#I know other people will have the same thought

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Daquiri: splash of cold water

Word Count: 3.8k Contents: angst, cursing, some dark themes, violence, Gojo's pov, highkey rushed and not proofread so bear with me pleaseeee

“I’m disappointed in you.”

Satoru rolls his eyes. He’s been hearing that line for as long as he could remember — from his mother, father, teachers, friends, and especially from his grandfather, who sits on the opposite side of the mahogany desk. 

It was stupidly early in the morning when he was roused from sleep by Ijichi, the family’s Head of Staff. He has all sorts of titles, but the family dog is the most fitting. Truthfully, he’s a good guy. Somewhat of a friend. But damn, is he annoying?

Being hurriedly shoved in a car, half naked and still sleepy, Satoru had no choice but to follow along as he was dragged out and into the Gojo estate to meet with the head of the clan, practically paraded for all the snivelling, grubby-handed relatives and gossiping staff. Not the first time, for sure. One could even say he's used to it.

Of course, if he could avoid it, he'd never come here. Anyone with half a mind would hate it here. The people who live here hate it here. Sure, it’s all pretty with the beautiful woodcraft furniture, extravagant decor and lush gardens, but it’s a really big place, and it gets really lonely. The worst part, though? Running into people. He can’t stand seeing family members who either look at him with scorn for being the heir, which he never asked to be, by the way, or try to kiss his ass. 

But worst of all, he can’t stand the look of shame on his grandfather’s face. 

Older than he remembered, the man sits, hands clasped on a knee, legs crossed, and leaning back on the leather chair, no doubt crafted by hand by some artistic genius or other. His face has deepened with age, marred by years of experience and carrying the burden of leading the clan. It couldn’t have been easy, even if he had made it look as such, and it’s precisely why Satoru’s spent most of his life running from him and all that he represents. 

“Yeah, I know,” he yawns. 

Grandpa sighs. “I would have thought some time away in university would teach you to grow up. Yet, there you sit before me, just as immature as you were at eighteen, ten and two.”

Satoru, frowning, resists the urge to mumble some petty comeback. It wasn’t true, anyway. He’s matured a lot. Especially in the last couple of months when he was literally engaged and oh so close to walking down the aisle. That’s enough to send anyone into an early grave, so how much more mature did he need to be?

Hearing a lack of a reply, the older man asks, “You resent me, yes? For springing the engagement on you?”

“I won’t say no.”

It’s always the same story between them: two stubborn men, one old, the other young. Two sides of the same coin. When he was younger, his grandfather was his role model. His hero. At tedious and stupid family meetings, the older man would wink at him and slide a piece of candy over; they had secret games, sharing whole conversations with just their eyes. He was his first best friend. The leader of their precious clan, the man who struck fear in the most powerful men in the world, was who the boy would run to when he tripped and scratched his knees, when his parents would fight, and when kids at school would pick at him. 

The man cared for him more than his parents did. He practically raised Satoru. But then, as the boy grew older, they saw each other less and less. No special reason. Life got in the way. Responsibilities and yada yada yada. Then, his grandmother died, and the ones left behind were never the same after. In an inevitable twist of fate, more and more, those meetings turned him from pitiful observant, forced to bear witness to petty squabbling, to the very subject of those meetings. 

They changed from grandfather and grandson to Head and Heir, and there was no Spare to hide behind. 

“Satoru, son," he begins, pulling his thin-frame glasses off, "do tell, what was so wrong with being engaged to that young woman? To stepping up. To maturing and doing your part for this family?”

He groans. “You don’t get it. It isn’t about her. It’s about being engaged at all. They don’t get to make that choice for me. They don’t get to throw me into their schemes and plans when they know I want nothing to do with it. Any of it!”

“A boy so smart, with eyes that see more than they let on, with strength that surpasses us all, and yet you cannot see past yourself, past your own truth. That is the true disappointment. Not your acts of rebellion, not your games, but your refusal to rise to the occasion.”

Talking to the old man is like talking to a brick wall. Always lecturing him with riddles and think pieces. Satoru wants to leave. He’s having a terrible time as it is, what with the media whirlwind he has caused and the fact that he's still recovering from the bruising his friends had given him for ‘being a dumbass prick.’ He’s been holed up in his room, refusing to see anyone who wasn’t beautiful and adorned in black lace. Even as parties raged on below, nothing could tempt him to face the world. No classes had been attended, though that's just standard practice, and he didn't even check up on social media; he was scared he'd see her having fun without him, he supposed. 

Partly out of stubbornness and partly from shame, he didn’t reach out to the one person he so desperately wanted to. He was pretty sure she wouldn't want to see him after what he did. After he decided everything on her behalf, he blew up at her at dinner, left her to deal with their parents, and never answered her messages after that. 

Fuck. 

He's gonna die alone.

“Can I go, Gramps? I want to talk to her.”

A strange look passed over the man’s face. Satoru couldn’t place it, couldn’t understand, couldn’t even begin to know what it meant. But whatever it was, it made him sit up. 

“You can’t.”

He closed his eyes. Tight. “What do you mean? 

A fist falls on the desk. Satoru is jolted from his thoughts. 

“Satoru, she is engaged.”

Groaning, the younger man, exasperated and completely done, bolts out of his chair, shoving it forward as he feels the morning chill settle on his bare chest — they hadn’t even dressed him before ruining his day. “No, she isn’t. That was the point: to break the engagement by going to the media and telling them it was forced. Which it was, by the way. Thanks for having my back, Gramps. So, if it’s all the same to you, I gotta go wine and dine her and apologise. Maybe hit up a vampire shop and communicate in her language or sacrifice a child — don't tell her I said that. I'm tryna be better.”

He doesn't wait for a reply or notice the deadly silence that hangs in the air, suffocating and all-consuming. It's wild and unwise youth that takes him away without questioning the real reason he's been taken in his sleep. Years of shrugging off everyone who wasn't his age, wasn't drunk or stupid, had dulled his senses. 

Halfway to the door, stomping and muttering under his breath, the next words that come out of his grandfather’s mouth stop him dead in his tracks. A chill settles over his skin, clawing down his back. Sudden ringing deafens him, and he swears the room shifts, swaying him where he stands. 

“No. What? When?” Hearing only a tense sigh as a reply, Satoru grits out, “When?”

“Tonight.”

Satoru whirls around. “Who is she marrying?”

“Sit down.”

“No!” He screams.

This is impossible. 

She was his just days ago. 

This entire time, he had thought he’d taken a step back and was preparing to return, to go further, to promise himself in ways he couldn’t have under that restrictive alliance, but he’s just been showered in an ice-cold bucket of reality; hehadn’t stepped back. He had pushed her away. Shoved her. 

All the way into the arms of another man. 

Which man didn’t matter. Or maybe it did. 

He can’t think. Knees threatening to buckle, he can only try to catch his breath as dread settles in the pit of his stomach. Over the years, he had met many Zenins — it’s impossible not to run into them. And every single instance, every single one of them, left a bitter taste in his mouth. They were awful. Arrogant, spoiled, cruel, downright monstrous. 

Would she have been paired up with someone closer in age? If that were the case, only one person comes to mind. No. 

No. 

No. 

Not him. 

Feeling like he’s going to laugh and cry and scream at the same time, his voice lowers, fragmented and weak. So weak. “S-she can’t marry him. She can’t. H-he’ll hurt her. Crush her spirit. Fuck!”

Men come into the room, pinning him to the ground as books, vases and paintings are thrown around. He doesn't remember how his body moved, how his arms reached for anything and everything he could, and whose hands were on him. It all passes by in a blur. He can’t recall who tore down what and whose blood he spills, whether it's his own or someone just doing their job. Everything's hurting, and, at the same time, nothing is.

One thing he does remember is the shake of his grandfather's head and the glasses neatly folded on a damaged desk.

Restrained and barely conscious, he’s dragged somewhere and locked. 

This is his fault. In his pursuit to liberate her — both of them — he had inadvertently trapped her, driven her into the clutches of a man who’d place her on a mantel. 

Regret weighs him down. Everything has gone to shit. How could he fix this? Fix them? 

Would she want him to?

No, she would. Of course, she would. No matter how annoying, irritating, and irresponsible he is, Zenin could never be preferred. Not by anyone. Not when she deserves so much more. Someone who understands, who’d appreciate her artistry, her grace, elegance and intelligence. Someone better than both of them. Someone who wouldn’t be so impulsive and immature. Who wouldn’t react the way he had. 

Whatever she feels for him or against him, Satoru swears he will fix it. He’d free her the way she was supposed to be the entire time. And she can go wherever she wants. Be with whoever she wants.

Even if it isn’t him. 

———

“Tell me everything,” he demands. 

The old Gojo has never seen his grandson quite so serious. Having marched back into his office an hour later with bruised knuckles and a torn lip, he had approached the desk with a calmness that set an uneasy mood in the room. He’s dressed now, at least. Wearing jeans and a grey hoodie a maid had dropped off, Satoru sits, filling up a new leather seat, legs spread and fingers pressed to his lips as if to hide their pursing. Seemingly collected to anyone else, Grandpa Gojo knew better. 

His knee is bouncing impatiently, fingers drumming, and the way those familiar blue eyes are honed in onto every rise and fall of the chest of the older man in front of him, every twitch, every blink, and even on the dust that settles between them betrayed the peaceful facade he wears like armour.

Sighing, he relents, and so, the older man gets settled in and prepares for the storm.

“Your grandmother was the person I loved most in the world,” he began. 

“She was just a servant when we met. Young, beautiful, and the most headstrong woman I ever met, even then. No one at that point, or ever, dared glare at me or turn their nose up. She resented me for being a spoiled boy. Of course, she wasn’t wrong to dislike me; I was, admittedly, not a very conscientious young man then. Much like you, I skirted around my responsibilities and allowed others to take the fall. I never wanted this life, and truthfully, I didn’t think I would be well-suited.”

This is the most his grandfather has ever revealed about his past and despite the fact that he knows time is against him, Satoru listens intently. That's the man's cursed gift. Mesmerised by the charming baritone of the head of the clan, his fingers stop drumming against the armrest and he envisions a life not his and has since long past. 

“But your grandmother changed my life. She was never afraid to let me know when she thought I was doing something wrong. You remember the face she makes, don't you, son? All scrunched up and disapproving. That woman had a way of making you want to impress her.”

Chuckling to himself, he continues, “She made me want to be better. To be deserving of her. That continued well into our marriage. All that you see of our empire, far-reaching and ever-developing as it is, could not have been achieved without her. Every setback I ever faced was only made bearable because she’d smile at me as if I could get back up and try again. Do you understand what I’m telling you, son?”

“Grandma was great?”

His grandfather pinches the bridge of his nose. “No. Well, yes. But no, Satoru. What I’m saying is, women make us better. Not just any woman, but the one. I could not have managed for as long as I did without her. Even now, when she has been gone a long time, my ability to tolerate your ridiculous, weak and greedy aunts and uncles, and indeed your lousy parents, has been because of her. Because I hold memories of her in my heart. Because I can hear her voice guiding me to the right decisions. I want that for you, son.”

A sinking realisation made the younger man’s mouth dry. He sits up. And with an accusatory tone, he says, “It was you. You set us up.”

He was disgusted with his parents for stooping so low, for prioritising wealth and reputation over their son’s wellbeing again. And yet, the entire time, it had been him, the man who he thought was on his side. Always. Satoru thought he could turn to his grandfather for help, and he had actually deluded himself into thinking the man would be proud of him for having resolved it himself — or at least, attempted to. 

“Yes. I did.”

“Why? Why would you do this to me? To her?” There’s a strain in Satoru’s voice. The wood of the armrest creaks under the deadly grip he’s inflicting. Tension rides through his body, an animal ready to pounce, to rip it all to pieces. If he hadn’t been set up like this, she’d be free; he wouldn’t have driven her into the arms of a Zenin, and she wouldn’t hate him for ruining her life. Maybe they could have even run into each other on campus and had just been a boy and a girl searching for something real in a sea of greys and beiges. 

Grandpa Gojo leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together. Then, as if looking into the distance, he recounts yet another story from his past, one Satoru hadn’t been a part of. 

“Not that long ago, I had attended a funeral for a great woman I once knew. It was your average affair: faux sincerity, faceless crowds, off-hours negotiations. Truly dull.”

The younger man knows all too well how those events go. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t enjoy his own frat parties; they remind him too much of the parties he had grown up in. 

“Just a few years before that, as you know, we buried your grandmother in the very same place but in our own family plot. It's nice, or rather, as nice as those dreadful things can get. But she loved this little clearing far back in the forest behind the cathedral. Said she grew up playing in that land with her siblings. We used to have dates there, back when we were in our youth and we had to hide our relationship. Did I ever tell you my father never approved? Ah well, a story for another day. Where was I? Oh right. To commemorate her death, in my own personal way, I built a swing set. Two seats. For her and for me. Every time I missed her and the grief overwhelmed me, I’d visit, and I swear I could feel her with me.”

Satoru, breathless, feels the ground cave from under him. 

“I don’t get to visit as often as I’d like, a consequence of being who I am. But I am sure to maintain it. And at that funeral, I was given an opportunity to see the fruits of my labour and, as you do so very often, I snuck away. I don't mean to encourage that behaviour but I think I get a pass for being so generally well-behaved, no? Anyways, son, all the way out there, I saw a young girl.”

The grandson is standing before he even realises it. “You saw her?”

“I saw a girl coming into her own. I saw a melancholy air about her and a certain sadness that I could relate to. Why, she reminded me of myself, of my wife, and of you, all at once. Like the universe had aligned, I felt my wife guiding me to her last gift. In that moment, without ever exchanging a word with her, I knew she was special. In the way I recalled mygrandson was special. Is special. I left her to herself — she was grieving, after all. But I could never forget that little girl who had been abandoned by the adults around her, left to deal with the dangers of solitude. Through the years, I kept track of her, and, as a consequence of the family business being passed from the great woman I knew to her son, I watched her father drive their family to ruin with his gambling addiction, her mother dig her manicured claws in and twist, chasing thrill in luxury goods and losing herself in a flurry of white dust. Through it all, that little —no, that budding young woman — stood tall. But we all have limits, son."

There's a pathetic sense of jealousy growing in the white-haired boy. His grandfather's reminding him of how tiny his pool of knowledge regarding her really is. All he had done the past couple months was argue with her when he should have been at her side 24/7, begging her for every morsel of information.

Gulping, he shifts in his seat. "Limit?"

"She lost her dear friend. And rock bottom came soon after. Chained to a hospital bed, she took care of him when no one else would. But that is far too much responsibility for anyone. Once again, I saw you in her. Both running away from the problem, searching for comfort at the bottom of a bottle, and filling that void with countless people whose names you could not even begin to list. It was a pity.”

Reeling, Satoru tries to make sense of it all. The nonchalance in his grandfather’s words sends his blood boiling. Everything. Every second. Every fucking person in his life is a product of someone’s manipulation. Always. “So what? You wanted to help her out by bringing her into our family?”

“Well, yes.”

“That’s bull. Why couldn’t you just give her money? Why not build up her family's business like you do with literally everyone in this family if she's so special? Why go through this elaborate scheme? Why play games?”

Grandpa Gojo shakes his head. He looks thoroughly disappointed in his grandson and when he responds after a second or two of further thought, his voice reveals the age that has been wearing him down more and more. “Because when I go, I’d like to be certain you have somebody like I did, Satoru. Because you are young and you need guidance.”

It has become clearer than ever before: she was sent as a final nail in his coffin.

Satoru finds himself getting back up onto his feet, hands flailing in the air and a furrow in his brows.

“Now what? Huh? Your stupid games got her as good as dead. What are you going to do now?”

She's going to be a Zenin by the end of the day and he's going to have to watch her spirit fade at every ridiculous function for some charity event no attendant of the party could even hold a conversation about. They'll pass each other by like strangers, like two ships in the night, like nothing they shared had even happened. Was it better to have mattered for even just a second than to be nothing to each other?

SLAM!

A heavy fist quakes the mahogany desk, rattling every bone in the young man’s body. 

“We are the most powerful family in the country! We rule with both hands on a shield and a sword. A sword, Satoru. And deny it all you want, son, but the brutal truth will always be that you are not just a Gojo, not just a powerful man, a boy with a trust fund. You are the Gojo heir. A god among men! What you want is the will of our clan, don't you understand, my boy? Power courses through your veins. Limitless. Infinite. Accept it. For you, alone, are the honoured one. Embrace it. Use it. Weaponise it." 

When two pairs of eyes collide, one sees himself in the other and, after years of being at opposite ends, repelled by the weight of responsibility that hung between them, they finally arrive at the same page. After all those misunderstandings, all those stern talking to's, those never-ending arguments and disappointments neither could speak about, they're finally, finally friends again. 

One of them almost smiled. 

"So, what are you going to do?”

Satoru has one hand on the door and the other on his phone in a flash. For the first time in his entire life, he knows what to do. That thing that has been haunting him, forcing him deeper into the facade of an inconsiderate fratboy, brews to the surface. The privilege he had always considered a burden and a curse, that he had locked away and allowed to collect dust on, becomes his very lifeline.

“I’m gonna get my girl back.”

[no-144444]

chaotic trio- k.antonelli, o.bearman, p.aron

★ ☆summary: how your best mates react when they see you're getting hate online

★ ☆pairing: reader x ollie bearman x kimi antonelli (kinda)x paul aron (all platonic)

skysportsf1

liked by haasf1team, kimiantonelli, and 778,249 others

skysportsf1 Triple Trouble back at it again! We're only a few races in and your favourite chaotic trio are causing mayhem on track @.yourusername @.kimiantonelli @.olliebearman

comments

user729 Y/N'S RADIOS WERE GOLDEN -> user264 'why's ollie not even racing me? is his car that bad?' -> user67 kimi: 'WHAT THE FUCK MATE WHY IS Y/N UP MY ASS?! HOW DID WE LET THIS HAPPEN?!' -> user720 y/n gets past him: 'i think i could hear him screaming there'

user60 her overtake on kimi was chef's kiss -> user764 On god it was so fire ⁉️

user6238 ollie racing esteban and having esteban make a mistake? SLAYYY KING GET HIM BACK!!! -> user8834 AVENGE ALONSO

user899 She even surprised lewis like damn -> user92 lewis: 'oh shit she's up here???'

yourusername I wish to not be grouped with these hooligans -> kimiantonelli We were literally on the podium together what do you mean? -> yourusername were you top step? -> olliebearman Were you? -> paularon clock it! 💯💯💯

premaracing I'm so glad other people have to deal with them now :) -> user35 ik whoever babysat them was TIRED

user009 y/ns overtakes were actual cinema where has she been for the past few years wtf.

user233 babes why are they my favourite rookies of all time. -> alexalbon same tbh

user98 I think we need to apologise to each of their teams because they must be so much to deal with -> redbullf1team we're so tired... -> hassf1team exhausted even... -> mercedesf1team kimi is perfect and does no wrong :) -> yourusername ho is you toto?

kimiantonelli Someone needs to cut her brakes fuck's sake -> yourusername don't know if you noticed but my car is already a shitbox and i had no brakes by the end of that fucking race, so please stop praying on my downfall and focus on your maths homework you fucking nerd 😜 -> redbullf1team Y/n. More media training. ->yourusername FUCKS SAKE KIMI THIS IS YOUR FAULT.

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yourusername

liked by kimiantonelli, maxverstappen, and 1,345,354 others

yourusername stunted on those hoes. hashtag slay (kimi looks ugly on a podium but felt the need to post my best mate of 10 years when he finally makes it in f1, even if he's copying me)

comments

olliebearman hater ->yourusername alright mr.haas calm tf down i'll give you ur boyfriend back

kimiantonelli so sweet (not) -> yourusername this is as sweet as it gets girl enjoy it while it lasts 🕺

user892 they're so pookie

user233 FIRST MODERN FEMALE PODIUM IN F1 THANK YOU Y/N Y/L/N!!!!!!!!! -> liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isackhadjar, liamlawson, jackdoohan, yukistunoda, logansargeant, danielriccardo, gabrielborteleto, paularon, lukebrowning, alexdunne and 692,424 others

oscarpiastri You really did stunt on those hoes (did I say that right?) -> yourusername i genuinely love u sm osc

landonorris HASHTAG SLAY

redbullf1team we will take ur account away girl. -> yourusername bold of you to assume I don't have a backup.

user889 DID YALL SEE THE SMILE ON OLLIE'S FACE?????

user8844 LEWIS'S INTERVIEW WAS SO CUTE ->user22 ??? -> user8844 he was just super proud of both kimi and y/n and it was adorable

user709 i'm actually sobbing i never thought i'd get to see a woman on the podium i'm so emotional and she's just posted the most nonchalant caption what the fuck

user0029 she's actually so goated did we see her overtake on alonso??? even he was impressed.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, oscarpiastri, kimiantonelli and 2,729,423 others

yourusername me and max when we realise we have to get back into the car for another fucking weekend with no updates still...

comments

maxverstappen 😹😹😹 ->user444 yes king laugh through the pain -> user234 fucking hell he's actually loosing it lol

olliebearman please stop with the complaints ms. podium ->yourusername ur just mad because kim hugged me first stfu🤷‍♀️ -> kimiantonelli I actually hate both of you so 😼

redbullf1team I'm TIRED y/n. you're explaining this to christian.

user66 god she's so annoying can she take anything seriously?

user673 women shouldn't be driving in f1 they should be getting coffee

user7724 she was so shit how did she even get a podium?

user777 this sport has gone to shit

user999 she's so fucking stupid

user7 i'm so hyped for race weekend just to watch her crash lol

user667 get her out of that seat i could probably drive better ffs

user72442 girls don't belong in motorsport

user63624 get this cunt out

user343 paddock bunny

user2213 probably fucked half the grid to get there lol -> user7889 she's barely legal what?? -> user2213 stfu

user7555 she's such an obvious marketing ploy

user8724 she's got no talent

user3123 slut

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olliebearman

liked by yourusername, kimiantonelli, paularon and 824,243 others

olliebearman Some sun, some fun, it's all inside this happy meal :) @.kimiantonelli @.yourusername @.paularon @.arthurleclerc

comments

user244 why do they even invite her anymore?? ->user67 bc they're mates???????

user789 wow they've all had a turn lol -> user7920 you're such a pig

charlesleclerc Be safe kids 🫡 -> user729 i love how they're still keeping the adoption jokes going

user2345 him and kimi were soooo drunk

user576 i actually adore this group so much

paularon forgot to add the photo of my gorgeous biceps... -> olliebearman sorry i just made me vomit so i thought better not to

user638 she's so random in that group ewww

user8899 does she have any other friends she can leach off of???

user8978 she's a slut

yourusername take this shit down buddy 👎 -> kimiantonelli just because he posted me and him doesn't mean he doesn't love you -> user57588 why's she such a bitch????

user399 proud y/n hater ->user35 fr she's such a bop

user423 ran through ->user3445 you're disgusting

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kimiantonelli's story

[caption: congrats to the winner ig... @.yourusername]

dms

user553 she's such a slut leave her die

user939459 she's run through

user42 send me her nudes

user244 she's such a bitch

user523 paddock bunny

yourusername please take this down kim kimiantonelli why? yourusername please just take it down kimiantonelli alright, sorry :( yourusername thank you, sorry.

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paularon

liked by olliebearman, kimiantonelli, and 983,234 others

paularon Out and about recently :) @.yourusername @.kimiantonelli @.olliebearman

comments

kimiantonelli ngl those smoothies were mega

olliebearman dinner was so good

user35 why do they hang with her???

user89 free them from her grasp

user989 biggest slut in the paddock and she's up against charles leclerc

user139 shittest driver since mazepin

user766 blonde bimbo

user345 i'm so tired of pretending to like her GOD ->user399 why don't u like her? -> user345 women shouldn't be in motorsport. end of conversation.

user3554 she's so annoying just leave kimi and ollie alone! -> user89 fr she's probably fucking both tho lmao

user6789 every guy in the paddock has fucked her haven't they lmao

user573 christian horny's pet probably

user233 she's my fav driver this is my fav group -> user689 ur stupid if she's ur fav

user7832 can't wait to see her crash

user7909 why is everyone hating???? -> user65 bc men hate to see a woman doing well!

user4333 exhausted by all of these insecure men

user34 did yall see kimi's deleted story too? i fear a friendship break-up might be going on behind the scenes ->user8999 PLEASE NO🙏🙏🙏 ---------------

redbullf1team

likedby yourusername, maxverstappen, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, and 2,234,423 others

redbullf1team Top step for our no.19 :)

comments are limited

maxverstappen Wonderful drive.

lewishamilton SO proud.

olliebearman No, I wasn't crying. There was something in my eye. -> kimiantonelli fr. there was something in his eye.

fernandoalonso Vamos!

charlesleclerc It was an honour to be on the podium with her :)

georgerussell Blimey what a race! Incredible drive from herself :)

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kimiantonelli

liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen, landonorris and 824,243 others

kimiantonelli our best mate just won a race!?

comments

user8923 slut

paularon SLAYYYED

landonorris i thought she was my best mate?

user80 i hope she crashes and burns

user43 no women in motorsport

user23 she's so inspirational it's insane

user11 die

user32 they're both playing her i bet

user90 she's so bad why are we glazing her

user87 CHEATER

user789 omg if they wanted to they would this is so cute

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messages

yourusername Hey guys, I'm deleting insta and I probs won't be super in touch just because everything is going mad in redbull so I won't see much of yall at races. sorry, love ya xxx

yourusername has left this group!

paularon wtf is going on???

olliebearman did we upset her?

paularon why did she leave???

kimiantonelli Mate... look under any post of hers or yours with her in it. It's brutal. She's getting so much hate.

paularon holy shit i've just seen it now

olliebearman i actually feel sick wtf is this shit.

kimiantonelli we should say something

paularon good idea

olliebearman let's ask her first, yes?

kimiantonelli and paul aron yes

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messages

yourusername was added to 'the trip' groupchat!

yourusername hello?

kimiantonelli SUMMER TRIP HELLO? we know you've been busy but it's tradition

olliebearman yeah fr we miss you

paularon I'm going to suggest Italy???

yourusername omg i'm so sorry guys i promised my home friends i'd spend my break with them. we're going to greece but you're more than welcome to join us :)

olliebearman sounds like a plan!

kimiantonelli works for me!

paularon YAY!

yourusername one rule tho- DONT flirt with my mates

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messages

paularon was added to the 'boyos' groupchat

olliebearman why is she being so weird in public?

kimiantonelli she's scared of being seen with us duh

olliebearman why?????? we're her best mates????

paularon bc she'll get murder online, duh!

kimiantonelli this is so annoyinggggggg

olliebearman fr i just want regular y/n back

paularon it's not her fault

kimiantonelli come on we'll talk to her about it another time

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yourusername

liked by kimiantonelli, paularon, olliebearman and 2,394,094 others

yourusername summer breakin' :)

comments

paularon forgetting the photos of me????

user54 anyone else catch paul's comment? ->user23 omg PLEASE tell me the pookies are back

user3423 yall why is paul lowkey messy 😏

usser8390 she hasn't posted in so long, we were missing u queen!

user444 goated driver

user8990 ugly bitch

user22 shit driver

user23 omg she's so gorg

user3423 guys, anyone else noticed how paul, ollie, and kimi have been hanging out but y/n hasn't? -> user99 ikr i miss them so much 🫶 -> user12 she's just too stuck up for them now -> user23 or maybe she drives for a team that is literally falling apart???😸🔫 ->user344 it's deffo the hate

olliebearman damn, forgetting all about us

user99 YO OLLIE'S COMMENT

user4558 she's delteing their comments i swear to god

user90 y/n's such a gold digger

user3434 bitch

user221 crash next race

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messages

olliebearman why did you delete our comments?

yourusername i can't get into it

paularon we deserve an answer y/n. you won't hang out with us anymore, you won't be seen talking to us, what gives???

yourusername i just don't want to get more hate, alright? it's hard enough as it is, i don't need people thinking i'm sleeping with all three of you just because we're friends and then flooding my comments with the most vile shit they can think of. I am your mate, don't worry, it's just i don't want to drag any of you into this.

kimiantonelli we're here for you y/n. this is shit and we're sorry, and we don't want you to feel like you have to hide being our friend. we want to support you and make a post about it. a bunch of the other drivers are in on it as well

yourusername you don't have to do that

paularon we want to

olliebearman if it means we can hang out again, of course we'll do it

yourusername you guys are the best :)

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kimiantonelli, olliebearman, paularon, lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexalbon, carlossainz, lancestroll, fernandoalonso, maxverstappen, yukitsunoda, liamlawson, esteban ocon, jackdoohan, pierregasly, georgerussell, gabrielborteleto, nicohulkenberg, and isackhadjar

liked by mercedsf1team, redbullf1team, jackdoohan and 10,323,433 others

Hey all, we just wanted to come on here and say that we don't support bullying, but some of yall need a fucking reality check. Y/n Y/l/n is in the sport and she will continue to be. She is a talented, incredible driver who will continue to inspire thousands, if not millions. The world is changing, and while that can be scary, but having a woman in F1 should not be a shocking thing. We have all said it's only a matter of time, and the time came when Y/n got her seat. A seat she deserved, and continues to deserve. Women deserve a place in motorsports, and if you can't see that, shame on you.

limited comments

mercedesf1team no.1 Y/n Y/l/n fan over here

reddbullf1team class act, thank you boys

ferrarif1team wonderful message, forza y/n!

alpinef1team Behind you all the way :)

astonmartinf1team slaying the house boots down!

sauberf1team Wonderful woman, wonderful driver, wonderful words. Thank you for speaking out!

mclarenf1team Thank you for speaking up about this!

haasf1team The trio shall continue forevermore

vcarbf1team Stunted on those hoes :) ->liked by yourusername

williamsf1team This is such a wonderful message, thank you for standing up against the bullies :)

navigation for my blog :)

mercedes & williams masterlist

alpine masterlist

[shy9-29]

I actually need a two faced jake where at school hes a sore loser versus when he’s alone with yn—complete menace. Biggest cocky flirt out there. At first, yn didn’t know much about jake until he bent her over and fucked the living shit outta her. I’m just down bad for Jake ok.

Two Faced, One Heart: Who is Sim Jake?

심재윤 x reader

୨ৎ Two versions of Jake Sim—one the shy, clumsy boy who spills his coffee at school, the other the filthy-mouthed menace who had you shaking in his lap just hours before class—and somehow, you’re hopelessly addicted to both. ✉️ wc. 13.1k ⋆˙⟡ ⚠️ warnings : oral (both received), begging, teasing, cream pie, minor slut shamming, bullying, pet names, making out, swearing, harsh language, haur pulling, unprotected sex

📝: thats so fucking hot omg? I need jake so bad rn it’s not even funny

mndi · req open

———

The words come out before you can stop them.

“Do you think I could get Jake to fall for me?”

Your friends stare at you like you just confessed to having a crush on the cafeteria salad bar.

“Jake Sim?” Min gapes. “The guy who thanked the printer for working?” Jisoo raises a brow. “His Instagram only has twelve followers. Twelve. One of them is his dog’s account.” You try not to laugh. “Okay, but he’s kind of… sweet?” Min scoffs. “He wears socks with sandals.” You shrug. “Maybe I like that.” You don’t tell them that two nights ago, Jake had you bent over your tiny dorm desk, fingers tangled in your hair, voice low and smug in your ear while you struggled to stay quiet. Because no one would believe you.

