my eyes. 

“Besides, you'd need to be careful with her,” he muttered. “That’s just you, especially with being a canine,” I said while looking in the fridge. “Just say you're small” he grinned and I started to get annoyed. 

“Besides… I'm honestly surprised just how marked up Hongjoong left her” he said and I agreed. I knew he’s always been possessive of things he owns but… he’s never done that with his heat partners. 

“Then again I guess tigers are possessive. Too bad for you” he said and I guess he was right… “Yeosang!” I heard as I saw Wooyoung whine. “What?” he asked and scoffed. “y/nnie is setting up doctor’s appointments…” he said and I shuddered. 

“Already?” he asked and the fox nodded. “It’s been almost a year for San and me, while the tigers need a check-up and apparently so do you,” he said…

How was I supposed to hide my heat from the doctors?

“I hate this place” San muttered and I agreed. We were all seated in the waiting room with other hybrids and their owners. “You’ve got attention,” Hongjooong said and I noticed some of the female hybrids eyeing me up… it's the pre-heat smell, isn’t it?

Yeosang just laughed and I smacked his head. “You really want to fight here?” he threatened and I heard y/n sigh. We both just click out tongues and sink into our seats. 

“Okay, Seonghwa?” I heard the doctor call and y/n stood up. “Yeosang, Hongjoong you’re in charge,” she said as she smiled next to me trying to comfort me. 

The check up seemed extremely slow as they took my weight, height, temperature, etc. “You’re running a little hot” the nurse mentioned. y/n seemed confused… I didn’t want to tell her my heart was being pushed early. 

“Have you had your heat yet?” the nurse asked and I shook my head. “Hmm, we’ll do a check up for that otherwise Dr. Kim will come here shortly” she said and we nod. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked as she now stood up in front of me feeling my forehead. 

My thoughts were running wild while I looked up at her… “Perfectly fine” I answered just… needy. “Is your heat coming early?” she muttered and I shrugged. 

“Miss y/n, Dr. Kim would like to speak to you”

I was escorted back now that y/n was talking to the doctor. “Did they find you out?” Yeosang said and I scoffed. “Where's the rest?” I asked and he explained that they were taken already for checkups. “You'd have to take the suppressants” he taunted and I had to refrain from hitting him in public. 

“Yeosang… shut up,” I said while gritting my teeth and he laughed. “Besides, I doubt you could get her through your heat,” he said and I was confused. “What was that supposed to mean?!” I said and he chuckled.

“I doubt you could even make her cum to begin with,” he said and I sighed. Just when I thought his attitude couldn’t get worse. “You know what, I bet I could do better than you” I challenged and he looked at me with an unreadable expression. 

“You know, not even Wooyoung and San have found what makes her completely putty in your arms, what makes you think you can?” he taunted. 

“What’s your problem?” I said and he shrugged. “Don’t you ever get the feeling that we're too similar?” he asked and I sighed but nodded. “A little too much sometimes,” I said and he scoffed. 

“How about a bet?” he asked and I waited for him to continue. “If you can make her cum so many times she either taps out or passes out then I'll share her with you” he offered and I felt my eyes widen. 

“What?” I asked and he scoffed. “She’ll never approach you first, I’ll talk to her about helping your heart if… and only if she wants to. Besides, make her uncomfortable or hurt her, and I'll kill you” he threatened and I nodded. Not like I would hurt her.

“But if she does disagree… masturbation is always an option, hyung~”

y/n’s perspective

“What do you mean I should help Seonghwa with his heat?” I asked Yeosang as San and Wooyoung looked grumpy as always. “He’s getting worse, and his constant whining and even his scent are getting annoying besides... He also doesn't want to go to a hybrid hotel since he is compliant about diseases and dirt” he said and I sighed.

“But I don't want to betray you,” I said, feeling like I would be cheating on them. “We love you y/n… but honestly Seonghwa and even Hongjoong are wedging themselves into our relationship like how I did,” he said and I sighed.

“You like them…” he said and I looked down.

“There's no shame in that… we’ll get along with them. We already do… but that white tiger has chosen you as a mate.” Yeosang reassured me. He already chose me as a mate?

“But if you feel uncomfortable then you don't have to agree. You’re more important” Yeosang reassured me and I nodded.

“I'll help him” I agreed and he kissed me before I went off to Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s room. I let Yeosang have my bed for the amount of time Seonghwa’s heat lasts…

“Seonghwa?” I said and he opened the door. 

“y/n?” he said and I smiled. “Yeosang said you were in heat,” I said and he covered his face with the door. “I don't want a suppressant or a hybrid hotel… and you don't need to force yourself to help me, '' he said and I smiled.

“I’ll help you, Hwa,” I said and I even saw his eyes dilate.