Not when the Jake they know fumbles over his words in group projects and blushes when people look at him too long.

But you’ve seen the other side. The one who locks his door with a click and flips like a switch. You see him again the next day in class, right on time as always. Same oversized hoodie, same messy hair. He sits two rows behind you and doesn’t say a word.

You don’t look at him. Not really. But you feel him watching you. The weight of his stare pressed between your shoulder blades. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. Then, when you stand to leave, he brushes past you. Just a little too close. His fingers graze the small of your back—light, subtle, hidden. But it sends heat shooting down your spine. You catch up to him by the vending machines, just outside the library. He’s pretending to debate between orange juice and sparkling water.

You stop beside him. “Healthy choices.” Jake doesn’t look at you. “You wore that lip gloss again.” Your lips curve. “Maybe I like the flavor.” He reaches forward, selects a drink without thinking, and pays. His voice drops, just loud enough for you to hear. “I like it better off my tongue.” Your breath hitches. A pair of students walk past, one of them waving vaguely in Jake’s direction. He nods back with that usual shy smile, all harmless and mild-mannered.

The second they’re gone, his hand brushes against yours, fingers curling briefly around yours before letting go. You’re not sure your heart knows how to keep a steady rhythm around him anymore.

You didn’t know when it started—maybe it was the way Jake always sat in the back of class, quiet and unassuming. Or the fact that, every time you glanced at him, he never seemed to notice. He’d scribble in his notebook, the only sound in the room his pencil moving across the paper. You thought he was weird at first. Too quiet. Too in the background. The kind of person everyone else ignored. But there was something about him you couldn’t shake. The way his glasses would slide down his nose when he concentrated, or how he always wore the same hoodie, despite the weather.

The first time you spoke to him was after class. Your notes were mixed up, and you needed help with something—so you took a deep breath, made your way to him, and asked.

He looked up, startled. His cheeks went pink, and he mumbled something about being “kind of bad at explaining things,” but he agreed to help. That’s how it started. He was awkward. Shy. And he was perfect. You thought about him more than you should have, even as your friends teased you about how he was “just a soft loser” or “too quiet to ever be interesting.” But something about the way he treated you—how he never rushed you, never pushed, always listened—had you intrigued.

Then, the texts started coming. Small things at first—like a picture of a puppy he saw that reminded him of you. Or a random meme about books you both liked. They came at odd times, too. Late at night. In the middle of the day. And you found yourself looking forward to them, even though you knew he wasn’t exactly the “popular” guy at school.

One night, after a study session that stretched long into the evening, you both found yourselves alone in the library. It was just the two of you, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above, the scent of paper and coffee between you. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but he never did. Instead, he helped you pack up your things, careful not to touch you too much, but his fingers brushed yours when he handed you your coat. You thought you imagined it, the little spark that shot through your hand, but the way his eyes flicked to yours said otherwise.

“Uh, good night,” he mumbled, voice hushed. You smiled, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Good night, Jake.” You didn’t know it then, but that would be the night it all started to shift.

The next few weeks were a blur of fleeting glances, stolen moments. You’d catch him looking at you in class, only for him to quickly look away. Sometimes, he’d find reasons to walk the same path as you, his steps light, as if testing the water between you. And each time, the air between you would grow heavier, electric, like something unsaid was hanging in the space between your words. It wasn’t until one rainy afternoon that things finally tipped over the edge. You were on your way to the library when you spotted him standing under the awning of a building, looking at his phone. His hoodie was pulled up over his head, and he seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the rain was starting to soak through the sleeves.

“Jake!” you called out, jogging over to him. “You’re gonna get soaked.” He looked up in surprise. “Oh, uh… I was just trying to figure out when the rain’s supposed to stop.” He smiled sheepishly. “I should’ve checked the forecast before heading out.” You shook your head, already pulling your umbrella out. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’re not standing out here getting drenched. You’re walking me to the library.”

He hesitated, then smiled, a soft, shy grin. “Okay.”

You shared the umbrella, walking side by side. The world outside was blurred by the rain, everything muted except for the sound of your shoes on the pavement and the occasional brush of his elbow against yours. It felt casual, but something about it—something about him—made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

When you reached the library, you both stood under the awning for a second, the warmth of the building just inside. You were both still close, the air between you thick with unspoken things.

And that was when it happened.

Without saying a word, Jake leaned in just enough to let his breath ghost against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “If I walked you to class every day, would you still act like I’m invisible?” he whispered.

Your heart skipped, and you didn’t know how to respond. You didn’t know what to say, or what he was really offering. But you knew, in that moment, everything between you had shifted.

And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.

But you wanted to be.

You’d never seen Jake without his glasses.

The guy everyone knew—shy, reserved, a little awkward—was always framed by those round lenses. It was part of his quiet charm, the way they softened his features, how he hid behind them like a shield. No one really saw the guy underneath, the guy who barely made waves, who faded into the background of every class.

Until today.

You hadn’t expected this when you got the text. “Roommate’s out. You wanna come over?”

It wasn’t anything crazy. It could be a quiet hangout, maybe some late-night studying. But there was a strange feeling building in your stomach, something telling you that tonight might be different.

When you knocked on Jake’s door, you barely had time to brace yourself before it swung open.

And there he was.

Jake, standing there, no glasses. He was wearing contacts, and the difference hit you immediately. His eyes, normally hidden behind lenses, were now wide open, sharp, clear. They looked darker somehow, and for the first time, you saw something in them that wasn’t there before. Confidence. A kind of intensity that threw you off guard.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice smooth, low—nothing like the awkward, stuttering Jake you were used to.

“Hi,” you replied, unsure of what to say, suddenly aware of how close he was standing.

Jake stepped aside, letting you into the room. You took a quick look around—same dorm, but the vibe was different. The room was tidier than you expected, clean, almost meticulous. No clutter, no random piles of clothes or books. It felt… like a space where Jake had control, where things were on his terms.

“You can sit wherever,” Jake said, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was an edge to it now, something about the way he stood that was different from the usual quiet guy you saw on campus.

You sat on the edge of his bed, but you didn’t know where to look. His eyes were still on you, and the way he watched you made the air between you feel thick, charged.

He took his time, like he wasn’t in any rush. “You didn’t expect this, did you?” Jake’s voice was quieter now, almost like he was daring you to admit it.

You shifted slightly, trying to act casual, but it was hard. “No. I didn’t think you’d be like this.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of shy, soft smile you were used to. It was different. “Like what?”

You hesitated, but then shrugged. “I don’t know. More… sure of yourself. Less… nervous.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, and there was a flash of something dark in his eyes. “You think I’m nervous?”

You nodded slowly, testing him. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve always been… kind of quiet.”

Jake took a step closer, his expression unreadable now, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m not shy. Just don’t feel the need to put on a show for anyone. And I don’t think you’re stupid enough to believe I’m some clueless guy.”

You stayed silent, suddenly aware of how close he was now, how his presence filled up the space between you.

He was different tonight. No hesitation. No awkward stutter. Just… Jake. But the version of him that you never saw—sharp, self-assured, and unbothered by anything or anyone around him.

“Want to see how different I am?” he asked, his voice lowering, the question hanging in the air.

You barely had time to process before his fingers brushed your arm, the simple touch making your heart race. And just like that, you realized you weren’t ready for the change that was happening between you—but you were already in too deep to turn back.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you agreed to come over, but it wasn’t this.

Jake leaned against the wall in front of you, and for the first time, you felt a shift in the way he held himself, like there was something between you that wasn’t there before. His gaze didn’t flicker away from yours, and his posture was different. He was comfortable—too comfortable, and it made the room feel smaller, hotter.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Jake beat you to it, his voice low and steady. “You don’t look at me the same way you used to.”

Your chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

His smirk deepened. “You’re looking at me like you’re seeing me for the first time. Like I’m not just the quiet guy in the back of class.”

You tried to ignore the way his words made your pulse pick up speed. He was right, and it unsettled you more than you wanted to admit. The Jake you knew was always reserved, always hiding behind his quiet act. But the Jake in front of you now? He was different. More sure of himself. More… commanding.

Before you could find the right words, Jake pushed off the wall and closed the distance between you. He didn’t touch you at first, but you could feel the heat coming off him. You took a shallow breath, the air between you thick with tension.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You shook your head, but you could feel the unease building in your stomach, creeping up your chest. It wasn’t nerves—it was something else. Something new. Something dangerous.

He seemed to sense it, that tiny shift in your energy, and it made him lean in closer. “You can admit it,” he whispered. “I won’t bite.”

Your lips parted slightly at the sound of his voice, thick and low. There was nothing innocent about him now. You could see it clearly. This wasn’t the guy who stumbled over his words or blushed at the slightest attention. This was a version of Jake you hadn’t been prepared for.

And now that you were seeing him—really seeing him—you weren’t sure you wanted to turn away.

Jake’s hand came up to touch your chin, his thumb brushing over your skin with purpose. He tilted your head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he was dying to solve. His touch was slow, deliberate, and it made every nerve in your body stand on edge.

“Do you like this?” he asked softly, his thumb tracing along your jawline. “Do you like seeing me like this?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you found yourself staring at him, watching how his eyes flickered with something darker, something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“I don’t know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s smirk only grew, and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft kiss, the kind you were used to. It wasn’t gentle or cautious. No, this was different. This was hungry. It was messy. He kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment, like he couldn’t wait any longer. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his lips parting against yours as if he was trying to steal every breath from your lungs.

You let him. You let him pull you in, let him show you what he was capable of when there was no one around to see it.

When he pulled away, just enough to let you catch your breath, his eyes never left yours. There was something predatory in his gaze now, something that made your pulse race.

“You’ve been looking at me for a while,” Jake murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “You never thought I could be like this, did you?”

You swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for something to say, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

Jake smiled, that same smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll show you just how different I can be.”

And that was when you realized—there was no going back now.

Jake’s lips hovered just inches from yours, his breath mixing with yours, the tension in the air making every nerve in your body feel alive. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you could see the way he was waiting for you—waiting for you to decide how far you wanted to go, how far you were willing to let things shift.

You had never seen him like this. The quiet guy you knew had been replaced by someone far more confident, far more intense. His hand was still resting at the back of your neck, and the way his thumb traced small circles against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t kiss you again right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you, watching for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you weren’t ready. His thumb grazed your jaw again, this time a little firmer, almost as if he was marking his territory, making sure you knew he was in control now.

And then, without warning, he pressed his lips against yours again—but this time, the kiss was slower. It was deeper, more deliberate, as if he was savoring it. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours.

You tried to breathe, but it was hard. It felt like the world was closing in around you, leaving only the two of you in that small, charged space. You couldn’t focus on anything except the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands shifted, each touch sparking a new wave of heat in your body.

He pulled away just enough to speak, his voice low, gravelly. “I told you… I’m not the guy you thought I was.”

You nodded, your throat tight, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You could barely process what was happening. Everything about this felt different, so different from anything you’d imagined. The shy, awkward Jake had been replaced by someone who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted.

His lips trailed down to your neck, and the soft press of his mouth against your skin made your breath catch in your throat. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands never straying far from you. The warmth of his touch spread through you, and you felt your body responding in ways you hadn’t expected.

“Jake,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as his lips traced along your collarbone.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something primal. “Tell me what you want baby?” His voice was barely audible, but it cut through the fog in your mind.

You didn’t know how to answer, not with words. You had never been this close to him, not like this, not with the air crackling between you like it was about to catch fire. The way the pet name slipped so easily from his mouth made your pussy clench around nothing. But the look in his eyes, the intensity of his gaze, made something stir inside you.

Without thinking, you leaned in again, your lips pressing against his. This time, there was no hesitation. You kissed him back, a little harder this time, both groaning into the kiss as if you were trying to prove something—prove that you were ready for whatever came next.

Jake didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands slid lower, around your waist, pulling you even closer. You felt the heat of his body against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His hands were firm, confident as they explored the curve of your back, the tension in your muscles, the way your body responded to him. 

Every inch of space between you seemed to vanish, and soon there was nothing but the heat, the closeness, and the feeling of his hands on your skin.

For the first time, you weren’t sure if you were in control anymore—or if you ever had been.

Jake pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked at you with that same intense gaze. There was something in his eyes—an unspoken challenge, a promise of something you couldn’t quite yet name. You could feel the tension building, heavy in the air between you, thickening with each second that passed.

He reached up slowly, his fingers brushing the collar of his shirt, and your heart skipped a beat as he pulled it over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest. The movement was casual, effortless, like he’d done it a thousand times before. His muscles shifted under his skin, the soft light of the room catching the contours of his body, and it was like everything about him felt real now—far more than you ever thought.

You couldn’t help but stare, your gaze tracing over the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. There was no trace of the shy, reserved guy from before. Instead, he stood there—bare, exposed—looking at you with a calm confidence that made your pulse race.

Jake didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His eyes spoke volumes as they flickered to yours, waiting for you to respond, to make the next move.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight of him, suddenly feeling a shift, a hunger building within you that mirrored his own. It was a quiet power, a tension you could feel in your very bones.

Jake’s eyes never left yours as you stood there, frozen for a moment. The air felt thick, charged, as if time had slowed down, and the weight of his gaze made everything around you fade into the background.

He stepped toward you, his chest still bare, his body moving with a kind of fluid confidence that made your pulse spike. Each step he took seemed to make the space between you shrink, until you were once again within inches of him. He didn’t rush. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low, steady. The question hung in the air, but there was no hesitation in his tone—only the calm certainty of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.

Your throat tightened, and you nodded, though words seemed impossible to find. The only sound in the room was the quickening rhythm of your breath, mingling with his.

Jake’s hand reached for the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin as he lifted it, gently pulling it over your head. You let him, your heart pounding in your chest, your skin heating under his touch. He didn’t rush, his hands tracing the curves of your body with careful attention, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

When your shirt finally joined his on the floor, he stepped back slightly to take you in, his gaze sweeping over your exposed skin. His eyes darkened further, a look of quiet admiration in them, but there was something else there too—something predatory, possessive.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, the words low but full of meaning.

You could barely process what was happening, but the way he said it—like he was claiming you, and yet somehow honoring you at the same time—made your chest tighten. His hands were at your waist now, pulling you closer again, and his lips found the curve of your neck. He kissed you there softly, his mouth warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

As he kissed you, his hands moved lower, slowly, deliberately, until he was holding you, guiding you gently toward his bed. There was no rush, no urgency—just the feel of his strong hands, the weight of his body against yours, and the soft pressure of his lips as they trailed down to your collarbone.

Jake was taking his time, savoring the moments. He wanted you—he was showing you that much, but he was also letting you see a side of him that no one else got to experience.

And as he lowered you onto the bed, his lips never leaving your skin, you felt a kind of surrender that you couldn’t explain. He was confident, sure of every move he made. But so were you.

This was new. You were new.

Jake’s lips found the delicate curve of your neck, and you inhaled sharply as a wave of warmth flooded your body. His kisses were slow, teasing, each one leaving a faint, tingling trail on your skin. You could feel his breath against you, warm and steady, as he placed soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

His hands, still resting on your waist, tightened their grip slightly, pulling you closer to him. Every movement was deliberate, purposeful, as if he was in no rush to get anywhere, wanting to savor every moment.

“You’re such a good girl,” Jake murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough. The words sent a shiver down your spine, stirring something deep inside you. His praise, soft yet commanding, made your heart race even faster, the air between you growing thick with desire.

You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body reacting to the way his voice made you feel—like you were exactly where you needed to be, like you were his.

Jake smiled against your neck, the words lingering in the air. “So good for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the spot again. You could feel the confidence in his words, the way he was claiming the moment, claiming you. The heat that had been building between you both was undeniable now, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was no longer the shy, quiet guy from school.

This was Jake. The Jake who knew exactly what he wanted—and wasn’t afraid to take it.

The room felt smaller now, even with the space around you. The air was thick with a quiet tension, a sense of something inevitable hanging between you two. Jake was no longer standing across from you, maintaining that careful distance. He was close—too close—and it was clear that neither of you wanted to back away.

You could feel the pull of him, an invisible force that seemed to draw you in, making it impossible to ignore the heat that had been simmering between you both. You’d known this feeling, this desire, had been building for weeks. But now it was no longer just something you could push aside, something you could pretend wasn’t there.

“Do you trust me?” Jake’s voice was soft, but there was a weight to it, a seriousness that sent a ripple of excitement through you. He was close now, his chest nearly brushing yours, and the way he spoke made it clear he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity.

You nodded, unable to find your voice for a moment, the words lost in the heat of the moment. Jake smiled—genuine, a little wicked—and his hand reached out to guide you toward the desk.

The desk that had become a symbol of something you didn’t even fully understand yet. He placed his hands on your hips, his touch firm but not rough, leading you with careful, deliberate steps. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the edge of the desk against the back of your knees.

He stopped, his lips grazing the side of your neck as he whispered, “Stay still for me baby.”

There was an undeniable force in the way he held you, a promise in his words. Your pulse raced as your hands rested against the cool surface of the desk. The room was suddenly quieter, the sounds of your breaths louder than anything else.

Jake stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his breath ghosted over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. There was a certain thrill in knowing that he was completely in control, that he was in charge.

His hands moved with purpose, sliding from your hips up your sides, lingering over the curve of your waist, tracing slow circles over your ribs. You wanted to press back against him, to feel the weight of him against you, but something kept you still, some tiny shred of self-control.

Jake's hands moved higher, fingers trailing over your collarbone, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips. His touch was firm, possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You wanted to arch into him, to feel the weight of his body against yours, but you kept your hips planted against the desk, fighting the urge.

Jake's lips traced a path down your neck, and you could feel the smile on his face as he spoke, his voice low and rough. "You're doing so well for me," he murmured.

The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice shaky and desperate, "I need to feel you-need your cock."

You could feel him smirk against your skin, his hands tracing slow, teasing circles over your hips. "You that desperate, you slut?" he scoffed, his words like a taunt, a challenge.

Jake's words sent heat coursing through your veins, the sound of your own whimpering catching you off guard. It was a sound of desperation, of need, and it betrayed a vulnerability you hadn't meant to show.

But he heard it. Of course he did. He was so close to you, his body pressed against yours, and there were no more secrets between you.

You could feel the anticipation building, the air around you thick with tension. Jake's hands moved with purpose, tugging at your skirt, and it came down in a swift motion, pooling around your ankles. He took a step back, giving you space, and for a moment, you were left standing in just your underwear.

Jake's eyes darkened as he watched you, the desire in his gaze unmistakable. He moved closer again, crowding you against the desk, and you could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, the way it made your skin prickle with anticipation.

You looked back to see Jake stroking his already leaking cock, letting out a low groan in the process. You could feel a smirk form on his lips as he shoves your panties aside. “Jesus yn, you’re dripping.” His words brought a throbbing sensation to your pussy, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth. “Jake…please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.” The heat in your body was almost unbearable now, your words little more than a ragged breath as you plead with him, "Fuck, Jake." It was like all the thoughts had slipped away from you, replaced by a pulsing need.

Jake didn't hesitate. He was still gripping your hip with one hand, his other wrapping around your waist as he pulled you back against him. There was no more waiting, no more teasing. He was hard and ready, and you could feel it pressed against you, and you were slick and wanting, and you couldn't take it any longer.

With a low, guttural groan, Jake slammed his cock inside your soaked cunt in one motion, causing you both to let out the filthiest sound. 

“fuck, look at you,” jake groaned quietly, fingers spreading your ass apart. “such a filthy little thing, huh? letting me use that pussy mouth like it’s all you’re good for.”

his hand is tangled in your hair now, not tugging—just resting there, warm and heavy, like a crown you’ve earned. you try to stay quiet, knowing that the building has thin walls, spit pooling and dripping down your chin as your rhythm falters under the weight of his words. “Jake, it feels go good—“

“quiet,” he snaps softly, and your lashes flutter as you obey.

good. obedient. ruined.

“that’s it, baby. show me how good you are at taking my cock,” he says, voice almost tender if not for the filth of it. “can’t even breathe right, but you don’t care, do you? you love it too much. love being my perfect little toy.”

you whimper around him, and it makes his hips stutter. his thighs tense.

his control cracks just a little.

“god, you’re so good for me. fuck, baby—so fucking perfect.”

he grits his teeth, hand tightening just slightly in your hair. “no one else gets to see you like this. no one else can. only me.”

your jaw aches. your throat burns. but still, you don’t stop. “this pussy is made for me,” he continued, throwing his head back. “Fucking made for me yn.”

Jake was losing control, his words coming out in sharp breaths. He'd never spoken to you like this before, never so openly, so shamelessly filthy. Your mind was reeling, the sensations overwhelming as he took what he wanted from you, his words only fueling your own desire.

“J-Jake- too much.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “And you love it.” he grabs onto your waist gently. 

You help fuck yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. y/n..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.

You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed taking on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.

He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out any further moan yet. 

His hips move faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every thrust. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— gonna… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle. 

You don’t get to say anything—your body gives out before your voice can even catch up. Your thighs tremble around him, and you’re a mess in his lap, clinging to him like he’s the only thing grounding you. The sound you let out is raw, louder than before, and Jake just leans back in his chair, watching you fall apart with that smug, wrecked grin of his.

His hands tighten around your waist, keeping you moving even as your body begs for mercy. He’s not letting go—not yet.

“You’re not done,” he mutters low against your throat, lips brushing your skin. “Not until I say so.”

You try to respond, but it’s all heat and haze now. Your chest presses against his as your head drops to his shoulder, and he doesn’t stop—he guides you through every slow grind, every twitch of your body that draws another gasp from your lips. His voice is rough, breathless, right in your ear.

Then his body jerks beneath you, and the way he holds you after—tight, possessive—tells you everything you need to know. His hand slides up your back as you both sit there, the room thick with the aftermath, your bodies still tangled.

You think it’s over. You think maybe now he’ll let you breathe.

But then his grip shifts, and he pulls you right back down onto him, your body jolting at the sudden contact.

A gasp leaves you, and his laugh—low and dangerous—rumbles against your collarbone. “Still so sensitive,” he teases, brushing your hair back as he presses a kiss just below your ear. “Thought you could handle me.”

Your arms drape around his neck again, head buried against his skin, and all you can do is hold on. You kiss the sweat-slicked curve of his jaw, trying to catch your breath while he stays buried deep, unmoving, content to just keep you there—full, overwhelmed, and completely his.

And with one hand still steady on your hip, Jake casually slides his chair back toward his desk, like it’s just another night—like you’re not still trembling on top of him.

Just before he grabs his headset, he whispers, “You should hear yourself.”

By the time you got back to class Monday morning, it was like nothing had ever happened. Or at least, that’s how Jake made it seem.

There he was, slouched in his usual seat at the back of the lecture hall, hoodie half-zipped, glasses perched slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose. He was typing away at his laptop like he hadn’t just had you moaning his name into the crook of his neck two nights ago, skin flushed, bodies tangled.

He glanced up as you walked in. His eyes found yours for a second too long—and then he looked away, pretending to be distracted by something on his screen. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting a smile.

You took your seat a few rows ahead of him, and a minute later, you felt the faintest buzzin your pocket.

“I had fun.”

You turned around. He was staring at his laptop like he hadn’t just texted you that. Like he hadn’t just ruined you on that same voice he used to answer class questions with a stutter.

Jake was still quiet in public, still awkward. He still pushed up his glasses too often and knocked over his water bottle when reaching for his pen. But now, there was a glint in his eyes every time he looked at you. A silent smugness. A private joke only the two of you knew the punchline to.

And when your professor called on him to answer a question, and he stumbled over the words “data structure,” turning slightly pink, you thought—no one else in this room had a clue. No one knew that he’d whispered “stay still for me” against your skin like a command. That the same clumsy guy blushing in front of the class had told you with a dark smirk, “such a good girl, you took me so well.”

You looked over your shoulder again. Jake met your eyes, and this time, he didn’t look away. Just popped a piece of gum into his mouth, chewing slow, gaze steady. And then he winked.

You almost dropped your pen.

You tried to keep it to yourself—you really did. But your friends had spent the last ten minutes at your table giggling over Jake like he was some weird cryptid.

“I checked his Instagram again,” Yuna said, sipping her iced coffee. “He lost a follower. And he posted a blurry picture of a squirrel once.”

“Do you think he even knows how to use Instagram?” Soojin added, snorting. “He gives off ‘my mom made this account for me’ energy.”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile too hard.

“What?” Yuna asked, eyes narrowing at you. “Why are you smiling like that? Don’t tell me you actually think he’s hot.”

“I don’t think he’s hot,” you said slowly, stirring your drink.

They leaned in.

You sighed, leaning back in your seat, glancing over your shoulder out of habit.

“Okay,” you whispered. “This doesn’t leave this table.”

Yuna and Soojin practically vibrated with anticipation.

“I went to his dorm,” you started, voice low. “A few nights ago. His roommate was gone. And he wasn’t wearing glasses. He had contacts in. And he—” you hesitated, heartbeat picking up. “He was acting completely differnt. And we kinda.. you know.”

Yuna let out a dramatic gasp. “No way.”

Soojin cackled. “Shut up. Jake? Jake Sim and y/n fucked?”

You nodded slowly, lips twitching.

“And?” Yuna prompted. “And? What, did he trip over his desk accidentally slip his dick into you?”

You hesitated. “We, uh… no…”

Both of their jaws dropped—and then they burst into laughter.

“No, no, you’re joking,” Soojin said, leaning into Yuna for support. “Jake? Jake had you—what, bent over his gaming chair while his twelve Instagram followers cheered him on?”

“I’m serious,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “He’s not—he’s not how you think he is. Not when we’re alone.”

“Okay, now you’re just making it sound like he’s Batman,” Yuna snorted. “By day, he’s a bio major with a screen protector on his calculator. By night—”

“Hey.” A voice cut in behind you.

You froze.

Yuna’s eyes widened.

Soojin slapped a hand over her mouth.

You turned your head slowly—Jake was standing there, tray in hand, his expression unreadable. His glasses were on, hoodie loose, hair a little messy like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Hi,” he said, voice calm, like he hadn’t just caught you mid-confession.

You blinked up at him. “Jake.”

He looked at your friends, then back at you. “You forgot your charger last night.”

He placed it next to your drink, eyes flicking down to your hand for half a second.

“Thanks,” you said, voice quiet.

Jake gave you a lazy smile—barely there, but you knew it. You knew that look now. He turned, walked away like nothing happened, headphones already around his neck.

You turned back to your friends.

Their mouths were hanging open.

“…You’re not joking,” Yuna said flatly.

“I told you,” you whispered, trying—and failing—to hide the grin pulling at your lips.

Your friends were still frozen, processing, as Jake walked off toward the other end of the café like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb and left you to deal with the aftermath. He didn’t look back, but the slow, smug drag of his steps made it very clear—he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I…” Yuna blinked. “Was that your charger?”

You nodded, sipping your drink to hide your smirk.

Soojin finally found her voice. “Did he say last night?”

You nodded again, this time a little slower.

Both of them let out the most synchronized gasps you’d ever heard in your life.

“Girl,” Yuna whispered, leaning across the table like she was afraid someone would overhear, “what the hell is going on? That’s not even—Jake? Like, Jake Sim? He’s—he’s a meme. We literally made a Bingo card of the number of times he trips in the hallway!”

“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the warmth in your cheeks. “And apparently, he’s also capable of blowing my back out while explaining the difference between RAM and ROM.”

Soojin shrieked. “Stop!”

You were laughing now, the kind that bubbles up and won’t stop. It was ridiculous. All of it. And yet, every time you thought about the way he kissed you—like he knew what he was doing, like he’d been waiting for the right moment to show you—you felt your knees threaten to give out.

“Okay,” Yuna said, gripping your arm. “So, wait. Is he, like… your boyfriend now? Or is this just an elite phase?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it again.

You hadn’t even thought that far.

Jake hadn’t said anything official. No labels. No talks. Just quiet texts. A stolen charger. A wink in lecture. And the memory of him whispering in your ear, voice low and breathless, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. “But I don’t think this is just a one-time thing.”

At that exact moment, your phone buzzed again.

“also, I meant every word I said to you”

Your head snapped up. Across the room, Jake was seated with his laptop open, headset slung around his neck, biting into a sandwich like the most innocent man alive.

Your stomach flipped.

This menace. This liar. This actor.

Your thumbs hovered over the screen, a mix of embarrassment and fondness curling in your chest.

“you’re actually evil”

“i hate you”

“i hate that i don’t hate you”

A beat passed.

“you’re cute when you fluster. wanna come over after chem?”

Your friends didn’t even need to ask who you were texting. They saw your face and groaned in unison.

And for once, you didn’t even deny it.

Jake was a master of the double life. You didn’t know how he did it, but it was like he could flip a switch whenever he stepped foot in the hallways of the university.

In class? A complete disaster.

The shy, bumbling guy you’d always seen—his glasses slipping down his nose, tripping over his own feet as he made his way to his desk. He’d stammer when he spoke to the professor, barely making eye contact with anyone, and was always the first to look down at his phone when group discussions came up. The Jake everyone saw was awkward, quiet, and somehow endearing in his nerdy way. The one who sat by himself in the cafeteria, fiddling with his notebook, hoping no one would notice him.

And yet, you knew. You knew there was something more beneath that awkward exterior. Something darker, something confident. You’d seen it for yourself, just two nights ago. The quiet guy who barely spoke a word in class had turned into a completely different person behind closed doors.

But here, in the hallway, between classes, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that same Jake was the one who had you shivering under his touch, whispering praises into your ear like he owned you.

You were walking past his usual spot in the library when you caught him fumbling with a stack of books, his face scrunched up in concentration. He didn’t notice you at first, too focused on his task. But when he looked up, the usual blush crept up his neck, and his mouth opened, but no words came out.

“Hi,” you said casually, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You need help with those?”

He gave a nervous laugh, adjusting his glasses and dropping the books onto the table like his hands suddenly didn’t know how to hold them anymore. “Uh, yeah, no, I—um, I got it. Thanks, though.”

You could barely contain your laughter. Here he was, this guy who had literally whispered praises in your ear only days ago, looking like a total mess in front of you. He couldn’t even manage eye contact without turning an embarrassing shade of pink.

“So,” you said, leaning against the bookshelf beside him, your arms casually crossed. “You been doing any more squirrel photography lately?”

Jake froze, his face flushing deeper. “Uh, n-no,” he stammered, grabbing his books a little too quickly. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It was like watching a completely different person. Gone was the guy who had held you close, kissed you with authority. Gone was the guy who made you forget everything when his lips were on your neck. Now, he was just a bumbling mess, avoiding your eyes, looking everywhere but at you.

“You’re so weird,” you teased lightly. “You know, I’ve been wondering… is it really the glasses, or is it the awkwardness? Which one is the real you?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He just looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and—was that a hint of guilt? Like he had a secret he didn’t want anyone to know.

“Never mind,” you said with a smirk, walking away from him. “Keep up the good work, loser.”

You could feel him watching you, probably frozen in place, but you didn’t care. It was almost unbelievable how different he could act when it was just the two of you alone in a room. The guy who couldn’t make it through a simple conversation in public had turned into the man who made you forget your own name when he had his hands on you.

But for now, all you could do was shake your head and laugh, marveling at how Jake was pulling off his double life—completely clueless and completely in control, all at once.

The cafeteria went silent the moment you walked past your usual table and headed straight for his.

Jake was sitting alone, as usual—tray of barely-touched food in front of him, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands like he was trying to disappear into himself. He was hunched over his phone, earbuds in, completely unaware of the social earthquake that was about to hit.

You plopped down across from him without warning.

His head snapped up. He blinked, startled. “Wh—uh… hey?”

Conversations around you dipped, and you could feel the whispers starting. Not subtle ones either. Real, full-body turns. Eyes darting. Forks pausing mid-air. People whispering you’re joking, is that Y/N? and she’s sitting with him?

You just smiled, opening your drink like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Relax,” you said, lowering your voice and leaning forward just a little. “You’re acting like I just declared war on the entire social order.”

He pushed his glasses up and blinked a few times. “You… you don’t usually—uh, sit here.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “But today I felt like sitting with my favorite academic weapon slash secret menace.”

Jake choked on his water.

You grinned. “Also, I think I’ve figured you out.”

He swallowed hard. “F-Figured me out?”

“Yup.” You tilted your head at him, keeping your voice low and teasing. “I think your glasses are what activate your awkward personality. Like a switch. You wear them? Jake the human embodiment of a shy turtle. You take them off? Boom. Total menace.”

His ears turned pink. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual but failing completely. “They’re prescription…”

“And yet they’re also your disguise,” you smirked.

Around you, the buzz of conversation slowly picked back up. Everyone was still sneaking glances, but they were getting bored now that you weren’t making out on the table or confessing your love with a boombox overhead. One by one, people returned to their own lunches.

And that’s when he looked up at you—and really looked.

The second your audience was gone, the timid act melted off his face like it had never existed. His back straightened. His expression shifted, eyes sharpening just a little, mouth tugging into that familiar slow smirk that made your stomach flip.

“You like the glasses?” he asked, voice lower now, smooth and lazy.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden switch.

He leaned forward on his elbows, gaze steady and annoyingly smug. “You think that’s what keeps me from bending you over this table right now?”

You nearly choked on your drink.

“There’s the menace,” you muttered, eyes narrowing as your pulse spiked.

Jake smiled like he’d just won something. “You came to my table, remember?”

“And now I’m questioning everything.”

He laughed under his breath, picking up a fry from his tray and tossing it into his mouth like he had all the time in the world.

“Too late,” he said, chewing. “You already made your choice. Better hope no one figures out what I look like without the glasses.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you threatening me?”

He grinned. “I’m warning you.”

And just like that, he went back to sipping his water, glasses slipping again, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. Back to harmless, quiet Jake.

But you knew better now.

So did he.

You were two seconds away from dragging Jake by the collar.

He sat stiffly next to you on the couch, surrounded by your friends, looking like someone who’d just been dropped into a completely foreign dimension. His hoodie was zipped all the way up to his neck, hands tucked into his sleeves, legs pressed together like he was trying to take up the least amount of space possible.

Your friends were trying. God bless them, they were.

“So, Jake,” Yuna said, passing him a slice of pizza. “What are you majoring in again?”

Jake blinked. “Um. Bio.”

Silence.

Soojin tried to jump in. “Cool! Are you doing like, pre-med or something?”

Jake stared at the pizza in his lap like it personally offended him. “No.”

You gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. He flinched. “I, uh… I just like cells.”

More silence.

You shot him a look.

Jake gave a weak smile. “Cells are nice.”

You excused yourself to the kitchen before your soul could physically leave your body from secondhand embarrassment. Jake followed, like a lost puppy—but once the two of you were out of earshot, you whirled on him.

“Are you serious right now?”

Jake blinked innocently. “What?”

“You’re acting like a scared freshman at their first club meeting. Can you just…” You groaned, tugging him by the sleeve. “Be normal. Be you. The you that had me on my knees last weekend.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You want me to flirt with your friends?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I want you to act like you’re not a socially-anxious squirrel.”

He leaned against the counter with a little too much confidence now. “Babe, I already got what I wanted. I don’t need to charm your friends.”

You stepped closer, lowering your voice. “If you keep acting like a brick wall, I swear to god I’m not giving you head again.”

Jake blinked.

Then he straightened.

“You wouldn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

There was a moment of silence. He stared at you like you’d just ripped the moon from the sky and thrown it in his face.

And then—he sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

You watched him walk back into the living room, a defeated slump in his shoulders. But right before he sat down again, he glanced back at you and mouthed, rude.

You just smiled sweetly.

You watched him march right back into the living room like a man on a mission. No hoodie shielding his face, no sleeves hiding his hands—Jake dropped onto the couch next to Yuna like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just been threatening to pretend he didn’t know the English language five minutes ago.

“So,” he said casually, draping one arm along the back of the couch. “Y/N tells me you guys stalked my Instagram.”

Your head snapped up.

Yuna blinked, caught. “W-What?”

Jake smirked. “Twelve followers and still managed to bag your friend. Pretty impressive, right?”

Your jaw dropped.

Soojin choked on her drink.

Yuna looked like she’d just short-circuited.

“I mean, I don’t post thirst traps or anything,” Jake continued, tone light but clearly enjoying himself. “Y/n says I should.”

You were frozen. You hadn’t even known he could talk in complete sentences around your friends, let alone roast them.

He glanced at you mid-sentence, lips twitching. “What? You said be normal.”

“This is not what I meant by normal,” you hissed under your breath.

Jake only smiled wider.

“I mean,” he said louder now, eyes gleaming, “Y/N didn’t really stand a chance. She was obsessed with me from the moment she saw me trip over a recycling bin.”

You stared at him, half-horrified, half-impressed. The duality of this man was actually insane.

“You’re the worst,” you muttered, but your voice was shaking with barely contained laughter.

He leaned back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other like he’d been doing this all his life. “I prefer ‘underrated.’”

Soojin blinked at you, stunned. “Is this the same Jake?”

“Sadly,” you deadpanned.

Jake stretched his arms overhead, smirking like he’d just won something. “Told you. Glasses on—loser. Glasses off?” He looked at you over the rim of his drink. “Problem.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

Because he was right.

The conversation shifted, but Jake didn’t shrink back like he normally would. In fact, he leaned in. Tossed out a few sarcastic remarks, made a joke about the weird guy in your chem lecture, and even stole a fry off Yuna’s plate like he’d known her for years.

You sat there stunned, barely able to process the whiplash of it all.

At one point, Soojin gave you a look—eyebrows raised, lips parted like girl…—and you just blinked back, equally bewildered.

Jake caught the exchange, of course. He always did. He leaned over toward you, his voice dropping low, just for you to hear.

“Still mad at me?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You didn’t look at him. “You’re skating on very thin ice.”

He chuckled softly. “You threatening me again?”

You smirked, finally glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “I don’t threaten, Jake. I warn.”

That seemed to only encourage him. “You know I love when you talk like that.”

You elbowed him under the table, but he didn’t even flinch—just grinned like the menace he was.

Eventually, your friends began packing up their things, saying goodbye, and heading out one by one. Jake stayed close beside you, still riding the high of finally breaking his “awkward loner” act in public.

As the room cleared, he bumped your shoulder lightly. “So… did I do good?”

You stared at him. “You did too good.”

He raised a brow, amused. “Jealous?”

“No,” you scoffed, gathering your stuff. “More like terrified of the monster I just unleashed.”

Jake slung his bag over his shoulder, his grin never fading. “Told you. You’re the one who wanted me to be social. You made this happen.”

You paused at the doorway, giving him a long look. “You’re still not getting head tonight.”

He laughed, following close behind you. “Liar.”

God help you—he was right again.

Jake walked you back to your dorm with a bounce in his step, like he hadn’t just caused a minor social earthquake in your friend group. You kept glancing over at him, trying to find even a trace of the shy, fumbling version of him your friends had always known—but nope. Gone. Completely replaced by this smug, way-too-proud-of-himself creature strutting beside you like he’d just won an Oscar.

“You seriously said ‘bagged your friend,’” you muttered, shaking your head.

Jake shrugged, completely unapologetic. “I was being honest.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirked, leaning closer so his shoulder bumped yours. “But you love me anyway.”

Your heart did a weird little skip, but you masked it with a scoff. “Mm, debatable.”

He laughed, but you could tell he noticed the way your ears flushed. Jake always noticed. Which made it all the more dangerous when he decided to push.

“You sure?” he said lowly, glancing at you sideways. “Because if I remember correctly, few nights ago you were practically begging—”

You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish. “Don’t you dare say that sentence out loud.”

Jake’s laughter vibrated against your palm, and he licked it just to be annoying.

“Jake!”

“What?” he said, completely unbothered, mouth curling into that damn smile again. “I’m just saying, you seemed pretty in love with me when you were—”

“I swear to god, I won’t let you cum tonight.”

He grinned. “Still wouldn’t change what happened on my desk.”

You groaned, unlocking your door and stepping inside, not even bothering to push him out. He followed like he lived there, already dropping his bag on your floor and toeing off his shoes.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you muttered, tossing your jacket on the chair, “but I kinda miss socially awkward Jake.”

Jake leaned against your desk—the very one he had completely ruined you on—crossing his arms with a smug tilt of his head.

“I’ll bring him back next time we’re around your friends,” he said sweetly. “Wouldn’t want to scare anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re the worst.”

He took a slow step toward you. “And yet…”

You backed up until the backs of your knees hit your bed. Jake caged you in without touching you, just that cocky little smirk inches from your mouth.

“…you keep letting me in.”

Your breath hitched.

You hated how right he was.

He didn’t even have to touch you—just standing there, close enough to fog up your brain, was enough to make your breath catch. That same smug little smirk tugged at the corner of his lips like he knew. (And he did. He always did.)

You crossed your arms, trying to look unaffected. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”

Jake tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Didn’t say we were.”

“You were thinking it.”

He grinned. “Can’t a guy hang out with his girlfriend without being accused of crimes?”

You blinked. “Your what?”

Jake froze for half a second—just enough to catch it—then played it off with a shrug, looking entirely too casual. “You. My girlfriend.”

“Jake,” you said slowly, “we haven’t even been on a date yet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and?”

You stared at him.

He held your gaze, deadpan. “We’ve had sex on your desk.”

Your mouth opened, then shut again. He just kept going.

“I’ve had my tongue in you. Multiple times. You think a coffee date is gonna make it moreofficial?”

You smacked his shoulder, cheeks burning. “You’re insane.”

Jake smiled, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “You’re stuck with me now. Might as well give me the title.”

You rolled your eyes, but your hands found the hem of his hoodie anyway, fingers curling there.

“This better not mean I have to start posting you on my story.”

“Oh no,” he teased. “Anything but that.”

You sighed. “Fine. One date. But you’re planning it.”

Jake smirked, already way too pleased with himself. “Good. I was gonna make you fall in love with me anyway.”

It became… a problem.

First it was your friends catching you two making out in the library stacks. Then it was the quad. Then the empty art building stairwell. At one point, Yuna dramatically threatened to carry a spray bottle in her bag just to spritz you both like misbehaving cats.

You tried to tone it down. Really. But Jake had this stupid, unfair ability to get under your skin with just one look. One whisper. One brush of his hand against your lower back when no one was watching.

And then there was the incident. The one no one dared to speak about—but everyone knew.

You’d followed Jake into the men’s washroom between lectures, heart pounding, brain nowhere near your upcoming lab. One minute you were teasing him red, leaking tip with minor kitty licks, the next—A very unfortunate and traumatized TA walked in at the exact wrong time.

To this day, you’re not sure who was more horrified: you, Jake, or the TA who immediately did a full 180 and walked straight back out without a word.

Jake couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t show your face in that building for a week.

Now every time you pass that hallway, he leans in with a whisper and a smug, “Wanna relive the glory days?”

You elbow him. Hard. But your ears still burn.

Because the worst part? You absolutely do.

You hadn’t even had a chance to settle into the cozy atmosphere of a movie night with Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo before everything went to hell.

It was supposed to be a simple night. You, Jake, and his friends, chilling on the couch, watching some random movie Sunghoon picked out after a few too many awkward silences. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for this, maybe even looking forward to getting to know his friends better. You’d heard so much about them, and Sunoo had been sending you memes for weeks now, always so sweet and teasing.

But instead of a normal movie night, you ended up on Jake’s lap with your lips pressed to his, unable to hold back as he slipped his hands beneath your hoodie. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and you completely forgot about the stupid film Sunghoon had started. All that mattered was the heat building between you and Jake, the sound of his breath against your mouth, the way he was slowly getting bolder, moving his lips to your neck—

And then, the unmistakable sound of a throat clearing from across the room.

You froze, eyes widening, and pulled back from Jake just as Sunghoon and Sunoo exchanged awkward glances.

“Well,” Sunghoon said, adjusting his glasses with a little too much casualness, “This is… an interesting way to start a movie night.”

You sat up quickly, heart racing. “We—uh, we weren’t—”

Sunoo cut you off with a laugh that had a slightly knowing edge to it. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse. But wow, didn’t think I’d be walking in on this so soon.”

You could feel your face heating up, but Jake, the menace, only smirked, his arm still casually draped around you. “I was just showing her how comfortable the couch is. Isn’t it nice, babe?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at that, glancing between you two. “Comfortable, huh? Good to know.”

Sunoo chuckled. “I guess I’m glad we finally got a front-row seat to Jake’s ‘split personality.’” His voice dropped to an exaggerated whisper, adding, “Who knew the shy, awkward guy could get so… intense.”

You looked at Jake, whose eyes were practically glowing with mischief. You knew exactly what that meant.

“I told you guys,” Jake said, sliding his fingers through your hair, his voice low and smooth. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger. Not just with the whole ‘studious boyfriend’ act.”

Sunghoon chuckled and shook his head. “I’m just here for the popcorn, but whatever you guys are doing, you’re definitely ruining the vibe of the movie.”

You swore you could feel the heat radiating from your face, but Jake was entirely too smug, his hand never leaving your waist. “Movie’s overrated anyway,” he said with a wink. “Better company right here.”

The tension in the room was palpable, but somehow, you knew this was just the beginning. Jake wasn’t about to stop teasing you in front of his friends, and now they definitely knew what he was like when he wasn’t playing the quiet, shy guy.

It had been exactly one month since you and Jake made things official, and somewhere along the way, he had somehow charmed all your friends.

Yuna, especially.

What started off as teasing glances and snarky comments turned into him greeting her with “What’s up, my other girl?” in front of literally everyone—like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You’d laughed the first time. Sort of.

The second time, your smile was tight.

By the third, you didn’t even look at him. Just turned around, grabbed your bag, and left without a word. The silence that followed was deafening.

He texted. Called. Showed up at your dorm with snacks, guilty puppy-dog eyes, and one of your hoodies you’d accidentally left at his place.

You didn’t budge.

Not when he spammed you with voice memos or when he got Sunoo to send you dramatic apologies on his behalf. Not even when Yuna told you that Jake had asked herhow to fix it, which was ironic in the most painful way possible.

A week passed. You were starting to miss him—his touch, his stupid jokes, the way he looked at you like you hung stars in his sky—but you were petty, and prideful, and notabout to forgive him over something as dumb as a nickname that made your stomach twist.

But Jake knew you. And Jake never lost.

The night you finally gave in, he showed up to your dorm without a word, eyes dark, hands careful. He didn’t ask if he could stay. Just got down on his knees, pulled you to the edge of the bed, and showed you how sorry he was.

You didn’t even realize your fingers were tangled in his hair, hips shaking as he flicked your clit around with his tongue, breath caught somewhere between a moan and a sob.

By the time he looked up, lips swollen, pupils blown wide, your legs were trembling and you couldn’t remember what planet you were on.

“Still mad at me?” he asked, voice hoarse, a little smug, but mostly sincere.

You tried to speak, failed. All you could do was blink down at him.

He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Good. Because you’re my only girl.”

And yeah—he won. Again.

The next morning, Jake acted like nothing happened.

He was sprawled across your tiny dorm bed, hair a mess, hoodie half-off his shoulder, munching on the cereal you kept strictly for late-night study stress. Like he hadn’t just given you an out-of-body experience twelve hours ago.

You stood at the mirror brushing your hair, shooting him a look through the reflection. “You’re really just gonna sit there like you didn’t have me literally sobbing last night?”

Jake grinned around a spoonful of cereal. “I figured you forgave me when you couldn’t feel your legs after.”

You tossed a hair tie at him. He dodged, laughing.

“You’re lucky I didn’t call you a cab,” you said, turning back around.

“I am lucky,” he said, voice lower now, more serious, “but not just for that.”

You paused. Met his eyes.

Jake set the bowl aside and stood up, crossing the room to wrap his arms around your waist from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder, voice soft. “I’m sorry for the Yuna thing. I thought I was being funny. I didn’t realize it hurt you.”

You didn’t respond right away. He held you tighter.

“You know I only want you, right?”

You nodded, finally. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m your idiot.”

You rolled your eyes, but leaned into him anyway, the tension finally melting.

Later that day, Yuna raised an eyebrow as you walked into the café together, hand-in-hand with Jake.

“Back from the dead?” she teased.

Jake smirked. “Had to perform a little resurrection.”

You buried your face in your drink. Yuna just laughed.

“Oh god,” she muttered. “Don’t tell me it was head.”

Jake shot her a look. “Mind-blowing head.”

You choked.

“Please stop speaking,” you begged.

Jake just kissed your cheek and pulled you closer.

You really were doomed.

You’d completely forgotten your parents were in town until you got the text while Jake was still whispering absolute filth into your ear in the café line.

[Mom]: Just landed. So excited to see you, sweetie! Brunch tomorrow? Bring your boyfriend!

You choked on your iced americano so violently Jake had to pat your back.

“Everything okay?” he asked, smirking like he already knew it wasn’t.

You turned your phone around to show him the message.

He blinked. “Wait. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Like—your parents tomorrow?”

“Yes, Jake. My parents. Brunch. You. Me. And them.”

He stared at you for a full three seconds, then grinned. “I’ve already got the button-up shirt in mind.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re way too calm about this.”

“I’m amazing with parents.”

“You’re amazing at pretending to be someone’s quiet, innocent boyfriend. That’s not the same.”

Jake leaned in, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby. They’ll love me.”

“You’re gonna wear your glasses, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Act like you’ve never touched me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll act like I don’t even know what a woman is.”

You snorted, already stressed. “This is going to be a disaster.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Nah. I’m gonna charm them. Just like I charmed you.”

You turned to give him a look. “You charmed me by blowing my back out in a library storage room, Jake.”

“Exactly,” he said, way too proud.

You groaned.

Tomorrow could not come fast—or end—soon enough.

The next morning, Jake showed up ten minutes early to your dorm, looking like he’d walked straight out of a K-drama.

Crisp white button-up, hair brushed neatly off his forehead, his glasses perfectly in place—he even brought your mom’s favorite pastries, like he’d been studying your family’s group chat for weeks.

“You look…” You blinked, slowly dragging your gaze down his outfit. “So well-behaved.”

Jake smirked, tucking the pastry box under one arm and reaching for your hand. “Don’t worry. I left the demon version of me in your sheets.”

You nearly tripped on the way out the door.

Your parents were already waiting at the little brunch spot downtown, and as soon as your mom saw you, she lit up—then caught sight of Jake behind you and blinked like she was seeing a puppy dressed in a tuxedo.

“This is Jake?” she asked, already halfway through hugging him. “You’re even cuter than she said!”

Jake laughed, soft and shy, adjusting his glasses. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You sat stiffly across from them, fully prepared for the absolute chaos that was surely coming, but Jake? He played the role like he’d been training for it all his life.

He complimented your mom’s earrings. Asked your dad smart, boring questions about work. Even waited until you were done speaking before cutting into his food.

It was unsettling.

“Jake’s in my organic chem lecture,” you said at one point, trying to keep the conversation neutral.

“Oh, is he any good?” your dad asked.

Jake smiled bashfully. “She usually tutors me, actually. I’m a bit hopeless when it comes to chemistry.”

You almost choked on your orange juice.

Your mom beamed. “I love that. I always told her she’d be such a good teacher.”

Jake nodded sincerely, resting his hand on your knee under the table, subtle and grounding. “She’s been teaching me a lot.”

Your stomach flipped for a very different reason.

By the end of brunch, your mom was begging him to come over for dinner “next time we visit,” and your dad gave him a shoulder pat like he’d just been accepted into the family.

As soon as you were out of earshot, walking back toward campus, you smacked his arm. “You manipulative little bitch!”

Jake grinned, holding up the box of leftover pastries like a trophy. “They love me.”

“You were lying through your teeth!”

Jake shrugged. “It’s not lying if I really do think you’re amazing at teaching me things. Like patience. Self-control.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a menace.”

“And yet,” he said, stepping in close, voice low in your ear, “your mom just called me boyfriend material.”

You shoved him. “You are never seeing my parents again.”

“Sure, baby. You tell yourself that.”

And yeah, fine—he was boyfriend material. Just not the kind your parents had any idea about.

That night, you laid in bed scrolling through your messages while Jake sat cross-legged at the foot, shamelessly eating the last of the leftover pastries your mom had insisted he take.

Your phone buzzed again.

[Mom]: He’s adorable. Polite, smart, and that accent?? Keeper.

You rolled your eyes so hard your soul almost left your body.

Jake leaned over your shoulder. “What’d she say now?”

You turned the screen toward him. He read it, then bit into a croissant like he’d just won a championship.

“I am polite. And smart. And my voice is sexy, apparently.”

You deadpanned. “You’re a literal demon. With glasses.”

Jake leaned down and nuzzled against your neck with the fakest innocence he could muster. “You weren’t saying that when I was—”

You slapped a hand over his mouth. “No. My mom said ‘keeper.’ Don’t make me reevaluate.”

He laughed into your palm, biting it lightly before you yanked it back. He flopped onto the bed beside you, stretching out with a satisfied sigh like he’d just wrapped up a performance of a lifetime.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded. “Winning over your friends, seducing your parents…”

“Manipulating the entire population,” you muttered.

Jake turned his head, smirking. “But only for you.”

You tried not to melt. You really did. But then he pulled you down beside him, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into the warm curve of his body.

“You know,” he whispered, voice dropping back into that cocky, devastating register, “your parents think I’m this sweet, respectful, glasses-wearing boyfriend who can’t even pass chem without your help.”

You blinked up at him, breath catching.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “And they’ll never know what their daughter sounds like when she’s underneath me, begging.”

You slapped his chest with a muffled laugh, face buried in his shirt. “You’re the worst.”

Jake just grinned against your temple.

“I’m yours.”

The next morning, Jake was already pulling on his hoodie, his bags—stuffed with random clothes, books, and a few things that had slowly found their way into your dorm—strewn across your floor.

You sat up in bed, the lingering warmth of his body beside you still making your heart flutter. It had become a regular thing now—Jake staying over, bringing more of his things each time, settling into a routine that felt strangely comfortable. It was a mixture of affection and chaos, and you loved every minute of it.

“You should’ve just left your stuff here last night,” you teased, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Could’ve saved us the trouble.”

Jake smirked, looking up from rummaging through his backpack. “Don’t want to seem too comfortable too soon, babe. You know, I’ve still got that mysterious ‘bad boy’ act to keep up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what you’re going for.”

He shot you a wink, tossing a hoodie at you. “Anyway, can’t let the world see the ‘good boy’ too much, can I?”

He was back to his cocky self, the guy who showed up to school acting like the confident, teasing Jake you had come to know, and honestly, you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly he flipped between his personas.

You both left the dorm and started the walk to campus, his hand in yours, the usual mix of comfortable silence and random teasing that filled your daily routines.

Just as you were about to walk up the steps to your building, Jake, always the graceful disaster, tripped on the stairs and sent his coffee flying across the sidewalk.

“Are you serious?” you asked, blinking in disbelief.

Jake stood there for a second, coffee splattered all over his hoodie and the ground beneath him, looking utterly stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You couldn’t stop laughing. “Every time. I swear to god, you’re like a walking disaster.”

Jake turned to you, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to play it off. “I meant to do that. Just making sure everyone’s paying attention.”

“Yeah, you definitely got their attention, Jake,” you teased. “Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone saw your epic performance.”

He shot you a grin, wiping at his clothes like it would make a difference. “I’m not a loser. I’m just… trying to get a reaction.”

“And you definitely got one,” you snorted, taking his hand and leading him inside.

Even though he tried to play it off as cool, the truth was, you were starting to see a side of Jake that was a little more… normal than you first expected.

And as ridiculous as the whole thing was, there was something about it—the balance of confident teasing and hilarious clumsiness—that felt right.

At least, for you and him, it did.

You nudged him with your elbow. “You gonna be okay, or do I need to get you another one before you wither away in front of me?”

Jake groaned dramatically. “I needed that caffeine. My whole personality relies on it.”

You laughed as you pushed open the lecture hall doors. “Your personality is currently soaked into your hoodie.”

Unfortunately for Jake, your shared class had already started to fill up. A few people looked up as you both walked in—him with wet coffee splatter down his front, you trying not to laugh loud enough for the whole room to hear.

“Is that Jake Sim?” someone whispered behind you.

You heard a snort. “Why does he look like someone’s intern who just got fired?”

Jake sat down beside you with a huff, dropping his bag and whispering, “This is the most humbling morning of my life.”

You rached over, wiped a little splatter off his sleeve, and leaned close. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He blinked at you, caught off guard. “Wait. You think I’m cute even like this?”

You grinned. “I think you’re cute especially like this.”

Jake slumped in his chair, defeated but amused. “I’m literally a walking split personality. Demon boyfriend at night, clumsy nerd by morning. This isn’t sustainable.”

“You say that like I’m not completely obsessed with both versions.”

He paused, looking at you with that soft, wide-eyed gaze he got when you caught him off guard.

“Yeah?” he said, quieter this time.

You nodded, bumping your knee against his. “Yeah.”

Jake smiled down at his ruined coffee cup.

“Still not over the fact I tripped in front of like thirty people though,” he muttered, and you snorted so loud the row in front of you turned around.

At least now, everyone knew—Jake Sim might’ve been a quiet loser to the rest of the campus, but to you?

He was everything.

perm taglist: @kristynaaah @firstclassjaylee @chvconn3 @wonzzziezzzz @sheseung @blvengene @gvtdoll @a3r4-for3ver @sunghoon-cam @luvksnn @aaaaarmiiiiin @blckorchidd @gyulune @marimariiisblog @pinknjm @bloomiize

[bunnis-monsters]

Your puppy girl

Fem!Werewolf x Fem!Reader

a/n: Patreon and kofi got to read this nearly 2 months early! This was a commission ^^

warnings: somno, pet play, pussy eating, fingering, panty stealing

WC: 5k+

In the dead of winter, the outside world looked more and more like a blank canvas ready to be painted upon each day that passed.

You have always enjoyed this time of year. Although the cold may bring unpleasant feelings and sickness, it could bring community and so much warmth as well.

People banded together when snow began to fall, offering shelter and food to those in need.

You were no different.

It had been a normal day, with the usual drama at work and a busy ride home. All you wanted was some peace and quiet in the sanctity of your cozy apartment… unfortunately, many things would happen that changed your life forever.

If only you had people to spend such a lonely and isolating winter with.

You spent most days alone. No significant other, no hobbies that made life worth living. If you were being honest with yourself, you were just living day to day, hoping to find something that gave you the strength to keep going.

For now, though, you would work, eat, sleep, and do the same thing the next day. No friends, no close friends…

Just you.

The sun was finally setting, and you stared out at the orange and red hues as they danced across the sky. Never before had you seen such a beautiful sunset.

It wasn’t like you to linger by the steps of your apartment for very long after you returned home. Usually, you were quick to get inside so you could take off your heavy winter coat and relax by the fire.

However you stopped to stare at that beautiful sunset, just long enough for some strange events to be set into motion.

While staring out into the sky, you heard something from the woods nearby. It sounded like someone, or well, something crying out to any nearby people for help.

Your first thought was an animal had fallen into the pond out in the woods and gotten itself hurt. It wasn’t uncommon, but something made you doubt that theory.

“Could be a wounded animal… or someone in need of help.”

Either way, you weren’t going to wait around while the owner of that voice was in the freezing cold, possibly hurt and scared.

You could remember what that was like. There had been times in the past when you were left all alone, abandoned in your time of need.

It wasn’t right to stand by while others suffered.

The path into the woods was slick with ice and snow, and you had to hold onto a nearby tree when you slipped and almost fell on your ass. You really weren’t wearing the correct shoes to be trudging through the slurry of icy mud and snow but there wasn’t time for a change of clothes and foot apparel,

The cries grew louder the further you trekked. As you passed the undisturbed pond, you were relieved to know no one had fallen into it. You weren’t sure if you would have been able to help someone if they had.

By the time you reached what was making the noise, the volume of its cries had risen so high that you could hardly heat anything else.

What seemed to be a medium sized dog was laying on the ground on its side, howling and barking before letting out those familiar heart wrenching cries.

Its fur was dark brown, almost black, but with the little light that remained you could see its true color.

“Hey…”

The dog went quiet when you spoke. With its ears perked up, you could tell it was on high alert.

“Are you hurt, little one?”

You crouched down, examining its pelt. There seemed to be no obvious injuries besides its leg being a bit… off looking. “Must of sprained your ankle… with how slippery these paths are, I can understand how.”

Usually, a stray or wild dog wouldn’t let you touch it, but this one didn’t seem to mind when you hoisted it up and walked on your way home. “You’re a big and fluffy thing, aren’t you?”

It was bigger than usual, and you made sure to walk slow and steady through the icy woods. Tripping and falling onto this already scared and injured animal wouldn’t turn out well for either of you.

The first thing you did when you got home was try off their fur. Placing it in front of a heater, you rubbed the towel over its pelt, watching as it closed its eyes in contentment while warm air flowed towards its face.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

The more this dog relaxed in your presence, the more you figured it was someone’s pet. Why else would it be so calm while injured?

After it was warm and dry, you ran your fingers through its fur, thoroughly examining each part of its body to make sure there were no other wounds.

There were a few scratches and cuts, but each one was either old or already healing up. The sprained ankle was what you were most worried about.

As you began examining the bruised and swollen ankle, the fog sniffed at your shoulder and neck, giving your cheek a lick. You smiled down at it, scratching behind its ear. “I bet you have an owner, hmm? You’re a sweet pup.”

Its tail wagged at your words, that seemed to make it happy.

“Isn’t that better?” you cooed, looking down at its bandaged foot. The dog stood and took a few cautious steps. When it realized it could walk slowly without much pain, it barked and wagged its tail before sniffing you again.

“I’ll have to take you to the shelter tomorrow… your owner is probably worried sick.”

You would have done so that night, but carrying a heavy dog home and working a full day had you exhausted. Besides, what animal shelter would be open past 8 pm?

You got to work making yourself some dinner, feeding the dog some of the food from your plate. Pets weren’t really allowed in your complex and any strays were chased off by your landlord, so you didn’t keep any dog food on you.

It gobbled up anything you gave it, sitting by your side as you ate at the kitchen table. A slobbery pink tongue lapped at your hand, licking up any leftover bits of food.

“Hey, ew!” you giggled out, wiping your hand on your jeans. “Sorry, I know you must be hungry. I have some ham in the fridge…”

As it ate some leftover ham, you went to shower.

~

Walking around with only a towel, you lifted an eyebrow when you noticed the dog was gone. Hoping it hadn’t run to some corner of your apartment to take a piss and ruin your deposit, you began to look for it.

“C’mere, pup…” you called out, glancing behind your couch. “I got some more ham, c’mon. I gotta take you outside to use the bathroom before I go to bed.”