“Are you sure?” he asked and I nodded. “Can I kiss you?” he asked and I nodded as he smashed his lips on mine. He was desperate and even forced his tongue through my lips… 

I was also lifted up but Seonghwa did not stop kissing me until he finally let me breathe and immediately went from my neck. 

“Hwa '' I whined as he sucked at my neck and continued marking me until I felt the soft bed on my back. “This is Hongjoong’s be– mmphm” he kissed me again as I tugged at his shirt.

He took it off and now started unbuttoning my pajamas and took off my pants. “So pretty… you’re so perfect,” 

no one’s perspective

“Can I?” he asked as he wanted to take off your panties already hooking his fingers around them. You nod, giving him silent permission when he took them off and went straight for my pussy. 

Everything was so overwhelming… and out of all hybrids he was determined to make you cum the fastest just on foreplay in his mind competing with the Doberman. 

“Hwa!” you moaned as you felt your orgasm hit. It looked like a cat lapping up milk… he wouldn't stop and continued to rub your clit and lick and nip at your pussy until you felt me close again. 

“Seonghwa!” you yelled and he moaned as you gripped his hair and ears. His moans cause you to feel vibrations making you cum again. Now adding a finger into you he continued to do a hither movement until he could add another finger that's when his true intention came to play. 

Your moans got louder as you came… your thighs trying to close around his hand when he didn’t stop. “Cum again, please” he begged as he kissed your clit “Hwa… I need… a break” I said and he chuckled.

“One more time, princess,” he said as he now rubbed my clit and g-spot. I only felt this familiar feeling with the Doberman hybrid.

He was proud to get that reaction out of you. He now licked his fingers clean while you tried your best to catch your breath. You suddenly however feel his tongue clean your thighs up before going in again and cleaning your pussy.

“Let's get this off,” he said as he took your bra off and started playing with your boobs. Your moans were evidence that everything felt like too much. That you could even feel how hot his hands were due to his heat, his tail wrapping around your thigh, his body heat was overwhelming.

However, tigers while in heat are very vocal and possessive, not to mention competitive. You wondered if a certain doberman or even his tiger companion played a part in this behavior from your most behaved hybrid. 

“Ready, princess?” he asked as he lined himself up, giving him the permission he slowly adjusted… out of the four hybrids he was the biggest causing a whine at the slight burn in which he just kissed your face saying sweet praises to help distract the burning sensation of the stretch…

Slowly moving and squirming, wanting him to continue cause him to chuckle… “Don’t be impatient, princess~” he said as he pushed down on your stomach where he was making you moan and squirm. 

“I’m gonna make you cum but be patient… I’ll fuck you until you only remember me, not your other lovers”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[gguk-n]

Angst with Lando and he says “please don't cry, i can't stand to see you cry"

Thank you for the ask! I hope I was able to do it justice. There is implied smut. Reader's POV

Fragile Bonds

I could say it now, I officially hated going out. It has less to do with the fact that we've been at every club across the globe since the season started and more to do with the fact that Lando attracts attention. He was a gorgeous man with a career in F1, so it was a given that people would be attracted to him. What I didn't expect was how much we would go out to drink. Neither me nor Lando are huge drinkers but he can never seem to say no to a party. So, here I was trying to be a supportive girlfriend while my boyfriend was on the DJ booth, remixing some songs.

I will agree, the first time he did it, it was very hot; watching Lando DJ, even the second time around. Right now, all I saw was red. The girl at the DJ booth was making herself too comfortable with 'my' boyfriend. The way her hands would rest on his biceps or the lingering touches she left on his shoulder or back. Was Lando blind or oblivious to what was happening? Did he forget that he had a girlfriend? I am not the jealous type but I am terribly territorial about my stuff and the people I love. I love Lando too much, and this bitch was making me so annoyed.

So, I took matters into my own hands and went towards the stage only to be rudely pushed away and scolded by the guards and the lady on the booth. I told them that was my boyfriend and I wanted to speak to him, she laughed at my face. What the fuck was Lando doing and why did he not see his own girlfriend? After a couple more harsh words from the lady, I screamed Lando's name which seemed to make him to look at me, a loopy smile on his lips. God, I wanted to smack his pretty face. I was pissed, I told him I was leaving and without waiting for his reply, I turned on my heels and left the club heading back to the hotel.

Once back, I took my clothes and make up off. I had tears streaming down my face. This wasn't the first time Lando had forgotten about me. He would always end up surrounded by all the people and while soaking in their attention, forgot about me. To me, he was the most important thing, to him, I felt like a commodity. My eyes were red from rubbing them too hard and the lump in my throat did not seem to go away no matter how hard I screamed into my pillow. My social media was also filled with pictures and videos of Lando from the party.