When you couldn’t find it in the living room, bathroom, or even the storage closet, you turned towards your room. The door was cracked open, when you remembered closing it that morning.

For some reason, you felt… uneasy. There was this primal fear that there were predatory eyes on you, and the hair on your beck was standing on end.

“Hello..?”

You flicked on the light to your bedroom, immediately spotting a lump in your plush comforter. Your shoulders relaxed and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding.

“Ah, this is where you went… you have to get off of my bed. I haven’t given you a bath and you could have fleas or-“

The words died in your throat as you yanked off the comforter.

Instead of the ball of fluff you had been expecting to see, your eyes were met with a woman around your age, curled up in your bed.

She stared up at you with wild, yellow eyes, a pair of dog ears on top of her head perking up.

The woman was completely nude, blinking in shock before skittering back. Her back pressed against your headboard, and you stared back with your jaw agape.

It took you both a moment to process what was going on.

Should you scream? Was this a fight or flight situation?

Surprisingly, you were way calmer than you thought you would have been in a situation like this. For god’s sake, there was a naked woman in your bed and you sure as hell hadn’t scheduled a booty call!

“Don’t… be upset.”

The woman’s voice was deep, almost soothing. Her yellow eyes flicked up to meet yours, and she slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket.

Bandages covered her ankle… this was-

“Oh my god.”

The dog ears, they weren’t some kind of accessory. No… they were real, and so was that tail you could see wagging nervously.

“I’m not human… that’s obvious. I will explain, I swear…” the woman sighed, the dark bags under her eyes crinkling slightly. “But I’m so tired, and the winter this year is harsh. Please… could I stay the night? I’ll tell you all you want to know in the morning…”

You stood there, contemplating your choices. While you were still flabbergasted at the situation you had gotten yourself into, you were able to slowly steady your racing heart.

The situation has not truly changed all that much. There was a being that needed your help, and you had brought that dog home knowing it could bite you or spread disease.

Could you not give an at least partial human being the same courtesy you gave an animal? It would be… inhumane to kick her out into the cold while she was injured and naked, especially when it was pitch black outside.

“… go to the living room, I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

The woman darted past you with a swiftness that wouldn’t come easy to a human being of a similar stature. She really wasn’t human, but you weren’t quite sure what “non-human” was.

As you gathered an oversized shirt and some pajama pants that would be bagger on her lean frame, you pondered what exactly your next step should be.

When morning would come, what would you do?

Your original plan had been to take the dog to the shelter. It wasn’t feasible for you to take care of an animal while you were living in a tiny apartment.

This was different, though. The shelter wouldn’t accept her, of course not, but you weren’t sure if a human shelter would accept her either.

“Thank you…” she said softly, looking up through her thick eyelashes. When you paid more attention, you noticed how pretty she was. Yellow eyes that shone in the dim light of your living room, soft looking black hair, and a nice figure…

“It’s no problem. We’ll talk in the morning, alright? Get some sleep.”

You locked your door that night. Despite being kind enough to let a stranger into your home, your big heart didn’t make you stupid.

After you were sound asleep, the woman stood, her cheeks flushed a dark pink. There was a smell that had her body trembling with need, and she had been struggling to contain her lust all night.

She snuck into the bathroom, searching around silently until she found the source of that smell that drove her crazy.

A pair of lacy panties, the crotch slightly damp. She could remember you emitting a smell of arousal earlier when you were on your phone, and she was incredibly curious.

What had gotten you this worked up?

She lifted the pair to her nose, taking an intense whiff before letting out a shuddering moan. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as the heavenly scent filled her nostrils.

It was a bit embarrassing, but she slowly poked out her tongue to lick the damp spot, immediately growing wet at your taste.

You had been so kind to her, for no reason at all. When most people and werewolves alike would have swiftly abandoned an injured pup like her, you instead let her into her home.

Not only did you care for her wounds, but you fed and even clothed her.

She was just smitten.

Her hand moved to her now clothed cunt. She felt a bit guilty getting the pajamas you gave her dirty, but she couldn’t help but touch herself through the fabric.

“Mmph…”

The sound of her tail wagging and thumping against the floor could be heard by the downstairs neighbors. She was too busy getting off to the thought of devouring your pretty pussy to notice…

~

In the morning, you called in sick to work. It just wouldn’t be possible for you to leave this… person in your house while you were gone.

“Alright, you promised you’d explain,” you said, placing a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her. “Get to talking.”

You waited patiently as she wolfed down the breakfast you had prepared for her. She seemed even hungrier than she had been the night before, if it was possible.

“So… I’m a werewolf.”

Well, that wasn’t a huge shock. The revelation made relative sense, she could turn into a dog-like creature after all.

“I thought werewolves were like… big, hairy monsters. You turn into a medium sized dog.”

The woman huffed at that, waving her fork. “Well sorry, but over time werewolves have bred with basic humans and our transformations have become weaker each generation. Only a selective few can muster a full transformation, and they’re usually from families that do… the whole inbreeding thing.”

You rubbed your temple. Learning about werewolves at all wasn’t something you were super interested in, and now she was giving you more info than you needed.

“Alright, alright. You’re a werewolf. What about your living situation?”

The mood changed, the woman’s eyes becoming a bit dark and distant as she looked away.

“… even for my generation, my transformation is weak. I was kicked out of my pack when I came of age, and I’ve been pretty much winging it ever since.”

It was quiet for a moment. The situation she was in reminded you of many stories you heard from other people. Fresh adults being kicked out for being different, it was a tale as old as time.

“I see…”

Something clicked in your mind as you watched the way she curled up on your couch, her knees pressing against her chest.

“You don’t have anywhere to stay?”

With a nod, she took another bite of the second you heaped onto her plate. “Nope…”

You hoped you wouldn’t regret what you were about to say.

“This winter has been pretty harsh so far… alright. At least until winter is over, you can stay here.”

Maybe with another person living with you, even for just a while, you’d be less lonely during the most depressing season of the year.

She perked up, her tail beginning to wag as her eyes brightened. “You mean it? I can-“

“You’ll be paying for your own rent and food, of course.”

This made her pout a little, which you found strangely cute. “Of course… I can hunt for my own food. We can discuss rent after a shower, I’m sure I don’t smell very pleasant.”

She wasn’t wrong.

~

You curled up in bed after a long day. After taking her to buy some clothes and essentials, she handed over a wad of cash to be used for rent. It seemed she had enough money to keep herself afloat…

Renting wasn’t easy though, and you could understand why. Hiding her nature proved difficult. She was kicked out of several places for having a pet she wasn’t supposed to… but the werewolf was the very dog they accused her of having.

You turned on your side, rubbing your tired eyes. Work was a must, and you refused to miss another day.

Once you drifted off and your breathing evened out, your door creaked open.

A pair of yellow eyes peeked into your room, the soft swishing sound of her tail wagging mixing with the soft hum of your heater.

Like a true predator of the night, she snuck closer. It was easy to climb into your bed without your noticing. You were a heavy sleeper, and she was stealthy.

Her eyes settled on your breasts, your pretty nipples poking your thin shirt. The air was a bit chilly, she had noticed that when she walked in.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up…’

You were her savior, and all she wanted to do was repay you!

And maybe she was a little horny too…

Her fingers toyed with your nipples through your shirt as her knee rubbed against your clothed cunt.

She gave your breasts a squeeze, her wolf ears twitching when you whined in your sleep. ‘Ahh, so cute…’

After she gave you a nuzzle with her nose, she peppered kisses along your neck and chest, licking your exposed skin.

Taking off your shirt without waking you wasn’t easy, but she was fast and good at reading your body language.

Her lips wrapped around one of your nipples, and she began lightly humping your leg as she suckled gently. Your panties were getting wet, and the way she was toying with your clit through the damp fabric wasn’t helping things.

That pretty pussy of yours was oozing with arousal, and she abandoned your breasts immediately. Her eyes locked onto your panties, and she pulled them back just enough to get a good look at you.

From your puffy lips to your cute, throbbing clit, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Already, drool fell down her chin and she couldn’t help but give you a little lick.

You tasted like Heaven, and she was addicted.

Soon her tongue was buried in your pussy, her hands keeping your thighs apart. You squirmed and whined in your sleep, and she had to pull away before you came.

Even with her skill, she was surprised you hadn’t woken up yet. Now she knew how much she could get away with before you were stirred from sleep…

After she dressed you again, the werewolf girl left your room, yearning for more.

How could she please you next?

~

For the next week or so, you became well acquainted with your new puppy.

Most of the time, she acted more like a dog than a human. When you got home from work, she’d jump up from wherever she’d been sitting and run to the door, sniffing and nuzzling against you.

You figured it was just a thing werewolves did, and didn’t question how quickly she had bonded with you.

More often than not you’d spot her making some sort of nest out of your blanket and clothes, all curled up and happy. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, per say, but you wished she wouldn’t get your blankets and clothes all filthy with dirt and some kind of sticky substance.

Was she eating something gooey while bundled up..? It smelled… musky…

You scratched her head, letting out a sigh as she carried around your hoodie. “It’s the middle of winter now. You don’t have any warm clothes, do you?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, not really. It’s been hard finding work because I have nothing to wear.”

You rubbed your temple. “I have my day off tomorrow… I was going to pig out on snacks and sleep in, but I guess we’ll go shopping instead.”

She didn’t seem to sense your annoyance, and only gave your hand a happy lick before climbing into your lap.

That was normal, right? Her licking your face, curling up in your lap, and nibbling on your neck and ears was just… common werewolf behavior, wasn’t it?

In the morning, she bundled up in one of your coats and followed after you as the two of you walked along the icy sidewalks. Snow fell lazily, covering the hood of your jacket.

“I’ve never been shopping before.”

You glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “Where did you get your clothes from, then?”

Her eyes hardened, and she opened the first shop door with a huff. “When I was in my pack, we stayed in our wolf forms. No need for clothes… and when I was kicked out, I stole and looked through dumpsters.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. It hurt knowing such a friendly girl had been thrown out for not meeting the pack’s standards.

“Well, shopping is pretty fun. C’mon.”

The two of you started off with some casual winter clothes. Long sleeved shirts, pants, and lots of layers. She favored earthy colors like green and brown, but you noticed a few pink and yellow items in her bag.

“Your shoes are worn out, let’s find you a better pair of boots.”

You helped her try on multiple pairs before she settled on some brown boots with fluffy pompoms. “Ahh, these are very warm and sturdy…”

“The pompoms are cute, too. You look good in them.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at your compliment, and her tail thumped around under her skirt. You had to be careful, someone would notice her tail moving.

Before leaving the house, you covered her ears and tail. If someone found out what she was, you’d both be in danger.

“… come on, let’s go to the next store.”

On your way to find her some underwear and bras, she turned towards a pet store. Her eyes were on a picture of a dog on the front window.

“This is a pet store..?” you whispered as she browsed the selection. Despite your words, the werewolf continued to look through the dog treats.

“Guess I’ll leave you to it.”

You walked around the store, only glancing at the shelves for a moment before moving on.

There were Christmas decorations covering the shelves, making you remember that it was only a few days before the holiday.

‘Guess I can get her a little something…’

You peaked into the aisle, watching as she stared at a frilly pink collar, with a bell and ribbon at the front. She picked it up, jingling the bell and letting out an interested “ooo”.

After getting home, you wrapped up the collar and leash with your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Imagining her with that collar on… made you feel strange.

On Christmas morning, she yawned as you placed a plate of waffles in front of her. She didn’t seem to know about the holiday, so you petted her head before bringing her to the tree.

Over the past month, the two of you had become close and you had come to care for her. She made everything a lot less lonely, and you wanted to repay her.

“This is for you…”

She blinked as you set the present in her lap. Her tail began to wag, and she unwrapped it quickly.

When she pulled out the pink collar, her eyes widened. “You… got this for me?”

Her entire face was red, and her tail thumped against the floor so hard it looked like it hurt.

“I just wanted to thank you. It’s been nice having someone around for a change…”

You weren’t good at this. It had been several years since you last have someone a gift, and never before had you gifted a collar and leash.

She stared down at the collar for a moment before she pickled the clasp atound her neck, her yellow eyes looking up at you.

“I love it… but I didn’t get you anything…”

For a moment she seemed guilty, her wolf ears flattening against her head. This didn’t last for long.

Her eyes sparkled when she had an idea. Suddenly, her leash was in your hand, and she sat at your feet like an obedient puppy as she pawed at your pajama pants.

“W-what are you doing?” you stuttered out, yelping when she pulled down your pants and buried her face into your clothed cunt.

“This is your present…”

She licked you through your panties, letting out a happy yip when she tasted your arousal. It was her favorite!

“B-but..!”

You groaned, your hand grabbing a fistful of her hair. It felt too good, her tongue was long and a bit rough. You could feel it, even through your thick cotton panties.

“You always like it when I lick here…” she said with a sigh, looking up at you dreamily. “Nearly wakes you up sometimes…”

It took you a few seconds to process the implication behind her words. “You do this when I’m sleeping?!”

She nodded, nuzzling her nose against your panties. “Of course! I have to make my mate happy and relaxed!”

Her… mate?

It was clear that werewolves had a different idea of what was and wasn’t allowed. Still, you huffed and pulled her closer, pulling your panties to the side.

“If this is a gift, then do it right, pup.”

You tugged on her leash, and she complied immediately.

Her tongue lapped at your folds, as if testing the waters. When she wasn’t fast enough, you have her leash another tug. “C’mon, don’t act shy now. You’ve been eating my pussy for a month while I sleep, now get in there.”

She whined a bit, her cheeks red when she latched onto your clit. It throbbed in her mouth, and she suckled gently while her pants clutched your soft thighs.

She moved her mouth to your hole, lapping at it before pushing her tongue in. Your pussy was dripping, and she licked up every single drop.

“Use your fingers too, pup…”

Tentatively, she pushed a finger into you, moving it in and out. When you let out a satisfied moan, her tail began to pick up speed. “Like this?”

“Mhm… such a good girl…”

You cupped her cheek, watching her eat you out. Her cute, pink tongue moved out your clit as she inserted another finger, stretching you out a bit.

“Mmm… lay down for me, okay?”

Like the obedient puppy she was, she immediately laid on her back. Her fluffy tail was tucked between her legs, a sign of submission.

“Lemme see…”

You moved her tail out of the way, smirking at how wet she had gotten. “All this from tasting my pussy? Such a naughty girl…”

Your thumb brushed against her clit, and her back arched up. She was so desperate and sensitive, her tongue poking out as she panted heavily.

“Patience…”

You hooked her leash onto the couch, offering her your pussy as you moved to eat out hers. 69ing had being something you had only seen in porn, and you were excited to try.

Instantly she was drawn to your pushy, devouring it like a mindless beast. You moved your hips, riding her face a bit before you leaned down to get your first taste of her.

She almost tasted sweet, and you were quick to bury your tongue into her cunt. The little noises she made while you explored her with your tongue and fingers were adorable, and you held down her hips every time she tried to buck them into your mouth.

“Easy, pup. Keep doing that and I’ll stop.”

It was so hard to control herself, so she took out her frustration on your cunt. She sucked on your fat pussy lips, ignoring your engorged clit. It seemed like she was being a bit of a brat.

You’d have to fix that.

With a yank of her collar, you cooed and guided her mouth back to your clit. “Right there, puppy. Such a silly girl, don’t even know where to make me feel good do you? You wouldn’t do that on purpose, you’re supposed to be my sweet puppy.”

She blushed, and obediently went back to suckling on your clit. One hand stayed at your cunt, pumping her fingers in and out, while the other one held onto your plump ass.

“That’s my girl…”

To reward her good behavior, you added another finger, stretching out her hole. “See what good puppies get? They get their cunt stretched out.”

“I-I’m a good puppy! Promise!” she babbled around your clit, suckling harder. “I wanna make you feel good…”

You smiled, giving her clit another lick before latching on. You could feel her body trembling beneath you, and orgasm incoming. She was so close, and since she was being a good pup you decided to let her cum.

As she came, you started to ride her face clit brushing against her nose. She was in a daze, completely absorbed in your pussy and scent.

The only thing she could think about was how happy she was when you came in her mouth.

Once the two of you were thoroughly satisfied, you held her limp body in your lap. You squeezed her tits with one hand, the other rubbing circles into her overstimulated clit.

“Who’s my good puppy?”

She whimpered, keeping her legs open for you.

“Me…”

After this, the two of you decided it was best if she simply continued to live with you. After all, you were lonely and she had nowhere else to go. It was a win-win!

Every morning you woke up to her licking your cunt through your panties, ready to start the day by pleasing her mate. She was basically attached to your cunt, always wanting to be between your legs.

When you left, she missed you so much that she’d chew on your panties when you were gone, rubbing the clothing item between her legs and cumming all over them.

Of course, you didn’t mind at all. You had grown fond of her, and the two of you became a thing.

As she held your hand while walking to a restaurant for dinner, her pink collar jingled and you couldn’t help but tug a bit on her leash to hear that sweet sound again.

Your sweet pup was as happy as could be, and you were as well.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

[iknow-youknow-hyunho]

feels so good (minsung x afab!reader)

Rating: Explicit (minors DO NOT INTERACT!)

Pairing: Lee Minho x Han Jisung x Reader – reader is AFAB, I used they/them pronouns when pronouns were unavoidable + there is no description of the reader’s appearance or body (except for naming body parts, referred to as “pussy” and “breasts”)

Word count: ~14,5k

Summary: You go to a party at the SKZ dorms, play some party games, and things take a somewhat unexpected twist at the end of the night.

Content warnings: alcohol + drinking games (but no one is particularly drunk), explicit language, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), P in V sex, scratching, light spanking, use of pet names (“baby”, “kitten”)

Author’s note: this is my first SKZ fic, I hope you enjoy <3 would appreciate any and all feedback! Use protection and don’t forget to pee after sex if u have a vagina xoxo.

It was party night with Stray Kids. You were looking forward to this, but you were also quite nervous. You hadn’t been a part of their close circle for very long yet and you’d only partied with them a couple of times before in that time period. Their schedules didn’t often allow for very much time off, especially with all eight of them being free on the same evening and the next day as well. This was one of those rare instances in which they all had an entire weekend off, so you knew what that meant.

Yes, the boys were all in their twenties, but they still often acted like a group of rowdy teenagers, and if you were honest, this was one of the things you loved most about them. You liked that they didn’t take things too seriously, that they enjoyed games and having fun and doing whatever it was they felt like without worrying about what anyone else thought. They were pretty accustomed to acting silly on camera already, but especially in the privacy of their own homes, they really didn’t hold back. You enjoyed being around that kind of energy because you had always struggled to fully let out your crazy, playful side. But simply by being around them for a couple of months at this point, you were slowly starting to loosen up. And so tonight would be good. You just hoped that you could leave your worries behind and let yourself fully enjoy the chaos.

Of course it didn’t help that you had a massive crush on Minho, of all people, and were mortified of him finding out. He was so hard to read and it was definitely taking him the longest out of everyone to really thaw to you, although you did get along fairly well by now. But it just hadn’t quite reached that place of effortless ease yet that you’d gotten to naturally with most of the others – some more so than the rest. You got along particularly well with Jisung and Hyunjin and had become very comfortable being your true self around them. The rest of the group even joked around that you were Minho’s unofficial Paboracha replacement member when he wasn’t around, which happened occasionally. He was fond of quiet alone time just as much as he loved hanging out with the rest of the gang, which was something you could relate to and yet another reason you felt drawn to him. But you were very afraid of being laughed at should he find out how you felt. You knew him well enough to be pretty sure he would never be so cruel, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but your stupid anxiety-riddled brain still loved to present you with worst-case scenarios that you couldn’t quite disregard.

On top of that, you genuinely weren’t sure if there was something romantic going on between him and Jisung and did not want to cause problems if there was. Stray Kids were all fairly open with each other in terms of physical and emotional closeness – and had, at least partially, begun to include you in that, which you loved. They were like this even more so when the cameras were off, but you still didn’t know if there were any relationship boundaries that you weren’t aware of and did not want to unintentionally step on anyone’s toes. So needless to say, you felt there was a lot at stake.

You didn’t think it was completely unrealistic that your crush would come out at some point tonight, even though you hadn’t explicitly confessed it to anybody yet. The group was very used to teasing each other, didn’t seem to have many secrets between them, and was extremely good at reading each other – not surprising, given the sheer amount of time everyone spent together. Add alcohol and party games to the mix and the chances became exponentially higher of your secret seeing the light of day. You knew that none of the boys would ever cross any boundaries if you seriously set them and told them you didn’t want to talk about something, but you were afraid your behavior would give you away regardless. Still, you were excited for a night of fun and craziness with your eight favorite people, and you didn’t want to let your worries take that away from you.

As you were making your way over to the dorms, specifically Felix and Seungmin’s, which had been decided on as the location for tonight’s party, your phone buzzed. Minho had just texted the group chat that he would be running late, as he was still taking care of a few things. At first, disappointment washed over you. You were very much looking forward to seeing him – even if the interactions between you two didn’t always flow as easily as you wanted, just being around him made you happy. But when you thought about it a little longer, you realized this could be a good thing. It could give you a chance to loosen up and get used to the atmosphere enough to hopefully get out of your head and into the moment as much as possible by the time he got there. With that slight bit of relief in mind, you quickened your pace as you got off the subway and soon arrived at the SKZ dorms, where Felix buzzed you in once you texted him that you were downstairs. He was waiting to greet you at the door of his dorm with an enormous grin on his face and you felt your heart warm instantly at the sight.

---

It was a couple of drinks, some chatting and a few quick games into the night. The atmosphere was light-hearted, everyone was loose and laughing, and you could tell the general consensus was to spice things up a little bit. And so you weren’t particularly surprised when Felix suggested playing Truth or Dare. It was a game that combined everything he loved: seeing his best friends be silly as well as bonding over shared secrets and anecdotes. Jisung, a lover of chaos, shouted his agreement quickly once Felix brought up the suggestion. Jeongin and Chan pretended like they didn’t want to play at first, but you knew from experience that once the game started, Chan could never hide his genuine laugh at the antics, while Jeongin’s appalled face in situations like these was always put on and he was, in fact, enjoying himself. The two of them alone couldn’t override the rest of the group’s wishes regardless. Even if they’d truly wanted to – one look at Felix’s pleading pout would turn anyone weak.

And so Seungmin began smirking while Changbin rubbed his hands together in glee as you all settled in a circle. Some of you sat on the floor, some on the sofas and armchairs that stood around where the coffee table usually was; it had been moved to the side for tonight. Hyunjin plopped down onto a big armchair, pulling you with him. He casually rested his arms on top of your legs as you draped them across his. Once everyone had settled you made eye contact with Felix, whose eyes glinted from the other side of the circle, before he shifted them to look at the man sitting with you.

“Hyunjin, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Hyunjin smirked, radiating confidence, his facial expression basically begging Felix to do his worst. But it was Felix, and Felix was an angel who took every opportunity to see his friends be cute with each other, so he started the game off by daring Hyunjin to kiss anyone of his choosing on the cheek. You groaned in mock annoyance as Hyunjin shifted your legs off of him in order to fulfill his dare, but just before he could, Felix told him to wait and ran out of the room quickly. When he returned he was carrying red lipstick, which he handed to his friend. The latter took it from him reluctantly and Felix grinned in delight.

While Hyunjin was applying the lipstick, Changbin couldn’t stop himself from shouting out how beautiful he looked and proceeding to offer himself repeatedly and quite enthusiastically as the “kiss victim”. This earned him a light punch on the arm from Jisung, who was next to him on the ground. Hyunjin threw his head back, laughing out loud, and shot Changbin a grin before kneeling down next to Jeongin instead. Changbin crossed his arms and sent a mock-offended pout Hyunjin’s way, but he couldn’t hold his giggle back for long at the scene that was unfolding.

Jeongin was protesting vehemently and wailing as Hyunjin got closer and closer to him, straining his neck to move his head as far away as possible. But he couldn’t prevent the inevitable, and when Hyunjin gave him a big smacker on the cheek, leaving a bright red mark, the smile on his face spoke for itself – as did the overjoyed expressions on everyone else’s. Chan reached over to pinch a fake-pouty Jeongin’s other cheek, delighted. You found yourself grinning as well as a red-lipped Hyunjin returned to the armchair and you made space for him to get back into his earlier position, draping your legs back over his body and reaching up to run your hand over his hair affectionately as you did.

Hyunjin proceeded to dare Changbin to freestyle a sexy dance, which he gladly did, quickly hijacking the playlist in order to play one of his favorite girl group songs. Then he strutted into the center of the group, half-drunk beer in hand, and gave it his all, finishing his little dance off with a hip thrust and wink in Hyunjin’s direction. The latter couldn’t stop laughing in delight the entire time – you could feel his entire body vibrating from it and it made you giggle uncontrollably as well.

You took a moment to appreciate the pure positive energy in this room. Jeongin was still shielding his eyes from when Changbin had shaken his butt in his direction; Felix was grinning from ear to ear; Jisung was doubled over in tears from laughter. You felt so warm and fuzzy inside, surrounded by your favorite people. Only Minho was missing to complete this moment. But he would be here soon, and for now everything was going as you had hoped: you were feeling quite relaxed.

Despite that, you had still decided to stick to dares for now in order to avoid any potentially awkward questions, so when Changbin picked you to go next, he ended up daring you to sing a part of one of SKZ’s songs. You groaned and smacked your hand against your forehead, knowing full well you were about to embarrass yourself. But then again – these boys embarrassed themselves all the time. And you loved them for it. Time to steer into the chaos, then. You cleared your throat exaggeratedly, then proceeded to rap Felix’s part in “Maze of Memories”, complete with a fake deep voice and terrible Australian accent, dancing around on your armchair with Hyunjin while everyone else cheered and pumped their fists.

Next you dared Jisung to close his eyes and let Seungmin feed him something without knowing what it would be. This earned you a smile from Seungmin that could only be described as pure evil before he went and got a slice of lemon to stick in Jisung’s mouth. The latter’s expression was priceless as he bit into it.

As the game wore on, your cheeks began to almost hurt from laughter. More truths and dares were flung around the group, among them: Chan eating a spoonful of hot sauce, which made him turn as red as a tomato; Felix shamefully revealing his most recent League of Legends stats; Seungmin reading out his most recent Google searches (some of which were very questionable); Jeongin letting Chan do his hair full of sparkly ribbons and little butterfly clips (no one questioning why Felix had all of these just laying around); Changbin recalling an embarrassing story about a time he’d mistakenly thought someone wanted his autograph, but they’d really just needed his signature on a receipt; Jisung revealing the weirdest place he’d ever had sex, and Hyunjin drawing a silly, purposely bad picture of one of the others and letting everyone guess who it was supposed to be. Eventually you were asked again.

You picked dare, and when Hyunjin dared you to kiss somebody on the lips with a smirk on his face, you ooh-ed right along with the rest of the group, in too good of a mood to overthink anything right now. You glanced around the room at all the boys, but you wanted this to be as comfortable as possible, so you were really only considering your two closest friends for it. And since you didn’t feel like getting lipstick on you right now, you quickly got up off of Hyunjin’s lap and crossed the circle to kneel in front of Jisung. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he giggled along with you. You made sure to ask if he was okay with this, and when he nodded you could hear Changbin cackling to one side of you and were well aware of Chan grinning on the other. Then, before you knew it, your lips were on Jisung’s and your hands had found their way into his hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol you’d had – you weren’t really drunk, but definitely tipsy. Or maybe it was a momentary lapse in reason, who knew. But all of a sudden you felt like you were experiencing that cliché shit that’s always described in romance novels or seen in cheesy movies. Like… you genuinely could have sworn that time stopped and the world around you melted away for a second. That was how good it was, and you had not been prepared to feel that way. Jisung’s hair was so fluffy, his lips were so soft, he tasted so sweet, and you wanted to deepen the kiss so badly… but it was over before you knew it, because as soon as his fingers found their way onto the small of your back and you felt his tongue lightly brush your lips, it hit you that you were currently being watched by six other pairs of eyes.

And just like that, the world came back into focus and Changbin’s signature high-pitched giggle penetrated your ears. You pulled away from Jisung and looked at him sheepishly – his mouth was still open, cheeks still flushed. Then you made your way back to the other side of the room. You settled on the floor below the armchair this time, between Hyunjin’s legs, wrapping an arm around one of them as if to ground yourself with it. The rest of the group was laughing and wolf-whistling. You made eye contact with a wide-eyed Han Jisung once more before quickly averting your gaze and clearing your throat when Seungmin reminded you that it was your turn.

“Right,” you laughed, trying desperately to play it cool, and quickly asked Seungmin, who picked dare. You dared him to make what he thought Chan’s orgasm face would look like, earning hysterical laughter and cries of outrage (ahem, Jeongin). Chan himself seemed too stunned to react at all. And just like that your mood began to lighten up once more, though you would have been lying if you’d said you weren’t still thinking about the feel of Jisung’s lips on yours and that little ghost of a touch of his hands on your back. It wasn’t like he’d never touched you before – he did it all the time. But this had been different. Now was not the time though, so you willed yourself to focus on the game. Seungmin had just dared Jeongin to greet Minho like one of his cats once said man arrived. And oh. Right. Minho. There was still Minho to think about. Mysterious, sexy Minho, who you had been unable to keep your mind off of for months. Mysterious, sexy Minho, who you had forgotten about for a moment there. 

And as if he had known, just then the second oldest of the boys walked through the door. Your stomach did that somersault thing it always did when you saw him. He made eye contact with you as he entered the dorm with an extra six-pack of beers in one hand. Your heart leapt into your throat as you gave him a small wave… and then he was looking down in confusion at a red-faced Jeongin with a kiss mark on his cheek as well as ribbons and clips all over his hair. The maknae was rubbing against Minho’s legs on all fours, eventually even meowing once after the rest of the group begged him to do so. Minho’s confused expression turned into an amused smirk and he bent down to pat the youngest on the head gently. Jeongin blushed and quickly made his way back to his spot on the floor, where he buried his head in his knees. Chan reached over to ruffle his hair and the group’s giggles that seemingly hadn’t stopped all night grew even louder, reverberating around the room.

The game naturally ceased as regular conversation returned. The group caught Minho up to speed on some of what he had missed while he cracked open a beer – though for some reason no one brought up your kiss with Jisung. You certainly weren’t going to. Minho explained that he’d been intending to arrive earlier, but had had a few things to deal with that had been stressing him out. He then declared that he just wanted to relax and catch up on the drinking a little bit, and that was when Felix got that little glimmer in his eyes once more that told you he wanted to play another game – and sure enough, he suggested Never Have I Ever next.

“Come on, we haven’t played this one in ages!” he exclaimed excitedly, looking around the room for approval. Seungmin nodded his agreement as he sat back down on the floor cross-legged; he had just returned from the kitchen with a couple of bowls of chips he placed in the middle for everyone. You quickly grabbed one of them for you and Hyunjin to share. A few of the others agreed enthusiastically as well while reaching for the snacks themselves. You noticed Minho hadn’t reacted to Felix’s suggestion and the younger Australian quickly addressed him. “Come on, hyung, this’ll get you in the party mood!”

Minho had settled beside Jisung by now, the two of them sitting close together at the foot of a sofa, their backs leaning against it, their legs touching. Jisung nudged Minho in the ribs and encouraged him with a playful “Come on, baby!”, which Minho responded to with an eyeroll and a “Fine.” But a crooked little smile graced his lips and Felix clapped happily.

This particular game was one you had never played with the boys before. You were sure there weren’t many secrets between them, so to them it was probably more a game of exposing each other and targeting individuals to drink rather than actually finding out juicy secrets, but you were bound to learn quite a bit about them and them about you. And mostly everyone seemed to be in quite a spicy mood. The questions went to all sorts of raunchy places that had Jeongin shaking his head, from things as comparatively harmless as “Never have I ever gone skinny dipping” to topics such as sexual experiences and even kinks. Occasionally, innocent questions were thrown in by somebody just to keep it light (and keep Jeongin from losing his mind entirely).

Throughout the game you found yourself sneaking glances over to Jisung without initially being aware you were doing it a lot of the time. In fact, your eyes were on him almost as often as they were on Minho right now, though every time you noticed yourself looking in their direction, you tried to stop. But you couldn’t help but feel Jisung’s eyes on you too, and eventually Minho started eyeing both of you, seeming to have picked up on something. He looked mildly irritated, as if he couldn’t figure out what exactly was going on. When his eyes met yours, you quickly averted your gaze again and tried your best to focus on the game that was happening.

Which became easy once Jeongin spoke up with the next question. The question itself wasn’t shocking, especially given the direction the game had already gone in. It was the fact that it had come from the youngest, who claimed not to want to indulge everyone else’s dirty minds, that made it so surprising.

“Never have I ever had a sex dream involving someone in this room,” he grinned, eyes scanning the group as he himself raised his beer to his lips. You looked up at Hyunjin who smirked, taking a sip as well. Changbin couldn’t hold himself back from shouting “It was about me, right? You can tell them it was about me, Hyunjin-ah, it’s okay!”, which got everyone giggling again. You drank too, but avoided looking at anybody else as you did so. Actually, it seemed like everybody in the room had taken a sip at that question.

Seungmin decided to take it a step further when it was his turn next. “Never have I ever fooled around with anybody in this room,” he stated with a deadpan expression, and your eyes widened in anticipation as you looked up from your beer, trying not to make it too obvious that you were most curious as to whether or not Jisung and Minho would drink. You saw that Minho had a hand resting on Jisung’s thigh by this point. And then, sure enough, the two of them raised their beers to take a sip at roughly the same time, even exchanging a tiny little blink-and-you’d-miss-it smile as they did. You also noticed Jisung’s cheeks turning a light pink. You suddenly became very aware of your heart pounding heavily in your chest.

You did notice a couple of other beers being raised in your peripheral vision, including Hyunjin’s right next to you – you were back on the armchair at this point. But to be completely honest, you weren’t paying enough attention to really register who else was drinking. You would definitely kick yourself for this later, but right now you were simply focused on the confirmation of Jisung and Minho’s relationship being (or at least at some point having been) more than platonic – and what knowing that was doing to you.

You weren’t sure at all how to feel about it, especially because at this point in the night you were painfully aware of how badly you wanted to kiss (and do more than that with) not just Minho, but also Jisung again – that second part you really hadn’t planned on. And maybe it was just the alcohol clouding your brain, but it didn’t really feel that way, because you still weren’t really drunk. You were only taking small sips of beer and drinking lots of water in between.

It was so hard to make sense of what you were feeling. You weren’t jealous of the two of them being with each other. You wanted them to enjoy themselves and be happy, and were glad if they could give each other that. The thing was just that you wanted – like, wanted – both of them too. Badly. You couldn’t deny that at this point. And you were afraid that wasn’t ever going to be possible, nor did you want to get in the way of whatever they had going on.

But then again… you remembered the way Jisung had been looking at you, both after the kiss and several times since then. And as you were thinking about it, your eyes drifted to him and… he was doing it again. Looking at you like that. Looking at you like that with his damn fluffy hair and his damn flushed cheeks and his damn kissable freaking lips. Your heart skipped a beat and your gaze flickered over to Minho. And he looked at you too. And then at Jisung. His eyes kept jumping between the two of you, but he had an eyebrow furrowed, as if he was still trying to figure out just what was happening here. You wished you knew yourself. You gulped and tried to clear your mind, turning your attention back to the game that was resuming now that everyone had gotten all the cheering and whistling out of their system in response to the previous question.

Felix informed Minho that it was his turn, so the latter cleared his throat with a little shake of his head before glancing around the room with that devilish little glint in his eyes you’d come to love so much.

“Never have I ever pissed in JYP’s front yard.” This caused the entire room to burst out laughing, several of them clapping as they did. You clearly were missing some kind of inside joke, but it was pretty self-explanatory once Changbin whined out an “I hate you, hyung” and reached across Jisung’s lap to playfully punch Minho in the thigh. Minho shot him an overly exaggerated crazy-eyed death glare in return. Changbin raised his beer to his lips sheepishly and you joined Hyunjin in his full-body laughter that was shaking the entire armchair again as you pictured the scene. Minho looked around the room with a furtive little smile on his face, like he was really proud of himself.

The game went on for a while longer, the conversation and laughter flowed and you focused on just enjoying yourself once more. However, you still couldn’t prevent your eyes from drifting over to the two boys across from you every so often – just like you couldn’t prevent the jolt of electricity that went through your body every time you caught one of them looking at you too.

Eventually the group moved on to other games, more laughter and chatter, and finally the night seemed to be drifting towards an end as Chan began to yawn, earning him lots of teasing comments from the others (but mostly Seungmin) about how old he was. But then the others started getting quieter and more sleepy bit by bit as well, Hyunjin yawning and stretching overly dramatically every so often. You had been sort of keeping your distance from the two boys you couldn’t keep your mind off of, but had still been surreptitiously observing them. They were in a good mood, both still at fairly high energy levels – particularly Jisung, who kept suggesting more games and didn’t seem to want the night to end. You didn’t want it to either. But eventually, when even Felix became very sleepy, even briefly dozing off sprawled out on one of the sofas with his head on Changbin’s lap, the rest of you knew it was time to get going.

Felix and Seungmin hugged each of you goodbye one by one as you left their dorm. The two of them had had to stop Chan from cleaning up around the room and usher him out despite how tired he was. Minho was the last one out the door, and he couldn’t resist slapping each of the hosts on the butt as he left, even giving Seungmin a little squeeze. They shook their heads with a smile as they shut the door behind him. You sighed. It was silent out here.

You did not feel like a journey home in the middle of the night right now. But you knew that if you needed a place to stay, somebody would definitely let you crash. Chan had already told Felix he would be happy to let you stay over (or pay for a taxi if you preferred to go home) when the younger Australian had showed concern, not wanting to let you leave until he knew you’d be safe. Hyunjin was currently loitering close by you as well, an arm protectively around your shoulder, and you knew he’d have no problem offering you his bed either. You’d stayed at his and Changbin’s dorm previously when it had gotten late after you were all hanging out. In fact, that was where you were intending to go tonight again, and were just about to start heading in that direction with them when Jisung spoke up.

“Y/N, do you want to come hang out with us a little longer? Me and Minho-hyung aren’t that tired yet. You can stay over, don’t worry.” Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him. Did he seem… nervous? You couldn’t tell. You glanced at Minho next, but he was just looking back at you blankly, blinking a couple of times.

You’d never spent a lot of time at their dorm before, despite being quite close with Jisung, mainly because you worried about bothering Minho. But as nervous as the thought made you right now, especially after the way the night had gone, you absolutely wanted to spend more time with the two of them – even if you weren’t sure it was smart, exactly.

“Yeah, okay,” you replied, trying your best not to seem overly eager. You turned into Hyunjin’s arms to give him a quick hug goodbye, then the others as well. Chan patted you on the shoulder before he turned to walk back to his dorm with Jeongin. Changbin and Hyunjin skipped away in the opposite direction arm in arm. And that left you in the dimly lit hallway with Minho, Jisung and a racing heart.

“Well, let’s go then,” Minho said and again, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. You thought there was the slightest ghost of a smile on his lips, but it was dark and he was Minho, so who knew, really. Either way, you followed him as he turned on his heel and headed down the hallway. It was a short walk across the courtyard to their dorm and as you entered the cold night air, a brief shiver went through your body. Jisung put an arm around you, rubbing your shoulder, and the two of you walked the rest of the way like that. It wasn’t far, but it was so silent the entire way that it somehow felt longer than it should have. But you were smiling nonetheless. And you were suddenly quite aware of how good Jisung smelled.

---

Once inside the boys’ dorm, you were wracking your brain trying to think of something to say to break the silence, but you couldn’t come up with anything and you cursed yourself for it. For once you actually sort of wished you were drunker, so you maybe wouldn’t be worrying so much about embarrassing yourself. Although then again, maybe it was good you weren’t, because who knew what you would say if you weren’t thinking clearly. As it was, you were already pretty sober again and the boys didn’t seem particularly drunk either. Jisung was a lightweight, but he usually sobered up fairly quickly and the night air seemed to have helped him along, while Minho could hold his liquor pretty well and hadn’t ended up drinking that much tonight after all. He got each of you a glass of water, which you gratefully accepted, sitting at their kitchen island and tracing the pattern of the granite with your fingertip.

You looked up and noticed Minho quirking an eyebrow at you. You felt your cheeks get a little hot. You needed someone to speak. Now. This was unbearable. Were they feeling the same way you were? Or were they relaxed? Why weren’t they saying anything? Anything, any topic at all, please. You thought about the evening you’d just had, whether there was something you could use to start a conversation. And then you had it. You took a deep breath and put on a smile.

“So Changbin really pissed in JYP’s yard, huh?” This instantly set Jisung off in a fit of hysterical laughter, doubling over and clutching the kitchen counter for support. You breathed a sigh of relief as you continued. “I need to hear the whole story. Please.” And just like that the tension lifted again as the boys recounted the event, you commenting how badly you wished you’d been there in between giggles.

The conversation naturally moved onto other topics from there and things felt right and normal again between all three of you. These were the boys you’d gotten to know as good friends over the past few months and you even began to wonder what you had been so in your head about all night. The three of you chatted about all sorts of things for a little while and eventually you landed on the topic of movies. When you confessed that you’d never actually seen a Deadpool movie, Jisung was so taken aback he suggested you watch the first one instantly.

And so the three of you ended up on Minho’s bed with the movie playing on his big TV screen. You knew he had one in his bedroom because he loved nothing more than to relax watching an anime when he wanted some alone time. The TV was nicer than the one in the living room and the bed was big enough for the three of you to be comfortable, so here you were. Jisung had instantly sprawled out in the middle, insisting he needed cuddles from two of his most favorite people, and you both gladly indulged him – though you did catch Minho rolling his eyes jokingly as Jisung pulled him down and flung his right arm around his shoulders. You settled against his left side, taking in his scent and giggling at the way his hair tickled your forehead. Then you began to watch the movie.

About twenty minutes into it, you felt your stomach growl a little bit. It was around 2 am; not excessively late yet, since the party had begun fairly early, but you did realize that you hadn’t had a proper meal since this afternoon. You hoped no one had heard you, but either Minho had or he was hungry himself, because not long after, be briefly paused the movie and offered to take a quick walk down the street to the boys’ favorite late-night fast food place to grab something for you all, saying he wanted some fresh air anyway. Jisung quickly nodded eagerly and you confessed you were hungry too. You asked Minho if he wanted any company, feeling bad about sending him out by himself at this time of night, but he said he didn’t mind and told you guys to continue watching; he’d seen the movie enough times anyway. And that was how he ended up leaving you two alone in his bedroom… and all of a sudden your mind was right back in the place you had fought so hard to get it out of earlier.

You tried to concentrate on the movie. You really did. But you weren’t catching a damn thing that was happening on the screen. You were overly aware of every single thing about Jisung – his earthy scent you’d decided you really liked; the way his hair was still brushing against your forehead; the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing; the curve of his collarbone under your head. His heartbeat, which you swore was a little quicker than it should have been. You were also overly aware of your own heartbeat, which was definitely quicker than it should have been and seemed much louder than usual. And suddenly you were terrified that he had noticed it too, that he suddenly knew exactly what was going through your mind. You slowly turned your head, hoping to sneak a glance at his expression and gauge the situation. And he was looking right at you. Your heart stopped momentarily and your belly fluttered in the way that had been reserved for Minho and Minho only up until now. You wanted to look away before it got awkward. You wanted to but you couldn’t, because he was looking at you like that again. Like he had been all night. Like… like he wanted to kiss you again.

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. His eyes flickered to your mouth. Then back up to your eyes. Then back to your mouth. And then he was kissing you. His hands found your waist. One of yours crept up to caress his jaw while the other instantly tangled itself back into the hair you had been dying to touch again all night. You melted into his embrace.

The kiss was sloppy in the most perfect way, your bodies flush against each other. You could feel every part of him, from his hands that were finally resting properly on the small of your back, to his legs that had become entangled with yours, to his tongue – Jisung’s tongue, your friend Jisung’s tongue – to his hipbones, to his crotch, where you felt something twitching and beginning to grow hard. A small moan escaped you. And all of a sudden this was very real. And you remembered that you were in Lee fucking Minho’s bed. You suddenly pulled back a little bit, chest rising and falling rapidly. Jisung’s eyes found yours again, searching.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said breathlessly. For a second you forgot what you were going to say as you looked at him – his messed-up hair, his flushed face, his dilated pupils, his glistening mouth that had tasted so sweet. And oh no, he was biting his lip. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asked, voice full of concern. You had to tell him. You had to be honest before this went any further. It was too weird for you to be doing this. But wow, you did not want to tell him. Especially not when you could be kissing him instead.

“I… I need to be honest with you about something,” you groaned. This was so embarrassing. Was he going to hate you? Tell you it was messed up to have been kissing him when you were harboring feelings for his best friend? Or was it his boyfriend? His sexual partner? Did it matter? Oh god, you didn’t want to ruin it all. But you couldn’t ignore it.

“What is it, baby?” Oh, now why did he have to call you that? Didn’t he realize he was making this even more difficult for you? His eyebrows were furrowed. “Is everything okay?” And it was too late to back out of the truth now, because he was actually worried, and you weren’t going to leave him feeling that way. The mood was probably already ruined regardless. You averted your gaze.

“I… don’t know if we should be doing this. I kind of… um… have a thing for Minho? Oh god.” You could see the corners of his mouth twitch slightly upwards out of the corner of your eye and felt his gaze on your skin like it was burning you. “Don’t look at me. Ugh. I’m so sorry. It was so weird of me to be all over you like this, I don’t know what got into me, I’ve had a crush on Minho for months and I don’t even know what’s going on between you two – not that you need to tell me, I just don’t want to butt in, I promise I didn’t plan for any of this to happen, oh god this is so fucking embarrassing, I can totally understand if you want me to leave, I can call a cab or maybe Hyunjin is still awake and I can go over there instead, just please tell me we can figure out a way to keep being friends, I…” You trailed off. The silence was deafening. Your cheeks were on fire. Why wasn’t he saying anything? You had to look up at him, didn’t you? You did not want to. You swallowed once. And peeked. He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Was he laughing at you? That would be even worse than you’d feared. You were about to turn your eyes away again when he put a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“Jisung.”

“Just… take a breath, okay? Everything’s fine.”

“If everything’s fine, why are you laughing at me? Maybe this is amusing to you, but it’s not to me, this is mortifying, I don’t want to lose my friends, I’m so embarrassed right now, I don’t even know what to-”

And all of a sudden you were cut off by his lips again. You quickly pulled back. He moved with you. His eyes were laser focused on your mouth. He looked like he was getting ready to devour you. You wanted to let him so badly.

“Jisung!”

“Y/N!” He was giving you nothing. You groaned. You kissed him. You couldn’t help yourself. You were melting into the kiss again, into him. His tongue was so soft and felt so good in your mouth. Your arms snaked around his waist. His hand made its way to your ass. Your eyes shot open. You detached your lips from his once more and put a little space between your bodies, placing a hand on his chest to ensure the distance was kept this time. You could still feel the heat radiating off of him. It was intoxicating.

“Jisung, we need to focus! Minho will be back any second, this is weird!” You looked at him, trying to convey how serious you were with your eyes, but it was difficult when you were sure you were in just as flustered and flushed a state as he was – and seeing him like that was making it very hard to concentrate. He sighed, but there was still a little smile on his lips.

“Look, Y/N, I wasn’t necessarily expecting it either, but I don’t know, I think I like you.”

“I mean… you were definitely kissing me like you do.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “You kissed me first!”

“That’s… true. But in my defense, it was only because Hyunjin dared me.”

“To kiss anybody in the room. Not me specifically.”

“I hate you.”

“I wanted it.” He grinned at you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“But… Minho?” You swallowed uneasily.

“What about him?”

“I just told you I like him.”

“I know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he like you?”

“Yeah.” He said it so nonchalantly. It drove you crazy.

“Don’t you think this is way too complicated?”

“I think you’re making it a lot more complicated than it needs to be.” You smacked your own forehead at his words.

“Now what on earth does that mean?”

“Look, Y/N, the way I see it, it’s kinda simple. I like Minho, so I kiss Minho. I like you, so I kiss you.”

“But I like Minho.”

“Do you like me?”

“I think so.”

“Then kiss me.”

“I want to, but – stop!” He was moving closer again. “Doesn’t it bother you that I like Minho?”

“No, why? Minho’s great. And beautiful. I totally get it.”

“Well, you said he likes you. And I don’t want to, like… cause any problems.” Jisung smiled at your concern. You did not want his pity.

“Look. I know Minho can come across as kind of… possessive? But trust me. He will not be bothered by us hooking up. The only thing he might be bothered by is if we didn’t offer to include him.” You swore you forgot how to breathe for a moment when you heard those words. Jisung clearly noticed your reaction, because his smile widened considerably. He was enjoying this, wasn’t he? You couldn’t even tell if he was being serious. What on earth had you gotten yourself into?

“Did I just hear you right, Han Jisung?”

“You did.”

“You’re suggesting we hook up… with Minho.”

“I am.”

“You want us to hook up. With Minho. You. And me. And Minho. Yes?”

“Yup.” He clearly noticed you were not processing this at all, so he continued. “Did you think I was just hoping to get in a secret quickie with you before he came back? You know the restaurant’s not that far away, right? He’s already been gone longer than I thought.”

“Were you guys… planning something? Is he, like… expecting to come back to this?”

“Nope. But sometimes things happen. And so you go with the flow, you know?”

“You didn’t talk to him about wanting to have… a threesome… with me tonight? That’s not why you invited me over?”

“Nope. We just wanted to hang out. But now I want to have a threesome. Do you want to?”

“I mean… yes? But, like. Will Minho even want to?”

“We’ll ask him.” He made it sound so simple.

“Does Minho even like me?” You were terrified of the answer.

“Don’t know. I know he thinks you’re really hot, though.”

“He told you that?”

“Lots of times.” Oh. Well, that was that. Your brain had officially stopped working. How were you supposed to process this information? And it was almost scary, the way Jisung seemed to be reading your mind right now, because the next thing he said was: “I want you to stop thinking so much about it all. You don’t need to figure it out.”

“I… don’t?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good.” His voice had become an almost-whisper as he had inched his way closer to you once more, now taking the hand that had been placed on his chest into his own and intertwining your fingers. You could feel the breath coming from his mouth when he spoke. Something in you wanted to protest more – that part of your brain that was such a seasoned overthinker that it short-circuited whenever something interrupted that process. But Jisung wasn’t going to give you a chance to. And honestly, you were grateful to him for it. And so you gave in to the kiss once more. Fully, this time.

You lost yourself in him, let his hands roam your body, let yours roam his in return, every curve, every bone. You felt his chest contracting against yours with each heavy breath he took. When he detached his mouth from yours you almost whined in protest, until he attached it to your neck instead and you forgot everything, focused only on how good his teeth felt on your sensitive skin, saliva everywhere. Your hands slid under his sweater. His skin was so smooth; you could feel the muscles in his back and stomach tensing as you ran your hands all over them, caressing him, incoherent moans escaping you. He was perfect. And he was so good at this. Why was he so good at this?

“Mmh, Jisung. So… good,” you moaned into his hair and he began sucking on your neck even more aggressively at that. His sweater was slipping off his shoulder and you wanted to get him out of it so badly. Your hands reached for the hem of it, began pulling it up… and just then you heard the sound of a key in the lock. And you froze for a moment. Jisung looked up at you. You made eye contact with him. His eyes were glinting like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was almost sure Minho would be happy to join you. Meanwhile you were terrified once again of Minho coming into his own bedroom, finding you in this state with his Han Jisung, and being absolutely disgusted. But the situation was what it was now. And his steps were coming closer to the bedroom. Your belly did a somersault. And he came through the door.

You had moved away from Jisung a little bit and attempted to smooth your clothes down. Regardless of all that, you knew your neck was a mess, so it was probably pointless to even try to look presentable. But it had been an automatic reaction to try and fix your appearance. Jisung had done no such thing. His hair was all over the place, his sweater was still half off, and there was a very obvious erection straining against his jeans. Not to mention the lust-filled grin that was plastered on his face as he looked at the man that had just come through the doorway.

“Hi, Minho,” he grinned.

“Um, hi guys,” the older of the boys responded and you noticed the corner of his mouth quirk up. You looked away quickly when his gaze met yours, hating the fact that you were so nervous again. “What’s going on here?” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice as he reached for the remote to pause the movie that was still running. Both you and Jisung couldn’t stop yourselves from chuckling as you realized it had been on this whole time.

“We, uh… might have gotten a little distracted,” you said sheepishly after your giggles had subsided.

“I can see that.” Minho smirked as he observed the state the two of you were in. “Well, there’s fried chicken in the kitchen, but I’m sure it can be reheated later.” You couldn’t help but giggle again at that deadpan statement.

“Minho-hyung.”

“Yes, Han?” Your heart was pounding as you looked expectantly at the beautiful man standing in the doorway. The man you’d dreamed about so many times. The man whose bed you were currently in… with somebody else. Was this the moment you were finally going to get your hands on him? Was something way beyond what you’d ever dreamed of about to happen?

“Do you want to… join us?” And yes. Jisung had really just said those words. There was no going back now. You swallowed as you awaited Minho’s response. He didn’t say anything at first. But he made his way towards the bed. It sunk as he crawled onto it and took his place on the other side of Jisung once more. Jisung could barely contain himself; he was biting his lip again and his hand was already reaching for Minho’s hip, attempting to pull him closer. But Minho looked at you again first.

“Y/N, are you comfortable with this?” And you could tell he was holding back from pouncing – on someone, anyone, either of you, both of you –, just waiting to make sure this was something you really wanted. And you loved him for it. But if he couldn’t tell by now how badly you wanted him, what with the way your eyes were dripping with lust and your chest was heaving as you stared at him, then you were better at acting than you’d thought.

“God, just get in here, Minho.”

He did not need to be asked twice. He pounced. His lips were on yours in an instant and it was everything you’d ever imagined it to be. He was rough in all the right ways and he tasted even better than you could have dreamed. As you ground into Jisung’s hip, he hoisted Minho’s thigh over his other side, attaching his lips to the older boy’s neck. Then he quickly began to unbutton Minho’s shirt as the two of you continued to make out messily, pausing in between for air and to finally help Jisung out of his sweater as well. You’d never seen the younger of the two quite this excited before and it did things to you that you had no words to describe.

Both of them were so beautiful. Both of them smelled so good. Their scents were all over the room as sweat was already mingling, and you briefly pulled away to take your own shirt off as well. Both pairs of eyes were on you as you did so, and you returned the gaze, looking at their bodies in awe. Jisung had begun unbuttoning his jeans now and Minho reached a hand down to stop him.

“Let me.” The way he said those words sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly he was pulling you back towards them as well, shoving you down next to Jisung. You began kissing and biting the younger of the two all over his ear, jaw, neck, chest, anywhere you could reach as Minho took his time unbuttoning the man’s jeans and sliding them down his legs excruciatingly slowly, taking his underwear right along with them.

“Don’t be shy now,” Minho said to you as you stopped what you were doing to look at Jisung’s boner that stood against his belly, twitching in arousal, all but begging to be touched. “I’ve had my fun with it plenty of times. You can get us started.” And so you did. You trailed your hand down towards Jisung’s crotch and around the general area first; his lower body bucked upwards when your fingers brushed the inside of his thigh. He let out a small whine, already breathing heavily, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted. And then you were wrapping a hand around his length, giving it a couple of slow pumps, loving the way it felt pulsing under your palm. Jisung groaned, his eyes fluttering back in his head. You caught Minho watching him in awe and thought you might just about die.

You were very aware of your own wetness pooling in your underwear and your pussy twitching, heat coiling in your lower belly. You leant down to place a few excruciatingly soft kisses around Jisung’s crotch and finally on the tip of his cock, before pulling away to start removing your own pants. Minho took the opportunity to attach his mouth to Jisung’s cock and when you heard the moans coming from the younger man, you felt like you couldn’t get your clothes off fast enough. Minho was straddling Jisung’s legs by now and Jisung’s hands were grasping for the other man’s crotch too, attempting to rub him through his pants before awkwardly stretching his body to reach for the buttons and fumbling with them desperately. Minho stopped him, pulling his mouth off of his penis with a pop, then sat up straight and smiled. He kept doing that – smiling like that – and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him when he did. But Jisung’s whine at the loss of contact pulled your attention back to him for a moment.

“Y/N, take over,” Minho ordered, and you took his place eagerly. As you positioned yourself between Jisung’s legs and bent down to take him into your mouth, you felt the bed shift as Minho presumably got undressed… and then you felt his hands begin to roam you from behind. They went all over your body, helping you out of your bra before sliding your underwear off and tossing it to the side. There was so much going on that you luckily only had a brief moment to feel self-conscious as you knew Minho was inspecting your ass and pussy from the back. His hands were kneading your ass cheeks while Jisung was grabbing at your breasts desperately. At the same time you could feel him thrusting up into your mouth and heard his moans quickening… at which point Minho pulled you off of him and flush against his own naked body instead. You gasped at the feel of his erection against your ass and his hands all over your breasts, kneading, pinching. You turned your head slightly to look at his face, panting. He was smiling at Jisung.

“Not yet, baby,” he told him, before pressing several kisses against your shoulder and the crook of your neck that were so soft you almost burst right then and there, your entire body tingling. You arched your back against him, grinding back against his crotch. His chest was slick with sweat against your back. When he looked up from your shoulder, you tried to catch his lips with yours, but he just teased you with an evil grin before flipping you onto your back next to Jisung once more. You turned your head towards Jisung and the two of you looked at each other, completely breathless. A small giggle escaped you which Jisung quickly reciprocated before pressing another sloppy kiss to your lips. You bit and sucked on his bottom lip for a few moments, then turned your head to look up at Minho as Jisung kept kissing and nibbling along your cheek, your neck, your ear. Your eyes trailed up and down the body of the man you’d been lusting over for months. He looked unbelievable, kneeling over you like that. When your eyes met you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning.

You grasped one of his hands, brought his index finger to your mouth and ran your tongue along it before beginning to suck on it, never breaking eye contact with him as you did so. He was watching you intently. You were aching to be touched. He began to lean down, bringing his face impossibly close to yours. You reached for the back of his neck, ready to pull him into a kiss, already feeling his breath on your lips, so eager to taste his mouth once more… but he stopped just short of it again, smirked at you once, then turned his attention to Jisung.

He pulled Jisung’s face off of you before kissing him passionately, deeply, as you could only watch in awe. It was too much.

Your hand found its way to your pussy and you began rubbing your clit while simultaneously spreading your wetness around your folds. You whimpered at the sight of the two of them messily making out, tongues battling as their naked bodies ground against each other. You squeezed your legs together tightly once before pressing a first cautious finger into your pussy, then a second. Your other hand had made its way to your own mouth and you moaned into your palm softly, holding back a little bit. Still, the boys broke their kiss to look at you. It took everything in you not to look away – you were so overwhelmed, so turned on you thought you might burst, so self-conscious but still unable to stop touching yourself at the sight of them.

“I think Y/N needs some attention, hm?” Minho purred at Jisung. “What do you think? Want to put that tongue of yours to good use?” Jisung began grinning again before sliding his body down the bed a little bit, motioning for you to position yourself on top of his face.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, but he was nodding eagerly before you had even finished your question. Minho took you by the wrist, practically forcing you to stop fingering yourself, and helped you position your body above Jisung’s face, slowly lowering you down until your pussy made contact with the younger’s mouth. You moaned loudly as soon as it did, grabbing onto the bed’s headboard to steady yourself as your body arched in response. Jisung put a hand on each hip to steady you, and as he ate you out, Minho began to give the rest of your body attention again. His hands and lips were all over you, squeezing your nipples, kissing you behind your ear and all down your back, making you shiver all over. He lightly slapped your ass cheeks and came back up right next to your ear to ask you in an excruciatingly seductive tone if that was okay for you. You nodded quickly.

“Yeah?” he asked. “That feel good?”

“Mhmmmm,” you moaned back as he slapped you a couple more times.

“What about Jisung? Is he making you feel good?” You could only respond with unintelligible noises as the younger’s tongue penetrated you deeper at the sound of his name.

“M-Minho,” you brought out breathlessly. You were a bit nervous to ask him for anything, but your arousal overrode your embarrassment. “C-can you scratch me?” You panted. “Please?” You swore you could hear the smirk in his voice when he answered.

“You want me to scratch you, kitten?” You nodded, still moaning and holding onto the headboard for dear life, the muscles in your arms flexing. “As you wish, beautiful.” You barely had time to process the fact that he had just called youbeautiful before his nails were on you. All down your back, along your thighs, your hipbones, everywhere. You moaned even louder. Your body was reacting beyond your control, you could feel the tightening sensation in your lower belly growing exponentially and your legs began to shake so that you wondered if you would even be able to remain upright long enough to orgasm.

“You like that, huh?” Minho spoke, and you nodded wildly, still desperately trying to keep your body stable. He kept going, grinding against your ass, scratching you and peppering you with kisses all over your neck and back while Jisung held you steady with a firm grip on your hips. Your thighs were quivering at this point and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Jisung pulled away for an excruciating moment, placed unbelievably soft kisses on the inside of your thigh, and when his lips and tongue reattached to your pussy once more, it didn’t take long before you went over the edge. Minho had added one of his fingers into the mix, steadily circling your clit with it as Jisung kept eating you out. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as your orgasm washed over you and you let the two of them hold you up as you rode it out, eyes closed in pure bliss until the last of the waves of pleasure had rocked through your body.

Then you slowly lifted yourself off of Jisung with Minho’s help, slumping with your back against the headboard, and looked at the two of them sheepishly. You were well aware your mouth was still open but you were incapable of closing it fully at this point in time. You looked at Minho; he was still wearing that mischievous expression. You looked down at Jisung, who was wiping your juices off of his lips, sucking them off his own fingertips as he made eye contact with you. Then you broke into a smile.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed. The boys laughed. It was silent for a couple of seconds save for the sounds of all your heavy breathing.

“Are you done, baby?” Minho asked from where he knelt in front of you.

“God no,” you responded, earning more chuckles from the two of them. “Just give me a moment.” Your chest was still falling and rising rapidly while your body felt so heavy and sensitive that you didn’t think you could move just yet. “Can you keep yourselves busy for a few minutes?” They both looked at you as if that was a stupid question and instantly were all over each other once more. Jisung grabbed Minho by the hips and pulled him down until he was straddling him. They began to make out desperately, hips grinding against each other, pornographic sounds coming from both of their mouths.

Jisung’s hand found its way between Minho’s legs and when the older of the two broke the kiss briefly to throw his head back, squeeze his eyes tightly shut and let out a strangled moan, you nearly lost it. The veins in his neck were very visible and he had never looked better. No. You most definitely were not done with them yet.