I don't know how long it was since I came back, I had stopped looking at the watch at some point. I quickly wiped away my tears when I heard the click of the door. I was going to pretend to be asleep, I didn't want to deal with Lando right now. Before I could act, my face was cupped in between two rough calloused hands while his thumbs tenderly rubbed my cheeks. "Why did you leave?" Lando asked. "I was tired" I squeaked out. Lando holding me like this made my eyes prick, I pushed him away while sitting up. He could see the tears in my eyes, I mean my vision was blurry. "You're so blind. I hate you." I said, I didn't in fact hate him, it's just that he made me angry. "No you don't" Lando chided. This annoyed me so much. "Why did you let her touch you? Why didn't you tell her I was your girlfriend when I tried to talk to you?" I asked. "I only saw you when I turned around, baby. I didn't know she was touching me, if I did, I would've stopped her." Lando reasoned. "Really, because, she was literally hanging from your arms, running her hands all over you and you didn't care." I said. "I really didn't notice her, I was looking at you the whole night" he said. "If you were looking at me the whole night, you would've noticed your girlfriend walking towards you." I said while angrily wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Baby, please don't cry, I can't stand to see you cry." Lando said while trying to hug me. "Doesn't feel like it Lan, you seemed to have forgotten you have a girlfriend." I spat. "Babe, I love you and I am sorry if I made you feel like that. I really was looking at you the whole night. The only woman who can command my attention is you. While I taking a sip from my glass, I lost you, I kept trying to find you and I couldn't, until you called out my name. Please give me another chance." Lando whispered with tears in his eyes. I was a sap when it came to him , sometimes he can be really dumb. "I promise this will never happen again. You can brand me if you want." Lando continued a laugh left my lips on hearing his words, "Lan, I'm not branding you but I know a better way to keep women away." I said whilst pulling him by his collar to kiss his lips. "I think I'll like this method more than the branding one, anyways." he muttered against my lips.

I couldn't stay angry at anyone for long, especially not Lando.

[simplydowntwn]

INTRICATE.

hi so it’s been a WHILE. uhhhh rewatched challengers for the thousandth time and it broke me out of my writers block! i don’t know how im going to continue w this, so feel free to drop any ideas and ill add it to the lore 😈 note: series prob isn’t gonna end with any smut scene bc im incapable of writing one without it sounding stupid asf! but who knows, you might be surprised

cw: 1.4k words,,, art and reader are dating but fighting, set in stanford era, tashi is NOT injured, patashi, hints of reader crushing on tashi but repressing it, fighting, tensiontensionTENSION! basically everyone is friends with one another but they all want each other BAD. lmk what else i should add :)

“it’s complicated.” that’s what you say every time someone asks you what your relationship with art donaldson is. and it’s true— you guys are fiery, but not explosive. complex, but not convoluted. it’s just… strange. intricate. hence, complicated.

you think he’d probably say the same thing, but there’s no real way to know, since you can’t exactly ask. the two of you aren’t on speaking terms right now, and for the same reason you two stopped talking last time, and the time before that.

art donaldson can’t split his time between his girlfriend and his fucking best friend’s girlfriend. and you can recite the argument quite well, maybe even word for word; it’s still fresh in your mind, engraved there.

“c’mon, you can’t just keep ditching me for her. it’s annoying, and it hasn’t just happened once or twice, you know.”

“i know.” art sighed, a hand tangled in his hair as if to ground himself. your name fell from his lips, voice cracking midway. “what do you want me to do? she needed help with her physics homework.”

“she can get one of her fucking groupies to help her! she’s a big girl, she doesn’t need to rely on you.” the way you said it, mocking and condescending, was mean, and you know it. you don’t hate tashi— you can’t even bring yourself to dislike her. but it hurts every single time you text art on your motorola and get hit back with some half-assed variation of ‘helping tashi. sry :( i’ll come later.’ he never actually shows up at ‘later’, which only rubs salt in the wound.

art’s jaw ticked. his eyebrows furrowed and eyes darkened in a way you’d only seen once before, when someone was talking shit about tashi in the cafeteria. you had watched as she calmly reassured art that is was fine, that he needed to relax, but he only shook his head and clenched his fists. in that moment, you wondered if he ever got that angry if he overheard someone talking about you. you now doubt it.