You watched them for a few minutes more, taking in every detail. Jisung’s smooth body, the muscles in his arms tensing up as he had one hand buried in Minho’s crotch, the other wrapped around his ass to hold him down against him. Minho’s thighs on either side of him. God, those thighs. You were feeling your own arousal begin to build quickly again and cautiously reached down to touch yourself once more, slowly letting yourself get accustomed to the sensation again without overwhelming your still very sensitive body.

You ached to taste Minho again, to shove your tongue in his mouth, to get your hands on him, on his dick which you had yet to have your fun with. You began crawling towards him, reached a hand into his hair, gently turned his head in your direction. His half-lidded eyes met yours and there was that smile again. You tried to pull his face towards you, but just before his lips met yours, he moved them to your neck instead. You groaned.

“What’s- ah! What’s wrong, kitten?” he brought out breathlessly in between moans as Jisung kept pumping his hand up and down his cock. You looked down at it until Minho used his spare hand that wasn’t currently clutching onto Jisung’s shoulder to pull your face back up by your chin and force you to look into his eyes. “What do you need?” As he said that, he trailed his hand down your front until he reached your pussy, where he began slowly circling your clit once more with two of his fingers.

“Mmh- Minho, oh god.” A shiver went through you and you closed your eyes to let the sensation fully wash over you. He was using just the right amount of pressure as he rubbed excruciatingly slow circles over your clit and you forgot everything else for a moment.

“Tell me, kitten,” he huffed out.

“M-Minho… need… you,” you panted. Your hips were bucking in his direction every time he completed a circle and you wanted to feel him inside of you immediately. “P-please. Just fuck me.” You opened your eyes to look at him again. He had reached his other hand down to stop Jisung jerking him off and caressed the younger man’s hand gently before reaching past him to the bedside table, where he retrieved a condom from the top drawer. He looked down at his roommate lovingly, then back up at you.

“Jisung’s been waiting a little longer than me. Don’t you think we should let him go first?” You looked at Jisung and his eyes were so wide, so full of desire. Minho didn’t even wait for your response before he unwrapped the condom and began to slowly pull it down over Jisung’s cock, which you noticed was twitching and already dripping precum. You felt your mouth begin to water, despite the devastating loss of Minho’s fingers on your clit. When he had finished putting the condom on the younger man, he moved to lay down next to him again. “What do you think, Jisungie?” Minho asked him, running a finger down his stomach, trailing it between his legs, grazing his cock, causing Jisung’s hips to jerk upwards.

“Mmh… Y/N. Can I? Can I f-fuck you?” He was panting. He looked incredible. You nodded and moved to straddle him. Who were you to turn him down?

“God, please,” you breathed out, but just before you could settle on top of him, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over so you were on your back beneath him instead. Your head hit the pillow and you glanced to the side to make eye contact with Minho for a moment. He was licking his lips and moved to stroke your cheek with his hand. You leaned in towards him, but he gently pushed your face back to look at Jisung instead. You complied, your initial frustration forgotten quickly as your eyes settled on the younger of the two who was now towering over you. He had reached up to push a hand through his hair and the muscles in his arm flexed tantalizingly as he did so.

You reached your hands up to run them over his chest and stomach, feeling every breath that he took. His skin was hot and slick with sweat and you reached up to his neck to pull his face down to meet you. His mouth was on yours in an instant, his tongue pushing into your mouth eagerly. Your breath was already quickening from the exhilaration of the kiss alone. When you felt his hand reach down to grasp himself and slowly begin to position his cock at your entrance, it sped up even more in anticipation. You reached your own hand down to spread yourself for him.

He slowly pushed into you and each little bit further he went sent new waves of pleasure radiating out from your stomach through your entire body. He already felt so good and he had barely even begun.

“Mmh… feel so good, baby…” he groaned as if he was reading your mind again, eyes closed, mouth open as he continued pushing into you until he bottomed out. Then, slowly at first, he began to thrust.

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t contain your moans. “Jisung!” His hands were on either side of your head now, grasping the pillow for support. Yours were on his ass, pulling him closer, pushing him deeper into you as you slid your hips up and wrapped your legs around his back to find just the right angle. You closed your eyes for a moment, just feeling him, the indescribable sensations going through your body. Both your voices filled the room in time with his thrusts as he settled into a rhythm.

You heard Minho groaning next to you too and when you turned your head to look at him once more, you saw he was slowly stroking his own cock while looking at the two of you. Knowing he was getting off on watching you both amplified your pleasure tenfold and you didn’t even know where to look at this point. You wanted to see both of them. But Jisung enclosed your mouth in yet another desperate kiss, taking the decision off your hands as he continued to thrust into you, though you could already feel his movements speeding up and becoming slightly more erratic as he whined into your mouth in pleasure.

You bucked your hips up to meet his movements and help him keep the pace. He pressed his forehead against yours as he moaned your name against your mouth. You reached one of your hands up to push his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He grabbed your hand with his own and intertwined your fingers against the pillow next to your head. You felt Minho begin to place soft kisses all over both of your hands as he continued to writhe against the sheets next to you, still stroking himself agonizingly slowly. You could see his chest rise and fall out of the corner of your eye.

Meanwhile Jisung’s movements were becoming even more frantic. His hand was still on yours, squeezing tight, but he buried his face in your neck again, allowing your skin to swallow up the sounds still coming from his mouth.

“Mm- so close, baby,” you felt him groan out, the vibrations from his lips shooting through your entire body. “So… close…” He turned his head to meet Minho’s face in a hungry kiss, then looked back at you, the veins in his neck popping out, jaw clenched from how hard he was trying not to cum right now. Yet he didn’t slow his movements down.

“Let go, baby,” you whispered, squeezing his ass hard with the hand that was still resting there. And that was all it took. With a few final big thrusts, you felt his cock pulse inside you as he hit his climax, until his movements gradually slowed down. He was panting against your neck again, still holding onto your hand for the final few sporadic, lazy thrusts before he pressed one more kiss to your neck, then came back up to your face to attach his lips to yours again for a moment. Finally he pulled himself out of you, collapsing next to you and trying to catch his breath. You grinned at him and stroked his cheek affectionately. He laid there with his eyes closed for a few moments more before blinking them open and looking at you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen so fast!”

“It’s- oh! It’s o-kay… mmh…” Minho’s hand had latched onto your pussy so fast you barely had time to register it as the sensation overwhelmed your body. You reached down to stop its movements before you completely lost your mind again. “I still have this one to get through, after all.” You cocked your head in Minho’s direction and grinned at Jisung, who was wiping sweat off his forehead, where his hair had started to curl slightly. Minho had moved his attention to your breasts, kissing them, then between them, then your belly, then your hipbones.

“Still sorry,” Jisung panted. “I wanted to make you cum.” He pouted a little bit.

“You already did, remember?” He smiled at that.

“Don’t worry, Jisungie, you can still help,” Minho purred, looking up at him. “Do you need more of a break?” he asked you, and when you instantly shook your head he chuckled a little bit before retrieving another condom from the bedside table, sitting up to slide it over his own dick this time. You watched, entranced, until he lifted your face up by the chin with a finger and smirked at you in that way he always did again. You swore you could have cum just from that. He reached down between your legs once more and you could feel yourself trying to squeeze your thighs shut against your control as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you.

“Minho,” you warned him, breathing heavily. “Not like this. Need you inside me.” He complied, removing his hand from your pussy and rubbing it over your thigh once instead before leaning down to press a kiss to your hipbone again and nip at it a couple of times.

“Where do you want me, baby?” he asked as a shiver went through your body. You took a moment to ponder.

“Lay down,” you decided. “Want to ride you.” He complied.

As his head hit the pillow, Jisung began to kiss and nip at his upper body while you positioned yourself on top of him. His hands quickly gripped your thighs tightly, nails digging into them as you took his cock into your hand, loving the way it felt, and gave it a couple of strokes, which it responded to as if it had a mind of its own. Your other hand reached for your pussy to spread it again and rub your wetness around a little more before positioning Minho’s cock at your entrance.

Then, ever so slowly, you began to lower yourself onto it. A guttural moan came from deep inside Minho’s chest as he shut his eyes for a moment. Now it was your turn to smirk as you slowly took him all the way inside of you before beginning to slide up and down on his cock. He looked even hotter beneath you than you’d ever imagined, than you’d ever thought possible. When he opened his eyes again and looked at you, the eye contact while feeling him inside of you nearly drove you insane.

Jisung was currently squeezing Minho’s bicep while sucking on his neck. You leant down, hoping to kiss Minho while still keeping your hips moving up and down steadily. Just before your mouths connected, he placed his hand at your lips and shoved his finger back in your mouth instead. You were going to go crazy if he didn’t kiss you soon. You hated it. You loved it. It only made you hungrier for him. You sucked and bit at his finger eagerly, relished in his grunts, then sat back up straighter, throwing your head back.

You were starting to get tired but you could not stop going, feeling your pleasure building and building, even more so when Minho began scratching you again, on your back, your thighs, your hips. You arched your back, shut your eyes, moaned his name. He kept his hands on your hips now and slowly his grip began to tighten, holding you down until you couldn’t move anymore. Then he pulled himself up until he had his arms around you tightly and his face at your breasts, kissing them, sucking on your nipples one after the other, licking a stripe up your neck. Then he was lifting you off of him.

“Turn around,” he instructed. “On your knees. Jisungie, you want to help?” The younger nodded excitedly. “Good. Get below them. You can help keep them steady.” Jisung complied. You were straddling his thighs again as Minho gently pushed you down so you were on all fours, hands on either side of Jisung’s head, faces dangerously close together. Then Minho positioned himself behind you again, this time lining himself up with your entrance, asking if you were ready and slowly pushing his cock inside of you once more when you told him you were.

The moan that left your body was the loudest one yet as he bottomed out inside of you, instantly hitting a very deep angle. Jisung swallowed your sounds up hungrily, mouth all over yours. Then Minho grabbed both of your wrists and held them behind your back. Your upper body slid down a little until your face was on Jisung’s chest and all three of you rocked along with the entire bed as Minho thrust into you steadily. Jisung’s hands moved from your hips, where he had been holding you in place, to your breasts and began to play with them while you moaned into his burning skin. You were sure the two men were looking at each other over your head and just the thought of that turned you on even further, if that was possible.

Minho held your wrists in place with only one hand as the other scratched down your back slowly once, causing a shiver and eliciting more moans, before he used it to repeatedly slap and knead your ass in time with his thrusts. One of Jisung’s hands reached down to your clit and you knew you were going to be done for very soon.

You were trying to moan out names – either of theirs, both of theirs. You were trying to say “theretherethere ohgod right there”, you were trying to say “fasterharderpleaseohfuck” – but what came out of your mouth was fully incoherent at this point. It didn’t seem to matter, because Minho was clearly on the same wavelength as you. You were aware of his grunts and groans growing more frequent, you were aware of his hips smacking against your ass faster and faster as he fucked you harder, deeper, hitting just the right spot over and over, and you were aware of your pleasure building and building until it felt almost impossible to bear.

“Gonna… cum…” you managed to groan out against Jisung’s sweaty skin, and just before you did, Minho pulled your body back up against his. His movements slowed again for a brief moment, and then he was turning your face towards his and before you could process what was happening, his lips finally consumed yours – deeply, intimately, passionately. When his thrusts sped up again your climax hit you so fast and hard you almost bit down on his tongue, nearly screaming into his mouth as your pussy clenched around him, wave after wave of pleasure tumbling through your trembling body. When it finally started to slow down and your soul reentered your body, you were so grateful for Jisung holding onto your thighs below you, because you might have fallen over otherwise.

“Almost… there…” Minho groaned against your mouth. “Hold… on… baby.” Your hands curled into fists as you steadied yourself against Jisung’s chest, focusing on how hot Minho sounded when he was desperate like this, knowing you would let him fuck you for as long as he needed no matter how much it took out of you. But he came not long after with a shaky moan, hands holding your hips in place as he rutted into you frantically, then slower, slower, until he stopped. His forehead rested against yours. You both stayed like that for a moment, eyes closed. Then he kissed you once more, so softly this time, before pulling out of you, smoothing your hair down gently with one hand.

You collapsed half-on top of Jisung and he chuckled into your hair, pressing soft kisses to your temples and the top of your head. You felt Minho’s lips ghost against the scratches on your back once, twice, three times before he collapsed next to the two of you as well, resting his head against Jisung’s shoulder.

There was silence for a little bit. You felt so heavy, in the best way. The world around you seemed muted, like everything had been dipped into candlelight – not just your vision but your hearing as well, the sounds of the boys’ breathing muffled as the blood rushing through your head finally started to slow down.

Jisung rested a hand on your back and you were so sensitive to the touch you almost jerked away from it, but once you got used to it, it felt so good, grounding you. His naked body beneath yours was warm and comfortable. You slowly fluttered your eyes open again and looked at Minho across from you. You reached out to touch his face, caress his cheek gently, then turned your face down to Jisung’s chest to press a kiss to it. Then you rolled onto your back, legs still intertwined with Jisung’s, and looked up at the ceiling. Just like before when you guys had first entered the dorm, you were the one to break the silence, but this time it wasn’t awkward.

“Wow.” A single word. And all three of you huffed out little laughs, looked at each other – and you had never been happier, never felt more blissful, more relaxed, more at home. You couldn’t have wiped the smile off your face even if you’d wanted to. After another moment you spoke again. “Um, we might need to try watching that movie again another time.” The sound of the boys’ soft laughter filled your heart with joy and your stomach fluttered again. You loved the way it felt this time.

“You’re both so fucking hot,” Jisung said out of the blue and you and Minho both grinned.

“You’re fucking hot, baby,” Minho told him in return and you could only nod your enthusiastic agreement.

After a little more comfortable silence, Jisung slowly began to shift you both off of him, announcing he wanted to take a quick shower. He asked if anyone else wanted to but you informed him you couldn’t stand just yet and Minho agreed with you, so once Jisung had left, he pulled you into his arms instead. His skin felt so good against yours, so comforting. He played with your hair as you listened to the sounds of the water hitting the tiles in the shower and after a while Minho mumbled “You really are beautiful” against the skin of your temple. You turned your head up to kiss him and he reciprocated with no hesitation. There was none of the urgency from before and it was incredible in its own way, soft and sweet and perfect.

After another little while you became vaguely aware of the sound of a hairdryer at the edges of your drifting consciousness, and by the time Jisung returned you both were half asleep already, Minho’s arms tight around your middle as he spooned you from behind. You were aware of Jisung turning the TV off before he crept into the bed beside you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered open once, met his and you both smiled before he reached over to the nightstand to turn out the light and settle down on his back. You laid your head against his chest, inhaled him deeply, draped an arm across his stomach and let his heartbeat lull you to sleep. It didn’t take long.

---

When you woke up the next day to daylight cautiously peeking in through a gap in the curtain, still very much tangled up in both Minho and Jisung’s bodies, you panicked for a second. But laying here with them was so soothing that you didn’t let yourself think about your worries for long, instead listening to their deep, steady breathing and letting their scents envelop you.

It wasn’t too long until they began to stir as well, blinking their eyes open not long after each other. And the way they both smiled when they took in where they were and who they were with told you everything you needed to know: this had not been a mistake. And it also would not be the end of it. If their gentle, content expressions hadn’t been enough to convince you of that, the way they softly greeted you and each other and the lazy kisses and cuddles that ensued certainly were, as well as the rest of the slow morning (or, well, afternoon) you spent together. You took your time cuddling, chatting, getting ready, eating some breakfast that Minho prepared for you all.

You didn’t talk about the situation in depth yet, but you felt no rush to. In fact, for once in your life, you didn’t want to try and rationalize or understand everything. The only thing you all did confirm was that you had enjoyed yourselves immensely and wanted to spend a lot more time together – and that was enough for now.

When you ran into Felix on your way home that afternoon, you still hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off your face that you’d been wearing all day. You stopped to chat for a few moments and you could tell he wanted to ask, but you also figured from the way his eyes were twinkling that he maybe already had an idea. Either way, you told him you’d catch up with him and the others again later – that you wanted to go home and freshen up and take a little time to yourself for now. But just before you left, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and grinned at him.

“Great party, Lix.”

[rezitio]

⊹ | 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 ₙₛʄʷ

ft. Ohma Tokita, Raian Kure, Rama XIII, Kanoh Agito, Niko Tokita, Hatsumi Sen, Wakatsuki Takeshi, Muteba Gizenga

warnings: There's over 40+ links here they each have a description find your own warnings man 😔 they need login of an 18+ acc

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⊹ | Ohma Tokita

01. Sometimes strong men like him need their ego checked but a petite little minx two times smaller than them.

02. At times ohma just wants to feel you on his cock. Especially after a long day of fighting his thoughts, himself and Niko. You were his only light in the inside.

03. It can get real messy with Ohma, I mean really messy.

04. He'll hold you like this when it's all over. When he's done re-arranging your guts after hate-sex. No he doesn't hate you- he hates himself and you happened to be the nearest stress relief

05. Ohma never sleeps (at the right time), so he feels up your body while you have your wet sweet dreams

06. He doesn't want you to think of him like that. He knows what you go through, selling your body in the inside can't be easy. He knows you hate it, but when you offered, for free, God now he knows why people pay so much.

⊹ | Raian Kure

01. Raian making sure both your holes are filled

02. The whole clan knows Raian. The cousin your mother always compares your siblings with and the whole clan knows you. The girl who did not inherit one gene of kure family blood.

03. Raian was never taught how to say I love you or how what love was. He was taught give them no other choice, so he knocked you up knowing damn well he wasn't supposed to come inside.

04. Raian loves them virgins. How eager they are for dick

05. How hard he fucks after convincing you to slip off the condom.

06. Raian can be petty sometimes, leading you to an orgasm like this only to stop and bring up a passing comment

⊹ | Rama XIII

01. "Come on, close so soon? Keep going... please your king"

02. You know he has lots of women lined up for him but maybe,maybe tonight you can finally prove him you're worthy.

Maybe try again next time...

03. Rama absolutely adores his little maid.

⊹ | Gaolang Wongsawat

01. First time with Gaolang was supposed to be cute and pretty, but even a man like him can't think sweetly with a cunt as tight as yours

02. He knows its wrong. Fucking the princess? Your brother will kill him, but even the strongest soldiers fail with temptation

03. With him, sex isn't about orgasm it's about pleasure, the Intimacy

04. Koalang treating his princess well.

05. You don't know how you convinced him to give you a massage but God, did you have to have a fucking perfect body?

06. They call him the fastest boxer, because of how fast he is with his hands.

⊹ | Niko Tokita

01. This is Niko's way of warning you body to take his girth

02. Niko can't remembering the last time he's had pussy, but it seems like wver other day now, he's more than six inches dep in you.

03. Your dad's bestfriend visited while he was gone but not for him. (PLS I CAN IMAGINE HIM SAYING THE SAME EXACT WORDS.)

04. Doing shit like this will get you in trouble just like that.

⊹ | Kanoh Agito

01. He always gives you the opportunity to do whatever you want with him, these are his favs. one.

02. It's either your fucking Kanoh agito, or Fang of Mesturo

03. When ever he's fucking you, his tongue becomes his a weapon used to conquer that pussy.

04. ...

⊹ | Hatsumi Sen

01. I can imagine him fucking the Nogi group's secetary under her desk, and telling anyone passing by you left work early.

02. Seeing your ex again at your engagement party. You told him you hated him, how he made you feel, how you missed his touch and ran to the bathroom. That's where you two are now!

03. He's gotten in trouble with Nogi more times than he can remember, skipping fights and being inappropriate. He can't just resist his boss's cute 'innocent' daughter while she practically begging for his cock.

04. Bumping into your ex and having sex hasn't on your bingo card for the day.

05. He's fucking in love with eating your pussy.

06. Your dad's going to kill you if he find out, but he did tell you to keep him company while he takes this call so...

⊹ | Wakatsuki Takeshi

01. This is how Wakatsuki Takeshi, fucks.

02. You haven't seen each other in such a long time, first thing he made sure to do was rearrange your guts

03. Sometimes he would be hesitant, making you be on top and letting tou ride him. Just so he doesn't accidentally crush you with his weight or split you into half, but he always gets too... impatient

04. At times Takeshi rarely does anything, but the thickness and the heaviness of his dick never fails to make you cry out.

05. Lovely picnic on the grass turns into a fuck sesh mid argument

⊹ | Muteba Gizenga

01. What would you honestly do in that situation? A big tall man tells you to get on your knees for him after murdering your abusive boyfriend, he says he's been watching you, and he just beat you to it.

02. I know it in my heart when a nigga has a big dick. I'm never wrong.

03. I don't know this is just a very muteba position

Oh God.

[backinmypjs]

Behaving With Emotional Maturity

A checklist from the same book on developing emotionally mature interactions and behaviors.

Being Willing to Ask for Help

• I’ll ask for help whenever I need to.

• I’ll remind myself that if I need something, most people will be glad to help if they can.

• I’ll use clear, intimate communication to ask for what I want, explaining my feelings and the reasons for my request.

• I’ll trust that most people will listen if I ask them to.

Being Myself, Whether People Accept Me or Not

• When I state my thoughts clearly and politely, without malice, I won’t try to control how people take it.

• I won’t give more energy than I really have.

• Instead of trying to please, I’ll give other people a true indication of how I feel.

• I won’t volunteer for something if I think I’ll resent it later.

• If someone says something I find offensive, I’ll offer an alternative viewpoint. I won’t try to change the other person’s mind; I just won’t let the statement go unremarked.

Sustaining and Appreciating Emotional Connections

• I’ll make a point of keeping in touch with special people I care about and returning their calls or electronic messages.

• I’ll think of myself as a strong person who deserves to give and receive help from my community of friends.

• Even when people aren’t saying the “right” thing, I’ll tune in to whether they’re trying to help me. If their effort makes me feel emotionally nurtured, I’ll express my gratitude.

• When I’m irritated with someone, I’ll think about what I want to say that could improve our relationship. I’ll wait until I cool off and then ask if the other person is willing to listen to my feelings.

Having Reasonable Expectations for Myself

• I’ll keep in mind that being perfect isn’t always necessary. I’ll get stuff done rather than obsess over getting things done perfectly.

• When I get tired, I’ll rest or do something different. My level of physical energy will tell me when I’ve been doing too much. I won’t wait for an accident or illness to make me stop.

• When I make a mistake, I’ll chalk it up to being human. Even if I think I’ve anticipated everything, there will be outcomes I don’t expect.

• I’ll remember that everyone is responsible for their own feelings and for expressing their needs clearly. Beyond common courtesy, it isn’t up to me to guess what others want.

Communicating Clearly and Actively Seeking the Outcomes I Want

• I won’t expect people to know what I need unless I tell them. Caring about me doesn’t mean they automatically know what I’m feeling.

• If people close to me upset me, I’ll use my pain to identify my underlying need. Then I’ll use clear, intimate communication to provide guidance on how they could give it to me.

• When my feelings are hurt, I’ll try to understand my reaction first. Did something trigger feelings from my past, or did the person really treat me insensitively? If someone was insensitive, I’ll ask him or her to hear me out.

• I’ll be thoughtful to other people, and if they aren’t thoughtful in return, I’ll ask them to be more considerate and then let it go.

• I’ll ask for something as many times as it takes to get a clear answer.

• When I get tired of interacting, I’ll politely speak up, asking if we can continue our contact at another time. I’ll explain kindly that I’m just out of gas at the moment.

Recognizing emotionally mature people

Taken from Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D. A summary of the tips the book hands you on how to recognize emotionally healthy people.

They’re realistic and reliable

They work with reality rather than fighting it. They see problems and try to fix them, instead of overreacting with a fixation on how things should be.

They can feel and think at the same time. The ability to think even when upset makes an emotionally mature person someone you can reason with. They don’t lose their ability to see another perspective just because they aren’t getting what they want.

Their consistency makes them reliable. Because they have an integrated sense of self, they usually won’t surprise you with unexpected inconsistencies.

They don’t take everything personally. They can laugh at themselves and their foibles. They’re realistic enough to not feel unloved just because you made a mistake.

They’re respectful and reciprocal

They respect your boundaries. They’re looking for connection and closeness, not intrusion, control or enmeshment. They respect your individuality and that others have the final say on what their motivations are. They may tell you how they feel about what you did, but they don’t pretend to know you better than you know yourself.

They give back. They don’t like taking advantage of people, nor do they like the feeling of being used.

They are flexible and compromise well. Because collaborative, mature people don’t have an agenda to win at all costs, you won’t feel like you’re being taken advantage of. Compromise doesn’t mean mutual sacrifice; it means a mutual balancing of desires. They care about how you feel and don’t want to leave you feeling unsatisfied.

They’re even-tempered. They don’t sulk or pout for long periods of time or make you walk on eggshells. When angered, they will usually tell you what’s wrong and ask you to do things differently. They’re willing to take the initiative to bring conflict to a close.

They are willing to be influenced. They don’t feel threatened when other people see things differently, nor are they afraid of seeming weak if they don’t know something. They may not agree, but they’ll try to understand your point of view.

They’re truthful. They understand why you’re upset if they lie or give you a false impression.

They apologize and make amends. They want to be responsible for their own behavior and are willing to apologize when needed.

They’re responsive

Their empathy makes you feel safe. Along with self-awareness, empathy is the soul of emotional intelligence.

They make you feel seen and understood. Their behavior reflects their desire to really get to know you, rather than looking for you to mirror them. They aren’t afraid of your emotions and don’t tell you that you should be feeling some other way.

They like to comfort and be comforted. They are sympathetic and know how crucial friendly support can be.

They reflect on their actions and try to change. They clearly understand how people affect each other emotionally. They take you seriously if you tell them about a behavior of theirs that makes you uncomfortable. They’ll remain aware of the issue and demonstrate follow-through in their attempts to change.

They can laugh and be playful. Laughter is a form of egalitarian play between people and reflects an ability to relinquish control and follow someone else’s lead.

They’re enjoyable to be around. They aren’t always happy, but for the most part they seem able to generate their own good feelings and enjoy life.

–  © Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D.

[katsu28]

oooh kait i love the list!!

what about lando + 50. putting a hand over the other's mouth where lando is yapping abt smth?

got a little carried away with this but fuck it we ball

lando norris x sainz!reader, 1.7k. request something from here :)

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

You glance up from your phone to see a grinning Lando leaned up against the wall next to you, and you raise an amused brow. “It’s my brother’s wedding.” 

“Yeah, I know, I was just—” 

“Why would I not be here?” 

“Jesus, I was just trying to be funny, you don't have to be mean about it,” He huffs, bumping his shoulder against yours with a roll of his eyes. 

“Sorry, Lan. You’re just too fun to mess with.” You tease, reaching out to pinch Lando’s cheek. 

He scowls, batting your hand away haphazardly. “Carlos said you were gonna be here early to help get everything settled.” 

“Aw, were you waiting for me?” 

“No, I wasn't.” You shoot him a disbelieving look. “Okay, maybe I was. I had to work with your great aunt, and lemme tell you, that woman is handsy.” 

“Oh, you poor thing.” 

“I know. All because you abandoned me.” 

“I had to help Rebecca with some last minute adjustments. And besides, It takes time to look this good, Norris,” You tut, gesturing towards yourself. The bridesmaid dresses Rebecca had picked out are absolutely gorgeous. Hopefully gorgeous enough to get you what you want. 

“You do look amazing,” Lando murmurs, eyes not-so-subtly raking up and down your body a little too long to be considered innocent. Mission accomplished. 

“You don’t clean up too bad yourself,” You reply, letting your gaze do the same. His tailored suit fits him wonderfully, and his hair is styled to perfection. You fight the urge to run your fingers through his curls and ruin it by pulling him close. 

Things between Lando and yourself are…complicated, to say the least. You were both young when you’d met, all the way back in 2019 when Carlos had done his time with McLaren. Since then, you’ve both grown up, kept in touch, and somewhere along the way, you’d come to a realization. 

You like Lando. A lot. And you think he might like you back, but neither of you have done anything about it. You flirt with each other like people who have feelings for each other and tease each other like friends, dancing around the elephant in the room whenever you’re in the same vicinity. 

It certainly doesn’t help that Lando is one of your brother’s best friends. He looks up to Carlos, respects him as a mentor, and wouldn’t dare make a move against his baby sister. But honestly, you wish he just would. This back and forth is starting to get a little old. 

Now is as good a time as any, with Carlos distracted on his big day. And what was that again people said about weddings being the perfect chance for blossoming romance? 

Someone with a headset and a clipboard comes up and whispers something in your ear, cutting your moment with Lando short. You stow away your phone in your purse, already prepared to follow them to attend to whatever needs doing. 

“Duty calls. I’ll see you later, Lan,” You say, straightening Lando’s tie with a sweet smile aimed at him. “Don’t miss me too much.” 

Lando chuckles, looking equal parts fond and amused. “I’ll try my best.” 

The next time you see him is right before you're meant to walk down the aisle together. You take your mark right next to him, smoothing out your dress one last time before looping your arm through his. 

He leans towards you, lips almost brushing your ear with his whisper. “Missed you.” 

“Thought you said you’d try your best not to?” 

“Guess it wasn't good enough. Listen, can we talk later?” 

He sounds uncharacteristically serious, and it has you giving him a cautious sideways glance. “Of course,” You say. You nudge him gently with your elbow. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s good. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry.” 

“Well, now that you tell me not to worry, I think I might,” You reply, brows furrowing. 

“Then don’t.” 

“Seriously, Lando? You couldn't have waited until after the ceremony for this? I mean, honestly—” 

Suddenly his lips are on your cheek briefly, causing your outburst to die off mid sentence. You stiffen momentarily at the unexpected action. When you turn to gawk at him, he’s looking straight ahead, a satisfied little smile gracing his face. 

You don’t have time to process anything any further before you're being guided towards the beginning of the aisle. Straightening up, throwing your shoulders back, you tighten your fingers around your bouquet of flowers. 

Now isn’t the time. 

The ceremony goes swimmingly. There isn’t a dry eye in the place at seeing just how much Carlos and Rebecca love and cherish each other. Every so often, you’ll catch Lando’s eye across the aisle and he’ll wink back at you, settling your nerves at standing up there in front of everyone. 

You start to wonder what he wants to talk to you about. Your mind immediately goes to the worst possible thing, but surely it can’t be too bad. Right?

Lando doesn’t bring it up until well into the reception. He catches your eye from afar, tilting his head towards the nearest exit. Everyone is on the dance floor now, nobody would notice if you left. 

He slips out of the large hall silently and you follow a few seconds later, only startling a little bit when he grabs your hand and leads you further down the corridor until you can’t hear the lively music anymore. 

“What’s going on, Lando?”

He drops your hand in favor of starting to pace, rubbing his palms over his thighs nervously. “I’m gonna be really honest with you right now. Probably brutally honest. And it might fuck things up, but I think I might explode if I keep it in any longer.” 

“Uh…okay. That sounds concerning,” You say hesitantly, shifting on your feet. 

“It is. I mean, no, it’s not, it’s nothing but, I just…” 

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night, because you look absolutely stunning,” He blurts. “But not just today. I wanna kiss you all the time, and I know—I know I probably shouldn’t because Carlos is one of my best mates and you’re his little sister and he’d likely kick my ass if he ever finds out, but I don’t care, I—” 

“Lando,” You interrupt, fighting to keep your voice level. Finally, finally, something is happening. 

He continues on as if he hadn’t heard you at all. “—can’t keep doing this…this whatever thing we’ve been doing. I really like you, and I need you to know that even if it ruins our friendship.” 

Normally you’d entertain his yapping tendencies, but you want to tell Lando you feel the same way and he just keeps on talking like he’s the only one in this conversation, so you’re left with no choice. 

You push him back against the wall behind him with one hand splayed across his chest, the other hand coming up to cover his mouth. Lando’s ranting dies off the moment your hand touches his face, like you’ve just found his off switch and powered him down. 

“Can you please just shut up for a second?” You say exasperatedly. He nods quickly, completely doe eyed under your palm. “You gonna let me talk now?” Another nod, this one a little slower. “Good. I like you too. Have for ages.” 

Lando’s fingers curl around your wrist, prying your hand away from his mouth with furrowed brows. “You—you do? Really? Why’ve you never said anything?”

“Why haven’t you?” You shoot back, cocking your head. 

“Because…because!” He says incredulously, wrinkling his nose. “You’re Carlos’s little sister, I—he’d have my head.” 

You scoff. “Carlos isn’t my keeper, Lando. I’m an adult, I can make my own choices without having to consult my brother. If I want to date you, I can!” 

Lando’s gaze sharpens, the edges of his mouth curving into a smug little smile, and you know you’re in for it now. 

“Then let me take you out. On a proper date,” He proposes. It’s a bold move, considering you’ve still got him pinned against the wall with one hand, but his bluntness makes your focus flicker. 

Lando takes the opening and makes his move, now suddenly you’re the one with your back against the wall and he’s pushed himself closer than you’ve ever been before. For someone who was just worried about Carlos finding out mere seconds ago, he seems quite confident. 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” You ask softly, searching his face for any trace of doubt or uncertainty. What you’ve wanted for a long time is finally happening, but that doesn’t make you any less wary. If anything, it feels even more daunting. 

Slowly, Lando’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek almost delicately, like he’s afraid you might disappear into thin air if he moves too fast. His tongue darts out to wet his lips just before he leans in, deft fingers shifting from your cheek down under your chin, tilting your head up just enough to meet him in a gentle kiss. 

His lips are softer than you expect, tasting a little like the rum and cokes he’s been nursing all night mixed with something else sweet, and definitely living up to every dream you’ve ever had about this very moment. 

Lando’s thumb rubs along your cheek, a soft smile playing across his face when you break apart. “Believe me, I��m more sure about you than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.” 

You smooth out the lapels of his suit jacket from where your fingers had bunched into the material, beaming at him happily. “Always such a sweet talker, you.”

“Worked on you, didn’t it? I mean, it took years, but I’ve got you now, don’t I?” 

“Depends on where you take me on our date,” You joke. 

“Oh, I’ll take you anywhere you want, baby. Name it and it’s done.” 

“A sweet talker and a smooth talker. That could come in handy for when Carlos finds out.”

“No, it—why?” His voice squeaks on the last word, eyes widening almost comically.

You give his chest a firm pat, ducking out from under his arm to return to the reception. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, hm?”

“Sweetheart, c’mon! He won’t try to fight me, right? Right?” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ SAY IT AGAIN

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: you find out caleb had been logging into your phone at random times of the day to keep track of who you were texting. frustrated, you call him to yell at him only to question what exactly he was doing on the other end.

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+ , phone sex , sub!caleb (per usual) , masturbation , cnc , use of y/n

a/n :: highkey got this idea from that one scene in twk when cardans kissing jude & telling her to say she hates him..🌝🌝

he had absolutely no right to be invading your personal space. absolutely none.

you were so fucking angry.

caleb was away on a trip with gran. usually, he would simply ask to check your phone, and you'd happily give it to him- knowing he means well. but with the shit he has been pulling, you're starting to question whether or not he really does trust you like he says he does.

you had found out that he was hacking into your phone because the device started acting awfully odd. opening apps you didnt click on, siri turning on without any context, letters on the keyboard being pressed when you never tapped on them in the first place. confused (and frankly a little scared), you took it to a professional to get it checked out. when he asked if anyone else had the password to your socials, thats when the realization dawned on you.

you felt so stupid. utterly dumb. but how were you supposed to know? you had told caleb about the issue multiple times and each occasion you mentioned it he would always say the same thing: "thats so weird, pips.. maybe you should go get it checked out or something." feigning complete innocence.

you had enough.

driving home as fast as you could, you barely reach the front door before you're calling him nonstop until he answers.

"hey pips! i missed yo-"

"you fucking liar."

there's a beat of silence at that. your breathing is heavy, going right into the mic- giving caleb an idea of what he's in for.

"um.. excuse me?" caleb manages, swallowing thickly. he knows exactly what you're going to yell at him for and he's praying to jesus christ himself that he can manipulate his way out of it.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about, don't try to play dumb. you've been going into my phone and looking through my shit. i thought you said you trusted me? what happened to that? i mean, seriously, caleb, i thought we had gotten over this." you say, voice pinched a bit higher than usual. you're pacing around the room in order to keep yourself calm, heart beating at a distressing rate as you don't like to argue with him.

"pips, i really don't know what you're talking about," he utters, licking his lips. "i know whats been going on with your phone has been messing you up, but you don't necessarily have to blame me for it. look, once i get back i'll help you figure out what's wrong with it just to prove that it's not me. deal?"

you can tell that he's trying his best to soften his tone to make his lie more believable, but you aren't gonna buy into it.

"no. no, caleb, just quit the act already. i'm so tired of this. i'll give you two choices," you say, sitting down on the couch; elbows on your knees. "either you stop with the whole hacking thing and we stay together, or i cut things off with you and we never talk again."

for a moment, there's nothing being said. pure silence. he's absolutely speechless on his end of the phone, mouth agape and eyes wide. every few seconds, he'd attempt to say something but nothing would come out- resulting in something that resembled a stutter.

"well? what's it gonna be?" you asked, becoming to grow impatient.

"y/n.." he whispered. "you.. you can't do that to me. i-.. i'm sorry for doing all that crap. i didn't do it because i don't trust you... it's other people that i don't trust. please believe me, baby. i can't stop doing it, it's just my way of keeping you safe."

aaaand now it's your turn to be shocked.

"are you fucking serious?" you yell, and you swear you can see the look on his face regardless if he's visible or not. eyebrows raised up, cheeks as red as roses, eyes backed up with tears. you know how much he hates being yelled at by you... but he deserves it. "you can't be serious. please tell me you're pulling some joke."

" baby, please. i-"

"enough. just quit it. i fucking hate you, caleb."

he swallows. no, practically gulps. he shouldnt be turned on by the sound of that. he really shouldnt. he knows he should be terrified by the threat of you leaving him... but the tent growing in his pants is getting undeniably uncomfortable that he just can't seem to care.

unzipping his jeans, he gently lays his back on his bed, being carefully quiet to ensure you don't hear.

"you're fucking insane and no matter how much i try to talk to you about it you never change. it is draining, caleb. you have absolutely no idea how fucked up you are."

he's nodding against his phone, murmuring small 'yeah's here and there to let you know that he's listening. what you aren't aware of is the fact that instead of really listening, he's actually moving his hand at an insane speed on his dick. it gets to the point that he can't even respond, the pleasure taking over. all he needs is for you to tell him how bad he is and how much you despise him for him to be able to go over the edge.

the fact that you don't even know whats going on keeps him going for even longer.

"...-is so frustrating, caleb! you don't even care for me and... wait, are you even listening? hellooo?" you shout, expecting an answer.

he picks up his phone from where it was sitting on his pillow and takes it off speaker phone to reply. "y-yes, baby? 'm sorry.. i'm, um, listening. keep talking." he responds, stuttering over his words.

you roll your eyes, thinking he simply just doesn't care. "my god, you're so fucking annoying. i hate you so much, y'know that?"

he nods hastily, even though you can't see it. "y-yes. say it again. please." the last word comes out broken as he was embarrassingly close to cumming.

you stop in your tracks, both eyebrows furrowed. "um..." you utter, confused at what he was playing at. "i... hate.. you..?"

"f-fuck!" he whisper-shouts, hips thrusting into his hand as he drops the device back onto where it was initially. he brings his previously free hand down to his cock to stroke the tip, twisting his wrists. biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood, he makes his best effort to keep little whimpers inside of his mouth. it works for the most part... but you already knew what was happening. he does it too many times for you to not know.

"caleb." you warn.

he doesn't answer, he can't answer, mind is too hazy from the force of his orgasm. he's practically like putty on his bed, half asleep and half awake.

"text me in the morning." you say before hanging up and throwing your phone on the bed.

he will not ever learn.

[studioeisa]

first love/late spring 🌸 wonwoo x reader.

humans have four lives. a life of planting seeds, a life of watering seeds, a life of harvesting, and a life of enjoying those harvests.

🌸 pairing. first love!wonwoo x reader. 🌸 word count. 2.5k. 🌸 genres. alternate universe: non-idol, romance, friendship. 🌸 includes. first love/s, feelings realization/denial, reincarnation. prose-heavy. synopsis from goblin: the great and lonely god. title from mitski’s song of the same name. inspired by this wonwoo post i made way back when. 🌸 notes. this was my planned enlistment fic, but it took me a while to polish. much thanks to my dearest, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, for beta-ing and assisting with the final line. this goes out to @gotta-winwin, who i’m fairly sure i would find and adore in all my lives. my masterlist

Every morning at 7:42 A.M., you see him on the train.

He always boards two stops after yours, dressed in earth tones and quiet silences. There's a softness to him—the slope of his shoulders, the way he leans ever so slightly against the pole even when there’s a free seat.

He carries a book some days, a plain black umbrella on others. You’ve never heard him speak, but you’ve built a voice for him in your head anyway: calm, deep, a little rough like he only just woke up.

You don’t know his name. 

You know how he tucks his hair behind his ear when it falls forward, though. You know he reads with his thumb pressed between pages, like he’s holding space in more than just one chapter. You know the way his eyes flicker to the window, then away, like he’s still not used to being seen.

This is your first life: the planting of seeds. 

A glance, a passing thought, a what-if rooted in the mundane. You sit with him in silence, three bodies apart, and imagine what it might be like to bump into him at a coffee shop, to hear him laugh, to say something that earns you a second look.

Once, the train jerks too hard at a stop and he stumbles. Your hand shoots out before your brain catches up, steadying him by the forearm.

He murmurs something—a thank you, you assume— and offers a brief smile. It’s not quite the real thing, but it’s enough to keep you warm the rest of the day.

It’s nothing. It’s everything.

You begin to notice the little things. The way his shoes are always a little scuffed. The tiny pin on his tote bag shaped like a cat. The crease between his brows when he reads something particularly intense.

You wonder if he’s single. If he likes rainy days or prefers the sun. If he’d like the sound of your laugh. If he’s ever looked at you and thought, maybe.

You don’t know it yet—you won’t, not for some time—but you’ve already begun loving him. Not in the way that demands. In the way that simply hopes. That soft, shapeless kind of affection that asks for nothing in return.

Your mother calls this phase infatuation. Your friends call it a crush. But it feels deeper than that, doesn’t it? 

Something older. Like a seed you’d forgotten you planted, blooming in the background of your everyday life.

You don’t talk to him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You still show up every morning at 7:42 A.M., and that feels like something sacred.

Some people meet under fireworks. Others, under streetlights. 

You meet under the hum of subway rails, in the hush of early morning.

And even if nothing comes of it, you’ll remember this as the time you first saw Jeon Wonwoo—when your first love took root on a train that always ran late.

Your second life starts with an assigned seat.

It’s the first day of the semester, and the classroom hums with new pens, old anxieties, and the sharp scent of whiteboard markers. The teacher calls out names alphabetically, and when she says “Jeon Wonwoo,” you don’t flinch.

You don’t remember him from the train, of course—not in this life. That’s how these things work.

He slides into the seat beside yours. A quiet presence that feels oddly familiar. You glance over, and he nods politely, lips pressed in a near-smile.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies. His voice is calm, deep, a little rough like he only just woke up.

This is your second life: the watering of seeds.

What started as quiet curiosity now stretches its limbs toward the light. You’re no longer strangers in motion, but classmates. Partners in the second row.

Wonwoo is the kind of student who doesn’t speak unless he has something to say, but when he does, it sticks with you. He lends you a pen on the second day without you asking. He shares a pack of sour candy with you during long lectures.

He passes you a note during a film screening that just says: This movie is terrible.

You laugh, quietly, and write back: You’re just saying that because you have no taste.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You wound me,” he murmurs, the words only for you to hear. A lot of Wonwoo’s words are that— yours and yours alone. 

You get partnered for a project. Your topic is obscure and boring, but somehow, working with him makes it bearable. You bicker. He rolls his eyes at your messy notes. You start staying late after class to finish the presentation.

One night, you’re both hunched over his laptop in the library. It’s raining outside. The air smells like paper and distant thunder.

“Do you believe in past lives?” you ask him out of nowhere.

He looks at you, long and unreadable. “I think we meet the same people over and over. Just in different ways,” he eventually says.

He’s indulging you. You’re not sure why. You push it, as if somehow wheedling an answer out of him might solve the pitter-patter in your chest. “So, maybe we’ve met before?”

“Maybe,” he says. Then, softer: “Feels like I’ve known you longer than a month.”

Your heart does that thing again. A steady lurch, like a train car that turned a corner a little too fast. 

It’s nothing. But it’s also everything.

He walks you home after. You share his umbrella. He offers the dry side of the sidewalk.

You don’t hold hands. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

But your sleeve brushes his once, twice. He doesn’t pull away.

The seeds are growing. They don’t know what they’ll become. They reach out of the soil and towards the sun anyway.

In your third life, there is yield. Something that bears ripe fruit, enough for you to pick and take a bite of. 

Your mothers meet in the hospital nursery, trading horror stories about labor while you and Wonwoo cry in tandem from two separate cribs. Dual births, dual baby albums, dual high chairs at every party.

The houses share a fence, your families share garden tools and barbecues, and you and Wonwoo—well. You share everything else.

From the moment you could speak, you said his name like a reflex. 

Your first sentence was reportedly, “Where’s Woo-woo?” and his was your name, mispronounced and gummy.

The tapes your moms keep are a blur of toddler feet and wonky camera angles. There’s one where he’s in your kiddie pool wearing a bucket on his head, and you’re laughing like he just invented comedy.

No one ever sat you down to explain your friendship. It just existed, like gravity or rain. And maybe that’s why the feelings sneak up on you. You’ve never known life without Wonwoo—how are you expected to know when the air has started to shift?

The day it happens, you’re sixteen. Lying on the warm roof of the garden shed while he’s reading aloud from some fantasy book you insisted on but couldn’t get through. 

You’re not listening to the words. You’re watching the way his lips move, the way his lashes catch the sun. You’re trying to memorize the curve of his jaw, and then you’re thinking: Oh. Oh no.

You spend weeks pretending it didn’t happen.

“You good?” he asks once, when you nearly fall off the roof trying to avoid sitting too close.

“I'm fine,” you say, too fast.

He frowns, puts his book down. “You're acting weird.”

You sit up, brush dust off your shorts, make a face. “You’re weird.”

“That’s not a denial.”

“Shut up and read, Wonwoo.”

He does, but the silence between his sentences stretches.

It becomes harder to lie the more he smiles at you, the more he brushes dirt from your cheek or laughs at your jokes. You feel like you’re drowning in something warm and familiar, something you’ve known all your life but never named.

One night, after a school dance you don’t attend, he climbs through your window like always, hoodie slung over his shoulder. You’re sitting on your bed, and he flops beside you like gravity yanked him there.

“You ever think about stuff?” he asks.

You side-eye him. “That’s vague.”

“I mean, like... why some things feel easy. Like how we never had to try to be friends.”

You don’t say anything. The warmth in your chest is unbearable. He’s right there. He’s always been right there.

“Do you ever feel like we’ve known each other longer than we should’ve?” he continues, eyes on your ceiling. “Like, before this?”

You blink. Your heart pounds so loud, you’re sure he hears it.

“Sometimes,” you whisper. “Sometimes I think I’ve been in love with you before I even knew what love was.”

He turns to look at you. And Wonwoo—quiet, steady, unshakable Wonwoo—smiles like he’s been waiting all his lives to hear it.

“Me, too,” he says. 

Your first life—

You wonder about him for years. His quiet demeanor, the books he read, the way he always stood near the door but let everyone pass him when it was his stop.

That was the first version of this feeling: Something sudden, warm, and unearned. Like the sun through a window. 

You never know his name, but you built stories around him on every ride, convinced that maybe, just maybe, he’ll turn around one day and say something. 

He never does. 

And when you graduate, change routes, move cities, you never see him again. He becomes nothing more than that. A story. A seed. A start—for what, you don’t know yet. 

Your second life— 

He had felt like a miracle, like fate circling back to tap you on the shoulder. You thought that love would bloom into something permanent. It felt like it should have. 

But timing is cruel, and the feelings—though mutual—couldn’t survive the storm of adolescence, the fear of messing up something tender. You tell yourself you weren’t meant to be.

You carry him with you anyway, in the songs you send each other, the paper cranes folded during long lectures, the way he once said your name like a secret he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

He walks you home, still, until he can’t. Until a lovely girl takes your place under his umbrella, and you find someone else to share your snacks with. 

At reunions, you exchange polite smiles and aborted nods. Both of you find happiness beyond each other.  

And then, the hardest of them all— 

The one who knew every bad haircut and birthday wish. The one who saw you through braces, heartbreak, and every awkward year in between.

You loved him with the kind of ease that novels try to replicate; for a moment, you thought that might be enough. But when the time came, when the feelings were named and returned, you both pulled back. 

Not out of fear, but reverence. 

Some things are too precious to touch. You’d rather have him forever as your constant, your anchor, than risk a goodbye too painful to bear.

“Maybe in our next life,” he breathes, forehead against yours, breath warm. “Maybe then we’ll be brave.”

You nod, your fingers curling over the front of his shirt like it might somehow keep him in place. “We always find each other, don’t we?”

He smiles. It looks a lot like a promise. 

In that life, you yield. 

At least you get to keep him. He delivers a tearful speech at your wedding. He makes you the godmother of his children. Your love reshapes into something else. One that still matters, even if it’s not the kind that you might have expected. 

Three versions of a first love. 

None of them last. All of them linger.

You don’t regret a single one.

The fourth life begins like the others—quietly, without fanfare.

You meet Wonwoo at a time when everything is finally still. 

No childhoods to tiptoe around, no adolescent crushes that tilt into heartbreak. You aren’t sitting across from him in a classroom or watching him disappear behind the closing doors of a train.

He is simply there—on a late spring afternoon at a mutual friend’s dinner, wearing a gray sweater and a small, uncertain smile.

You don’t know it at the time, but this is the life you get to keep him.

It starts slow. There’s time, now. You learn him from the beginning, with no earlier version to compete with. And yet something familiar pulses beneath it all.

You know how he likes his coffee before he tells you. You can predict the rhythm of his speech, the slope of his laughter. You fall in love with him easily, steadily—like gravity pulling you to the ground.

He is your first love in this life. You don’t tell him. Not yet.

And then one day, you lose him.

The details don’t matter. A job offer. A choice. A goodbye. Whatever it is, you let go. It feels like the end of a story you’ve lived too many times before. You think: This is the harvest, and it was never mine to reap.

But you were promised joy in this life, weren’t you?

Years later, you see him again. A bar, this time. Familiar in a way that makes your throat tighten. He hasn’t changed much—still soft-eyed, still shy with his smiles.

“Wonwoo?” you ask, unsure if you want it to be him or not.

He turns. Freezes. His voice, calm and deep, amused and affectionate, shapes the words in the back of your mind: “I was hoping it’d be you.”

You sit. You drink. You talk.

You tell him, somewhere between the second and third beer, “You were my first love, you know.”

Sure, you’re talking about this life, but a part of you feels like it goes beyond that. You’re not sure how many iterations of this story exist in the book of the universe; all you know is that this simply cannot be the only time you’ve counted Wonwoo’s eyelashes, as if you might be able to make wishes with them. 

He looks at you for a long moment. Studies you. As if, he too, is mapping out the features of your face against versions of you that no longer exist.

“You were mine, too,” he says.

You laugh, disbelieving. “Really?”

“Really.” 

There’s silence. A good one.

And then finally, finally, he kisses you. No fanfare. No salty tears as you resolve to stay friends. It’s not a daydream on the subway, not a fleeting thought in a library. 

It’s just that same, steady gravity of eventuality. 

When his hand finds yours, when your lips press together, when he pulls apart with a half-smile, you know. Jeon Wonwoo is your first love, and this time, he’ll be your last love, too.

In this life, you finally reap what you sowed.

In this life, the love lasts. 

[ethan-elliott]

17,483 signatures as of 15th April

We may not currently be as bad as the States but things are definitely worsening.

As a trans person living in the UK, I thought I’d share my thoughts for anyone unsure about why this petition is important (though bear in mind I am not an expert on this, only offering how it feels to me):

First of all, why is this happening?

The UK government is gearing up for the next 10 year review of the NHS, our healthcare service, and in this it states that:

“patients should not have to share sleeping accommodation with others of the opposite sex and should have access to segregated bathroom and toilet facilities. Exceptions to this are mainly confined to patients who need highly specialised care, such as that delivered in critical care units, or where it is clearly in the patient’s best interest to receive rapid treatment and same-sex accommodation is not the immediate priority. We expect NHS trusts to comply with these measures, as well as wider expectations to deliver health services in accordance with the Equality Act 2010, having appropriate regard to protected characteristics as defined in the Act where relevant.”

So how does this affect trans people?

Being transgender is a protected characteristic under the Equality Act, and the NHS guidance on same-sex accommodation states that trans people should be housed according to their presentation and should be asked where they’d prefer to be housed if medical staff are unsure. Theoretically, it shouldn’t make a difference.

Except. It also states this approach “may be varied under special circumstances where, for instance, the treatment is sex-specific.”

Same-sex accommodation may not fall specifically under treatment, but it is sex-specific nonetheless and the problem is, as always, with the emphasis on biological sex. This was confirmed by a BBC article which explicitly stated trans men would not be housed in male-only spaces and trans women would not be housed in women-only spaces.

The problem with this is two-fold. Firstly, the blatant disregard of trans people’s identity in the name of “safe spaces” but also the usual disregard for cis people who want women-only or men-only spaces. If I went into hospital now, I would likely be housed in a women’s space because my presentation would likely be considered feminine. But it’s the same goddamn problem as the bathroom policing all over again. If a large, bearded, masculine trans man came into a women’s accommodation, that is very likely going to make some of the women uncomfortable. And the same goes for trans women in men’s spaces, with the additional safety risks it might pose for her.

And so the question is…what happens? Do you blindly assign people based purely on their biological sex? Or do you house trans people who present differently to their sex marker in separate rooms and thus isolate and alienate them from other patients? And what happens if you don’t have a single room available?

I do not trust “appropriate regard to protected characteristics” one bit. It’s too vague, for starters. And “gender reassignment” is just one characteristic protected under it — so is sex. So the argument could be made that discriminating against a trans person was done on the basis of protecting the rights of (cis) women/men - and we all know which is likely to win. The right-wing media may report that trans people are “eradicating women” but that’s not what’s really happening. And our government is only leaning more into right-wing attitudes not to mention the incredibly scary rise of the Reform party.

I mean, the fact that trans people are STILL being used as a fucking political debate and distraction tool says it all. They do not care about the rights of trans people and, in practice, this change opens the floodgates for refusal of healthcare for trans people.

What can we do to help?

If you’re a British Citizen or UK resident, SIGN THE PETITION. You can also write to your local MP about it, and if you need to find out who that is, it’ll give your local constituency and MP (based on your postcode) at the bottom of the page once you’ve signed.

If you’re not a citizen/resident: share the petition to anyone you know who can sign it. make noise about it on social media if you can. support the trans folks around you.

These are our rights. The rights of people like me and my friends, many of whom are trying to go into the research/healthcare sector - hell, I’m waiting to hear back from an NHS position as I type this. These are the rights of people you may see all the time and never realise — but once we’re gone, you’ll know. And yes, this is about trans people, but it’s not just about trans people. We are who they come for first. It might be your friends and family or it might be you next. This is the reality we’re living in.

Well fucks? Get to it!

[rika-mmendmethings]

Against Blood & Water l Sylus

Chapter 3

Ch 2|Chapter 4 next Wednesday

Summary: Seventeen years ago, your life had taken a turn for the worse when your newborn twins were separated from you by a cruel twist of fate. The same fate had led you to the N109 Zone, to your children who were all grown up now. Reconciliation with your boys would've been slightly easier had they somehow not acquired a father figure over the years who wasn't letting them go anytime soon.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For this chapter: mentions and drugs, stalking, first meeting with Mephisto

Word count: 2.1k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: New chapter every Thursday! The schedule for this and Interdimensional Epiphany has been switched! The reader comes across Elysium and its special dishes. Just who do you think could've sent that for her? This story is for the Sylus girlies' who consider Luke and Kieran their babies. A little information on the timeline: in this story, the reader is 35 with Luke and Kieran being 17. Sylus never felt like 28 to me, so he's a hot-ass 39-year-old man (bear with me). The timeline is a bit confusing, I know, but soon it'll be cleared, too. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me, and I'll try my best to give you a proper answer without revealing too much. Let me know if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series. ♥

Tag list: @babyx91 @pillarofsnow @beyond-the-stars-fairy @yuki-sama6 @sylviewrites @idiashusband @sadmonke @monophobix @lunarvolley @stxrrielle @fries11 @gremlinartstudio @lillycore @novthirty @animegamerfox @cathedralofaudra @nm4565natty @69-gojos-wife-69 @eolivy @namjoons-toenails @silverianni @nezuswritingdesk @beaconsxd @justpassingdontworry @ruyaya @browneyedgirl22 @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @sneakysnakeysstuff @midiplier @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @dana-nite @lazeriii @into-deepspace @nommingonfood @eden-axe

“They work for… who?” You choked on your drink, one hand clutching your chest as you struggled to regain control of your lungs.

Ginerva didn’t even spare you a glance. She continued wiping the glasses with an air of aloofness, repeating herself with unnerving calm. “Onchyinus. Luke and Kieran work directly under the leader of Onchyinus.”

You could barely breathe. You clenched your fist against your mouth, brows knitted tightly, body rigid with tension. The initial shock had worn off, and now, panic began to rise like an insidious tide in your chest, relentless and consuming.

Your entire day had been spent combing through the N109 Zone in search of any scrap of information about your twins. Every time you mentioned their crow-themed outfits, or their apparent role as some kind of henchmen, people recoiled as if you had spoken of demons. Some were visibly shaken, others too frightened to speak. But one thing remained constant: no one would offer you any answers. Despite your best efforts — and an obscene amount of money — they dismissed you, fear clouding their expressions.

It wasn’t until one particularly kind soul directed you to a hidden intel hub masquerading as a bar — Elysium — that you finally felt you were getting closer. The cost was steep, but you didn’t care. You handed over the money without hesitation.

The woman behind the counter — Ginerva, you learned — seemed surprised by your inquiry, but she hadn’t dismissed you outright. She’d been more than willing to share what she knew, though you were beginning to regret your pursuit.

Now, you rubbed your temples as the beginnings of a migraine pulsed beneath your skull. With the haze of shock still clouding your thoughts, you managed to ask, “Are you absolutely sure this information is accurate?”

Ginerva paused her task, her gaze sharp as she turned toward you. Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth. “I’ve run this place for years.”

You didn’t argue. After all it’s better to not tell a professional about their profession, you had plenty of experience on that. Leaning back in your chair, you swirled the last of your drink around in the glass, trying to gather your thoughts. “How long have they worked for Onchyinus?”

Ginerva seemed to deliberate for a moment. “I’d say one or two years. Before that, their history is unknown.”

Your heart constricted painfully, and you swallowed the remainder of your drink in one go. The bitter liquid burned its way down your throat, but it did little to extinguish the fire of dread spreading through your chest. You would’ve preferred to think of your children being under Onchyinus’s wing from the start — if only to imagine they had been protected from the horrors of the streets. At least there would have been food, shelter, some semblance of care. Whatever twisted morality they’d adopted under the faction’s influence would have been easier to accept than the thought of them suffering alone, vulnerable to the world’s cruelties.

You shoved the guilt, raw and uninvited, back into the darkest corners of your mind. Now was not the time to revisit your worst nightmares. You needed a plan, a way to infiltrate the damned place, to find them.

You were deep in thought when a plate was suddenly set down in front of you by a small girl — probably Aislinn, Ginerva's niece. She handed you a menu displaying the day's special and said, “Today’s special is for the lady, and none other.” With that, she left, leaving you both perplexed and curious.

Today’s Special: Friend’s Incentive

Midnight black sesame tart, cacao nibs, bourbon-infused syrup, Victorian-era rhododendrons, and twin mirrors facing each other.

Description: Read the opposite.

A frown creased your brow as you read the menu again, trying to make sense of it. Friend’s Incentive? The idea that today’s special had been sponsored by someone specifically for you made no sense. You didn’t know a single person in the N109 Zone. You glanced down at the dish in front of you, and sure enough, a midnight black sesame tart sat in the center, garnished with cacao nibs and a dollop of what you presumed to be bourbon-infused syrup.

Next to the plate was a small bouquet of four orange rhododendrons, but something about it felt off. Three of the flowers were wrapped in newspaper, while the fourth one was left exposed, not inside the wrapping and attached to the bouquet only by a white ribbon. You blinked in confusion. What an unusual way to arrange a bouquet.

You shrugged off the oddities and took a large bite of the free dessert. The bittersweetness hit your taste buds immediately, making you scrunch your nose in reaction. You set your spoon down after finishing the dessert, but something in the back of your mind kept gnawing at you. You looked back at the menu, staring at it intently. It was bothering you. The more you examined it, the more it didn’t sit right.

Your mind, trained in law, began to analyze the situation more critically. A strange arrangement of flowers, a dessert meant only for you, and the vague description of the dish — there was something hidden here. One thing at a time, you told yourself. You needed to figure out what the description meant.

“Read the opposite.” But which word was the opposite? It couldn’t be the ingredients themselves, so it must be the title.

What, then, was the opposite of “Friend’s Incentive”? You pondered this for a moment and quickly pulled out your phone to check the most accurate antonyms for each word. For “friend,” the options were: enemy, nemesis, rival, and... fiend. For “incentive,” the antonyms included: damper, curb, hindrance, and... deterrent.

You paused as the realization hit. In this context, the most fitting opposite to “Friend’s Incentive” would be “Fiend’s Deterrent.”

Was this… a warning? Someone sinister could have sent you this to dissuade you from your path. The dessert, bittersweet, seemed to speak volumes. Could it imply that someone is sweetly telling you to step away before their patience turns bitter over a prolonged time? The odd arrangement of the flowers — one stray blossom hanging outside the wrapping, yet still tethered to the bouquet by a white ribbon — might suggest a complex message: they don’t want you to be part of something you are already entangled with, yet the bond remains, reluctantly. And the choice of flowers being rhododendrons — those flowers that, in Victorian floriography, symbolized danger, warning, and caution — was a direct message, a harbinger of something more ominous.

But what of the twin mirrors facing each other? What did that mean? Something connected to your children, perhaps, but it remained unclear, slipping just beyond your reach.

It somehow felt like it was all pointed to Luke and Kieran.