“don’t talk about her like that.” he said it calmly, but your skin still prickled. “she’s an accomplished lady. what about you? what have you done?”

if you sounded condescending before, it was nothing compared to how he sounded then. you scoffed away the sinking feeling in your stomach, blinked back the sting in your eyes. there was a lot you could have said to him then: ‘i might not be half as good at tennis as she is, but that’s less embarrassing than being second-best to her boyfriend.’ or ‘i didn’t compete for her number and lose.’ hell, even a good ‘fuck you’ would have sufficed.

instead, you just stood there, frozen, as he grabbed his stanford sweatshirt and left.

when you tell the story to patrick, he laughs, and doesn’t stop laughing until you jab him with your elbow, effectively knocking the oxygen out of him. his hands raise in mock surrender before speaking. “sorry, it’s just funny to see him get like this, i guess.”

you frown. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean that he likes you, but he likes tashi. i know it, tashi knows it, and from what i heard on the walk here—” he gestures vaguely towards the door to your dorm, “—the school knows it, too. i dunno, i guess it’s amusing ‘cause art has never been so disturbed about this kind of shit. usually he just picks the girl he likes best, but he can’t.”

“you mean he can’t because you’re dating her.”

patrick smirks his signature smirk. you have the urge to punch his teeth out; vagueness is beginning to be a pet peeve of yours. “no, i’ve told him that tashi is free reign.”

the way your stomach flutters at that is shameful. you push the feeling away. “like, you guys aren’t..?”

patrick shrugs. “i mean, currently she hates me because i said i’d go to her match yesterday and i missed it.” these guys really need to stop promising us stuff, you think. “but yeah, when she isn’t pissed off, we’re dating, and we talk about it. ‘bout you guys. she doesn’t really care if the two of you make moves on either one of us.”

you don’t say anything, but your ears feel warm, and your heart is about to explode out of your chest. it doesn’t help when patrick takes that as a sign to keep talking and says—

“i don’t care either.” it suddenly hits you, the closeness between you and him. close enough that you can smell his cologne, one typical of a rich frat boy you’d pass by in the halls. but it feels different, with him. patrick’s smirk has shifted into a grin, a big one. you realize he’s been gauging your reaction, and is thoroughly pleased.

“oh,” you breathe. he snickers, repeats it back playfully. you don’t understand how he’s so relaxed, able to make light-hearted jabs in this moment. art likes you and tashi. tashi doesn’t care if he likes her, or if you like her. patrick doesn’t either. but where do you stand in this?

your phone jingles, the sound muffled from the blood roaring in your ears. you don’t know if you should thank or curse out whoever decided to call you at this second, but you excuse yourself to answer. patrick nods begrudgingly, backs up enough for you to have room to finally start to inhale and exhale again. “hello?”

“hey.” it’s art on the phone. impulsively, you look around, as if he’s hiding somewhere in the dorm he marched out of a few days ago.

holy fuck. “hey!” you sound too cheery to your own ears, and hope that over the line it sounds more convincing. you hear a sigh on the other end, and can imagine art physically loosen. “what, uh— i thought you were mad. at me.”

patrick perks up. ‘art?’ he mouths, and you nod. he attempts to come closer, but you swat at him, moving a few steps away. he pulls a face, but doesn’t move closer. still, he’s definitely trying to hear what art is saying.

“i was.” art laughs nervously, the sound tinny over the phone. “but you’re right. i fucked up. tashi… she isn’t my girl. i need to pay more attention to you, and that’s gonna happen starting now.”

she isn’t my girl. “she could be,” you think aloud. you tense. art chokes. patrick stifles a laugh.

“what?” you pray that he didn’t hear it. you had mumbled it, whispered it, there’s a chance it didn’t pick up. art says your name one, two, three times before you respond.

“sorry, i just zoned out a little.”

“no, you said something. baby, what’d you say?”

“i said ‘you should be’. like, you should be paying more attention, dumb joke, i was trying to sound threatening,” you slap your free hand against your lips to stop your word vomit, then your forehead as you reprimand yourself for acting so stupid.

art hums. “oh, okay.” it should relieve some on the tension in your shoulders, but it doesn’t. he usually laughs when you fluster, but he didn’t. is he unconvinced, or are you overthinking? “hey, tomorrow can you come to my practice at noon? we can go to the cafeteria after, i’ve got wayyy too many meal credits.”

you look to patrick for help, but he shrugs, enjoying the moment. “sure.”

art says his goodbyes, goes ‘mwah!’ through the phone (which usually makes you laugh, but now you feel bad), and once you say bye, he hangs up.

“i’ll go to his practice, too.” it’s never a question with patrick (or with tashi); he just lets you know. “tashi’ll be there. she’s always on the court when she’s free.” you find it endearing that he knows her schedule.

“tashi.” you like the way her name rolls off your tongue, but you’d rather die than admit it.

before you can say anything else, patrick walks over, swings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. “don’t forget about what i said.” his breath smells like spearmint gum, the type art is always chewing. maybe he gave him a piece. “just think on it, yeah?”

you nod, and he pats your cheek before walking out the door, leaving you feeling dazed. after a few moments of just laying on your bed, soaking in the conversation you just had, your phone dings.

we’ll see u tmrw :-) -pat (&tash)