But who, exactly, was trying to steer you off course — and, more importantly, why?

You caught a glimpse of Aislinn walking past the corner, and instinctively, you called out to her. "Aislinn, who sponsored today's special?"

The little girl paused, shaking her head, her eyes downcast. "We aren’t allowed to disclose any personal information about our sponsors. Sorry." She offered a quick, apologetic smile before skipping away with her empty tray.

You sighed, folding the menu neatly and tucking it into your pocket. You snapped a few photos of the eerie bouquet, certain you'd need them as evidence to add to your ever-growing conspiracy board.

As you walked down the musty lanes of the street, the occasional sound of a wing flapping tickled your ear, followed by that unmistakable sensation — one which usually occurs when the opposition lawyer drilled holes in your head or in simpler terms, when you were being watched.

The events of today have only sharpened your caution and given the times you’ve been chased by goons of wealthy criminals so that you’d give up their cases — you were willing to take any measures for your safety if danger arose any moment now. You took shallow breaths, increasing your pace. Each step was deliberate, each turn smooth, as you made sharp corners, trying to lose the stalker in a maze of alleyways.

You had been running for a while when it became clear: your pursuer wasn’t human. It was most likely a drone or some mechanical contraption, a tool sent to monitor your every move. This deduction meant that actually catching said-stalking-object had very slim chances. 

You ducked behind a small billboard and pressed your clasped hands to your chest. In a matter of few seconds, you felt the familiar sense of clarity in your mind as your evol influenced all the possible outcomes, manipulating probabilities in your favor. 

A strained caw broke the silence, and your eyes immediately snapped to the source of the sound. There, perched on a streetlight, was a crow — except it wasn’t a crow at all. Its metallic sheen and erratic movements betrayed it for what it was: a mechanical bird.

You reached for your gun, drawing it with practiced ease, aiming at the strange creature. Your palms tingled as you steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger. The crow dropped from its perch in a graceful, fluid arc, landing with a muted thud.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slipping the gun back into its holster beneath your coat. You moved toward the fallen mechanical bird, your mind racing with questions about who would send such a thing after you.

Perks of having a probability evol was altering all chances of any kind of event in your favor and the bird at your feet, broken and twitching with its damaged wing, was a testament to that. 

You carefully picked up the mechanical bird, examining it with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The bullet had torn through its left wing, but it still whirred faintly, as though alive and with the way it was cawing, you almost felt bad for the insentient being. But then again, someone had planted it on your back, intending to keep tabs on whatever you do, so you couldn’t brush this off easily. 

Without further hesitation, you stuffed the damaged bird into your handy tote bag and made your way back to your apartment. Once inside, you immediately locked all windows and doors, ensuring your sanctuary was secure.

The first thing you did after that was duct tape the bird to your newly constructed conspiracy board. As you affixed it with care, you added the unsettling polaroid of the bouquet and the menu you had pocketed, the items now firmly part of the growing puzzle you had yet to solve. You double-checked the bird, making sure it was securely taped in place, though you knew it wouldn’t be going anywhere with its broken wing.

After freshening up, you hurried back to your conspiracy board, a steaming bowl of cup noodles in hand. As your gaze fell upon your previous board — the one centered on exposing the infamous drug lord — you felt an undeniable wave of guilt cloud your thoughts. You had been supposed to gather enough evidence and bring the case to court as soon as possible, to deliver justice to the victims’ families. But here you were, tangled in a web of your own problems, dealing with something far more personal — your children.

On days like this, you couldn’t help but resent your profession. It never allowed you the luxury of selfishness. You rubbed your face in frustration, tears threatening to well in your eyes. Maybe you could juggle both cases? Pursue whichever lead came your way first? Surely, that could work... right? It had to.

You shoved your emotions aside and paced the room, your mind racing. Occasionally, you found yourself locking eyes with the mechanical bird — its red, beady gaze a constant reminder of the unknown forces circling you. After walking laps around your couch, an idea hit you like a lightning bolt. Without hesitation, you rushed to the bird, ripping it free from its tape restraints and inspecting it closely.

You noticed a small red LED light blinking beneath its talon. Years of experience told you immediately that it was a long-range tracker. 

That meant whoever had planted it on you knew exactly where it was at all times.

Before you could fully process this, a sharp knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. Panic instantly flooded your system. You instinctively reached for your gun and inched closer to the door, heart hammering in your chest. Gods, was this it? Was this how it ended? And for all the legal battles you fought, you didn’t even have a will in place. 

Was fate going to rip you apart from your twins once again after all this time?

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

I remember you making a post about possibly making a neglected hero/vigilante reader so all I'm thinking about is nh! Reader just acting or being DC's version of moon knight and having beef with a DC villain or the DC version of Dracula. like we act unhinged with the batfam as a coping mechanism so they just see us as batshit crazy and impulsive but everyone else gets the more strategic and thoughtful side

(Omg I'm sorry this turned out so much longer then needed -💠)

(SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG YOU BARELY DONT EVEN REMEMBER SENDING THIS ASK AHHH)

Reader is definitely Red x. No question, ask they're definitely.

Red X reader has too much fun terrorizing the Teen Titans and Young Justice at the same time. You basically stole big brother Dicks whole flow by taking his costume. You get to fit in while taking his weapons and being inspired by some of his other gear, like his batons, and making them way more lethal. He'll be absolutely shocked and confused why somebody has his old Red X costume and how come they look way better in it than he does. It's just not fair. You're having fun bullying Damian and Jon, pushing those boys around like rag dolls as they try to take you down. Villain or hero, you're just in it for the fun, really. Sometimes, you will team up with the bats, but other than that, you’re ruining them. You trashed Bruce’s Batmobile on a joyride with some of your villain friends. Got to say, the kids at the H.I.V.E. really know how to party. You stole Jason’s motorcycles and modified them to match your whole Red X aesthetic. Tim literally hates you. Back when he had a crush on Connor, you were too busy flirting with him. You're messing around with Damian any chance you get, being the cooler older sibling that his teammates from the Teen Titans look up to—simply just bullying him because he's shorter. Wait until those Bruce Wayne genes kick in! But the funny thing is, none of them know you're actually Red X. You keep it hidden to the point where they honestly believe that you two are different people. And here you thought Bruce Wayne was a good detective; he doesn't even think his own kid is Red X! Last time you left your costume out in the open in front of Steph, you joked that it was for a cosplay. Thank goodness she was dumb enough to believe you. And being Red X, you can talk as much trash as you want. Duke is your permanent op when he signals, but you two are pretty indifferent about each other. You pick a fight with Cass every moment you get, having trouble learning your body language and fighting style. You're just so weird and confusing that she almost figured you out during a fight; you pretended to be weakened and hopeless just so she would get off your back. Idiots, I swear, it's fun being the outcast of the family.

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Four

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, ableism, strong language.

Notes — They're ridiculous. The entire grid thinks the same. I love them your honour.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2019

The door to the motorhome clicked shut behind him, and Lando barely had time to grab a bottle of water from his mini fridge before he heard his name.

“Lando.” His dad’s voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that meant he was either about to get bad news, or he was in a shit ton of trouble. 

Lando turned, water bottle halfway to his lips. “Yeah?”

Adam was sitting at the small table in the lounge, one arm draped over the back of the seat. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked more like the man Lando had watched negotiate million-pound deals than the easygoing dad who sent him memes and wore mismatched socks with his dress shoes.

“I spoke to Zak today,” Adam said. “About the two of you.”

Lando blinked, lowered the bottle. “The two of who?”

Adam gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb, kid. People are talking. Zak is… God, I thought he was going to collapse. He’s pissed off, Lando. Thought he could trust you with her.”

Lando felt his entire body go stiff. “We’re just friends.” He forced out. 

“Are you?” His dad asked, and then sighed. “We both know how this world works, Lando. I’ve watched you work yourself to the bone for this since you were eight years old. Everything you’ve done, everything we’ve sacrificed — it’s all led you here. And right now, you’re risking all of it meaning nothing.” 

Lando shook his head. “No. It’s not like that.”

“Maybe not yet. But it will be. The media will twist it. Her father is your boss. It isn’t just your reputation on the line — if this goes sideways, it could cost you your seat.”

Lando’s jaw clenched. “Zak isn’t like that.”

“No,” Adam agreed, wearily. “But other people are. Sponsors. Management. People who don’t know you. You think they’ll believe this isn’t going to cause favouritism? That you won’t start getting special treatment?”

Lando felt like he was being burned alive. “I would never—.”

“But that’s what it’ll look like.” Adam’s voice stayed even. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true.”

Lando looked away, glared at the wall. His hands clenched into tight fists. 

“She’s not just… some girl,” Lando muttered. “She’s smart. And she’s… funny, in her own way. She always knows what she’s talking about. Knows how to make me feel better when I’m in a shit mood.”

Adam just looked at him, steady and quiet. “You like her,” he said. He sounded defeated.

Lando didn’t say anything. Because yeah. Maybe he did. Maybe he liked her a lot. Enough that it scared him a little. Enough that his stomach flipped weirdly every time he saw that rare smile of hers. Enough that he didn’t even know when it had started — just that it had snuck up on him and now it was everywhere.

Adam sighed, reaching a hand up to rub between his eyes. “I’m not saying you have to stop being her friend, mate. I’m just saying that you need to think long and hard about what you want; don’t think like a nineteen year old boy. Think like a world champion.”

Lando’s fingers tightened around the water bottle. The plastic crinkled.

“She’s Zak’s daughter,” Adam stared at him, like he was trying to drill the crux of the issue into him. “You really think that doesn’t come with consequences?”

“I didn’t… mean for it to be like this,” Lando said quietly. 

“Sometimes it just sneaks up on you,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it’s always a good thing.” He stood up, gave Lando’s shoulder a light squeeze — the way dads do when they mean I’m not angry, I’m just worried — and then walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Lando stayed frozen in place, staring at the floor, pulse still loud in his ears. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling; just that it was too much, all at once.

He looked at the bottle in his hand. Still full.

Not thirsty anymore.

— 

“She said it wasn’t a date,” Tracy said, leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug of tea. “They just got burgers.”

“After qualifying,” Zak pointed out. “He drove her to get burgers. Alone.”

Amelia sat at the kitchen table, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, utterly baffled. “I don’t understand how eating burgers together means that we’re dating. We didn’t even share our fries.”

Tracy snorted softly into her tea. Zak did not laugh.

“This isn’t about fries,” he muttered, pacing. “This is about perception. Do you know how many people saw the two of you together? In public? My phone blew up. There are photos all over instagram. And don’t get me started on how often you’re photographed together in the paddock. I— I was blind. Totally blind.” Great. He’d reached the spiralling stage. 

“Well, I texted you where I was!” Amelia said, affronted. “That’s the rule, and I followed it!”

“Yes,” Zak stressed, eyes wide. “An hour after you left the paddock, Amelia! I would’ve stopped you, had I known that he was going to… to steal you like that.”

Tracy giggled. Zak, notably, did not.

Amelia just stared at him, her expression caught somewhere between confused and concerned.

She had never, in all of her nineteen years of life, seen her father act so out of sorts out over something so insignificant. 

“Okay, look,” he took a deep breath, rubbing at his forehead like it pained him. “Amelia. Honey. You’re my daughter. And Lando? He’s my driver. If people think that something is going on between you two, it could become a very, very big problem for me. And for Lando. Do you understand that?”

Amelia blinked. She wasn’t stupid. She’d read plenty of romance books on her Kindle since getting it for her fifteenth birthday — and if she and Lando were in a book, she was pretty sure their trope would be “forbidden romance,” maybe even “opposites attract,” though she wasn’t entirely convinced she was Lando’s opposite. More like… Lando adjacent.

It was fun to think about.

But if her dad really believed this could negatively affect Lando’s career… maybe he had a point.

“Okay,” she said seriously. “So how do I stop wanting to kiss him?”

Zak made a sound. Like a dying animal.

Tracy full-on howled into her tea.

“I—oh my god,” Zak muttered, dropping his head into his hands. “No. Nope. I can’t do this.”

Amelia frowned at him, and then looked at her mom. “That wasn’t rhetorical. I would appreciate an answer.”

Zak didn’t respond.

Tracy, tears in her eyes from laughter, leaned over and gave Amelia a tight shoulder squeeze. “You don’t,” she said sweetly. “You just get very good at pretending that you don’t want to.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Zak grumbled into the table. “Great parenting. A masterclass.”

Amelia nodded, serious. “Okay. I can pretend.”

A beat passed.

Then, with total sincerity, she added, “But if he kisses me first, it’s not technically my fault, right?”

Tracy almost spit her tea. 

Zak’s forehead hit the table with a thump. 

— 

Amelia wasn’t eavesdropping. Not on purpose.

She was just looking for her water bottle. She remembered leaving it near the PR area while charging her phone. The door was mostly shut, but not all the way, and when she reached for the handle, hearing her name made her pause.

“Amelia is becoming a bigger problem than I think anyone wants to admit.”

It was Lisa, one of the senior PR officers. She recognised her voice; had sat and eaten lunch with her a few times at the MTC. They only travelled to races with a small PR team, and Lisa was one of them. 

Amelia squinted at the gap in the door. She should leave, but it felt like her feet had been glued to the floor. 

“She’s sweet,” someone else said. A man she didn’t recognise. “I mean, she’s obviously harmless. It’s not like she’s pulling a Piquet.”

“No, she’s not doing anything wrong,” Lisa agreed, “but she's constantly in the garage, on camera, lingering around Lando like a girlfriend would, or an engineer, but she’s not officially anything. She's Zak’s daughter, yes, but that shouldn’t give her free rein. Should it?”

There was a pause. Someone clicked a pen.

“I know we’re not supposed to say it out loud,” Lisa continued, “but she’s… neurodivergent. There’s only so much control we have over how she’s perceived. She’s different, and I think people can tell.”

Suddenly, it felt a little harder to breathe. 

“She, ah, fixates. And she paces. She’s terrible on camera, can’t speak to reporters at all. I saw a thread yesterday, talking about hor she has weird vibes, speculating if Lando’s only spending time with her because she’s Zak’s kid and he’s trying to be a teachers pet.”

“That’s awful,” someone said, though they didn’t sound shocked.

“I know. But if this turns into a tabloid story, it’s not going to be cute anymore. It’s going to look irresponsible. And nepotistic.” 

There was a shuffle of paper. A sigh.

“Either we bring her into the fold properly, media train her, give her a title, have Zak back their friendship publicly, or we need to start distancing her. She can’t just float.”

Amelia stepped back, her breath caught somewhere sharp in her ribs. She didn’t realise she was shaking until she saw her own hands.

They hadn’t said anything untrue.

Not really.

But they’d said it like she was a problem to manage instead of a human being with feelings.

She backed away quietly.

She no longer wanted her water bottle.

In fact, she didn’t want to be here at all.

— 

She found Lewis leaning against a wall near the back of the Mercedes hospitality unit, Roscoe sprawled on a cooling mat like a little lion in the sun.

He looked up and smiled when he saw her. “Hey, trouble. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

Amelia tried to smile back. It didn’t really work.

Lewis’s face changed. “What’s wrong?”

She sat down heavily next to Roscoe, crossing her legs, arms tight around her ribs. The dog lifted his head, gave her a sniff, then licked her knee. She didn’t react.

Lewis crouched. “Amelia?”

“I’m just,” She sucked in a deep breath. “I think I’m making a mess of everything.” She stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to. I just thought—I thought that I was just being helpful and quiet and normal enough. But I’m not doing any of it right. I talk too much, or I hover, or I forget to look people in the eye, and apparently people think I’m weird.” 

Lewis’s face darkened. She wasn’t looking at him, though, she was staring at her shoes now. At the last race, Lando had used an orange marker pen and written his number ‘4’ on the side of them. 

“They were talking about me,” she continued, voice flatter now. “The McLaren public relations people. They said I might ruin things for him. For Lando. Because I’m too much and not enough at the same time.”

“They said that to you?” Lewis asked, his voice sharp.

She looked at him. He sounded angry. Her stomach twisted tighter.

“No one said it to me. But I heard them. I wasn’t meant to. I don’t think they knew I was there.” Her hands tugged harder at the cuffs of her sleeves, wrapping the fabric around her fingers until they turned pale. “And they’re right, really. It’s not personal. It’s strategic. I’m a… a flaw in the system.”

Lewis exhaled slowly, deliberately, like he was keeping something inside. “Amelia, you don’t get to say that about yourself, alright? That’s a rule now.”

She blinked at him. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not true,” he said, quieter. “I’ve raced with actual liabilities. People who don’t care. Who don’t try. You? You’re none of those things. You’re thoughtful, you work hard, and you pay attention in a way most people don’t. That already puts you ahead of half the paddock.”

She didn’t say anything. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, like she could physically push the confusing feelings away, then leaned a little closer to Roscoe. The dog didn’t move, just let her run her fingers through the warm fur along his side like it was the only thing keeping her from floating away.

Lewis stayed close but gave her space. After a moment, he glanced down at his phone and the telltale *swoop* sound informed her that he'd sent somebody a message.

A few minutes later, footsteps approached from behind. Light. Quick. Familiar.

She didn’t even need to turn around.

“Hey,” Lando said, voice low and careful.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

“I’m okay,” she said automatically. 

Lewis stood, brushing off his hands. “Take her for some air, yeah?” He suggested to Lando. “She needs a break. And someone who won’t let her be mean to herself.”

“I got her,” Lando said quietly, eyes on her the whole time.

Lewis gave him a look — subtle, but full of something unspoken. Then he reached down to ruffle Amelia’s hair, a brief and awkward brotherly gesture.

She winced.

Her shoulders curled up, recoiling slightly before she could stop herself. It wasn’t Lewis’ fault — she liked him, respected him, even — but he wasn’t Fernando. He didn’t know how to touch her gently. How not to startle her.

Lewis paused and immediately pulled his hand back. “Sorry,” he murmured. “Force of habit.”

She nodded once. She appreciated the apology more than the touch.

Lando sat down beside her, close but not touching.

“Tell me who I need to fight,” he said.

She huffed a breath. Almost a laugh. Almost.

He didn’t rush her. Just waited.

After a long moment, she looked at him. Her voice barely a whisper. “I think I might mess everything up for you.”

He shook his head immediately. “Nah. I’ll be the one who ends up doing that.” 

She looked at him then, really looked at him. He looked serious, but she could never be sure. 

He smiled at her, then. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s take a walk around, yeah? The sun’ll start setting soon.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he started walking, and after a second of hesitation, Amelia stood up and followed. She walked beside him, glancing at him occasionally. He led her around the paddock, moving past engineers and mechanics who were too busy to pay attention to either of them. 

“My dad talked to me. About, uh, this. Us.” He glanced at her. She frowned at him. “Because we went for burgers.” He explained. 

Amelia sighed. “Everyone is so obsessed with that. I don’t understand.” 

Lando smirked. “Because you went with me, Amelia.” 

She made a face at him that she hoped portrayed her frustration. “That doesn’t explain anything.” 

“I like you,” he said slowly, his voice steady. Honest. She blinked at him. “I think a lot of people worked that out before I did — and definitely before you did.” He said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. Was he making fun of her? It didn’t feel like it. It… it felt a lot like he was teasing with her. Flirting with her, like the men in her books.

Her heart did that thing again. The one that felt like it skipped a beat, but not in the way she wanted it to. He was, wasn’t he? He was flirting with her. Because he liked her.

Before Amelia could say anything, Lando stopped suddenly, and she almost bumped into him. Looking up, she saw a camera swing toward them, one of the Sky cameras following the action around the paddock, with Ted Kravitz just a few meters away.

Her stomach dropped. A rush of panic hit her chest.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, instinctively trying to step out of the camera’s line of sight.

Lando’s hand landed gently on her back, guiding her in the opposite direction, but it was too late. The camera was already focused on them. Amelia could feel her face flush as heat spread up her neck. This was exactly what she didn’t want — being seen alone with Lando was only going to make everything worse.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” Lando said, his voice low and steady, reassuring her without a hint of panic.

But just as the camera zoomed in closer, Amelia heard a familiar voice.

“What do we have here?” It was Max Verstappen.

She blinked. Carlos Sainz appeared beside him, and Daniel Ricciardo wasn’t far behind. The three of them swarmed around her and Lando like it was something they did every day. Max slung an arm around Lando’s shoulders, and Carlos and Daniel positioned themselves between Amelia and the camera, effectively blocking the view. 

“We were just on our way to get ice cream,” Daniel said with a mischievous grin, his accent thick and playful. “Warm evening, isn’t it?”

Amelia blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in energy. Max gave her a wink, his smile wide and completely unbothered by the camera’s presence. Carlos just chuckled. 

Lando shook his head, clearly amused, but his eyes didn’t leave her. There was something there, something that made her stomach flutter, and for a second, she forgot about the camera entirely.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Lando said with a smile, his tone light but grateful. It was clear he wasn’t at all mad at the distraction. In fact, he seemed oddly relieved by it.

“Only when it’s necessary,” Max quipped, and with that, the trio slowly started backing away, blocking the camera’s view like pros.

As they made their way toward the back of the paddock, Lando’s hand remained at the small of Amelia’s back, a silent reassurance that she was, for now, out of the spotlight.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice just for her.

Amelia nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking about how many points you guys have combined.”

“In Formula One?” Daniel asked, raising an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

She shook her head. “No, I mean, like, total points. From when you all started karting.” Her voice was mumbled, her thoughts swirling with a million numbers. “Give me a minute, and I’ll be able to tell you.”

Max raised an eyebrow at Lando. “Mate…”

Lando laughed, his eyes full of pride. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

— 

iMessage — 5:09pm

Dad You okay honey?

Amelia Yes. I do not like Lisa anymore.

Dad Lisa who?

Amelia She works in public relations.

Dad What did she do? Did she say something to you?

Amelia I eavesdropped.

Dad: Amelia

Amelia She said that people say that I have weird vibes. Do I?

Dad No, you don’t. Your vibes are just fine. I’ll have a chat with Lisa about where her focus should and shouldn’t be. Are you okay, though? Did you feel upset?

Amelia It’s fine. Lando made me feel better :)

Dad: Amelia Brown. Where are you right now?

Amelia I am in Lando’s rental car.

Dad I can’t believe this. Tell him that I am going to murder him.

Amelia No. He hasn’t kissed me yet. He probably won’t do it tonight because we are with his friends.

Dad … Which friends?

Amelia Max Verstappen. Carlos Sainz. Daniel Ricciardo. 

Dad I see. Have fun, sweetheart. 

— 

iMessage — 5:18pm

Zak Brown You told me you had a chat with him.

Adam Norris I did. What’s he done now?

Zak Brown Check Sky Sports. Your son’s created an Amelia army. A very expensive one. Looks like Max Verstappen’s leading it.

Adam Norris Just saw it. Never seen him like this with any girl before.

Zak Brown Look, he’s a great kid, but I’m trying to figure out how to handle this. It’s turning into a media circus.

Adam Norris I can talk to him again.

Zak Brown Maybe we just tell them they can’t see each other. Lay down the law. I’ll tell Amelia to stay out of the paddock for a bit, create some distance.

Adam Norris That’ll only make it worse, Zak. Lando’s young. He’s a bit of a party animal. Amelia seems like a good kid, but she’s not his usual type. Maybe this will blow over.

Zak Brown Let’s hope so.

— 

Carlos paced slowly down the pit-lane, the cool morning air brushing against his skin. The soft hum of the paddock was building as teams made their final preparations. He adjusted his cap, squinting against the light creeping over the horizon, the sun just peeking out from behind the clouds, casting long shadows on the tarmac.

His gaze flicked to the pit-wall, where strategists were already setting up, even at this hour. His own crew were deep in race plan discussions, while other teams were doing the same. The calm before the storm. The last moments of peace before the full intensity of the race weekend took over.

Silverstone always had a unique energy. The fans here were different—almost like they had a special connection to the track. It was Lando’s home race, and McLaren’s too.

Carlos glanced over at Lando’s garage without thinking. He was already there, leaning against the back wall in a pair of matching grey sweats, smiling widely. Carlos followed his gaze. Ah. Of course. Amelia Brown, perched on the counter in front of the telemetry screens, animatedly talking, her hands moving as much as her words.

Carlos found himself wondering if the way her feet kept bouncing against the cabinet was a... stim, the English term. He had done his research when he learned about Amelia’s autism. It had helped to understand why she was so blunt when giving advice and never made eye contact. It also explained why his father's words had clearly hurt her more deeply than he would ever be able to understand.

The sound of Amelia’s laugh echoed across the pit-lane, rare and light, catching Carlos off guard. A few people turned to look, but he smiled to himself and resisted the urge to do the same.

All he could do was hope that his younger teammate knew what was at stake, and took great care in the meantime. 

— 

Amelia lingered at the edge of the McLaren hospitality, watching the crowds begin to surge toward the podium. The noise was already swelling; chants, cheers, announcers shouting over each other, and she could feel the pressure building in her chest, like the edge of a storm. 

She didn’t usually go. Podiums were too loud, too crowded, too much. But this was Lewis, and he’d won his home race, and something just… tugged at her.

She turned, scanning the garage until she found Lando, who was mid-conversation with one of the engineers, still in his race suit, half-zipped down and tied around his waist. His face was flushed with post-race adrenaline, curls stuck damp to his forehead. But when he saw her staring, he excused himself and jogged over.

“You okay?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“I think…” She hesitated, glancing at the rising noise and the streamers already flying in the air. “I want to go to the podium. For Lewis. Just for a bit.”

Lando blinked, but then he grinned, and she stared. He was… he was all sunlight and softness. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He said. 

She nodded once, but didn’t move.

Lando seemed to understand immediately. “Do you have your defenders?”

She nodded and pulled them out of her cross-body. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Put them on. It’ll be chaos.”

“I will try not to freak out.” She promised him. 

“I won’t let that happen,” Lando said, already turning to lead the way.

He didn’t reach for her, didn’t crowd her. Just walked a few steps ahead, carving space through the sea of people with casual ease, occasionally glancing back to make sure she was still following. She appreciated that. That he didn’t hover. That he didn’t try to fix, fix, fix. Just… made it easier.

By the time they reached the base of the podium, the champagne was already spraying. Lewis stood centre stage, beaming, arms raised in triumph. The crowd roared, and Amelia’s McLaren branded ear defenders did their job, muting the sharp edges of it until it was just a distant hum. She watched Lewis through the fog of smoke and sound, her eyes soft with pride. He deserved this. He always did.

Lando leaned slightly toward her, not close enough to touch, just enough that she could hear him clearly. “You glad you came?”

She nodded, eyes still on the podium. “Yes. It’s good.”

The following day, a picture of them would go viral on F1 social media. Lando, still in his fireproofs, race suit dragging slightly against the ground, standing just behind Amelia — who wore her noise-cancelling headphones like armour, her eyes fixed on the podium. She was smiling, wide and unguarded, the kind of smile people didn’t often get to see from her. Lando was looking at her; fond and sweet.

The photo would circle the internet within hours. People would say a lot of things.

But the overwhelming consensus?

Soulmates.

Whether they knew it yet or not.

NEXT CHAPTER

[rebel-hunk-enjoyer]

I just want to say that as a fandom old, seeing someone's headcanon become as load bearing as the actual canon in certain parts of fandom is ... kind of weird? actually? :\

I have friends who stopped writing for a smallish fandom like two decades ago because all the neat little headcanon stuff they put in their fic series kept getting co-opted by other people as some kind of "sacred fanon" and put in other fics and they thought it was annoying af, they straight up just bounced from the fandom and kept writing their shit privately for themselves because seeing all their ideas regurgitated back at them in other stories, without anything new or fresh, was boring and kiiiiind of offensive to them.

meanwhile, now, I sometimes feel like I need to do a deep dive into the source material's wikipedia to check if something is actually canon or if it's fanon written with the authority of canon, fanon written like 'well everyone knows this,' fanon written with dramatic irony but like the characters I'm not in on it because I'm unfamiliar with that particularly nuanced bit of fanon.

and not only is that kind of exhausting, but it's also feels like a creative dead weight? it feels like nothing can be added to fandom if it contradicts the "sacred fanon," the load bearing fanon, the fanon everyone knows about to the point that it 'might as well' be canon. I sometimes feel discouraged wanting to talk about headcanons because if you want to do a headcanon you have to keep in mind someone else's previously established headcanon on the subject, too, and that just is not as fun to me. that's actually creatively stifling to me.

perhaps a completely different issue from what op is discussing, here, but I kept seeing this post and thinking about this issue as an extension of that. it isn't even that the fanon doesn't make sense in a particular fic scenario, anymore, it's that the fanon is inside the walls and I feel like I'm reading a fanfic of a fanfic of someone else's headcanon idea that made sense in their context but no longer makes sense in the game of telephone that's plopped this idea into another fic from another author with a different cast of characters but in the same overall universe. you know?

there are some headcanons where it's like. 'i would enjoy this as a light seasoning in fic but certain chunks of the fandom have become more committed to this than the actual canon and made it load-bearing in scenarios where it simply doesn't make sense'.

[honeyhotteoks]

yunho's fromm messages this morning.......... (and some extended thoughts on this man and his very obvious dom vibes, we've got a brand here at honeyhotteoks and i need to talk about it again before i die)

the messages in question:

🐶: yes, yes, you're such a greedy one (a little selfish one) 🐶: be mine, you're mine. 🐶: yes, yes, i'm yours.

transl credit to @/jyhcomfort on twt, i know there's a few alternate translations floating around that say "i'm greedy" or "i'm a greedy one" / one of my friends said via context it makes more sense to be "i'm greedy" but for delulu purposes..... either way..... my feelings are the same under the cut

cw: nsfw discussions about dom/sub dynamics and various connected kinks. as always, i am not being so delulu about this that i actually think i know him. this is all fun and speculation and at this point he's just my muse for the romance novel version of him. okay.....

i tweeted the below the other day (video link here) but like seriously he just keeps proving me right and i have thoughts i gotta get off my chest before i combust.

so i've just been thinking about this whole thing since someone on twitter made a little joke about him being a bitchless kpop idol, which like... i know people got upset, but i'm sure that was just a joke, and that's not really what this is about i've been seriously cooking on the duality of this man for the past few days and have things to say.

first of all...... i've talked about this a million times, but when i say this man is a dom what i mean is that he has the potential for all this stuff, i have no idea what he's actually doing in his private life. he could literally be waiting for marriage for all i know, but i do think you can tell in someone's personality who would kind of be good at something 'naturally' if they got into it / went that direction.

something yunho's been doing a lot recently is showing more of himself physically / showing more skin / being a little more suggestive overtly in his content which is something pretty new for him. he's always been hot and has been sexy on stage, but as far as his personal content, this is pretty new for him. this to me is classic like.... he's gained confidence in the past few years, gotten into his mid twenties where you start to get a little more self assured with your own body or expressions of sexuality, etc. BUT the way that he's sharing this content i think is interesting and indicates to me that he knows what kind of reaction this is going to get from his fans, and he enjoys it.

he's been burying sexier pictures within his ig albums as not the first picture, with the first one being a little cute or just regular idol style pics. prime examples below --

in both of these cases, these are the "sexy shot" but he puts them in the middle of the albums. then when fans freak out or ask him about it on live/fromm his responses are usually something along the lines of "ohhh it wasn't too much was it? ah, no ofc i'll keep it just to that" etc. it would not surprise me in the least if he enjoyed the thought that we're all losing our shit when we swipe to these pics / our reactions online after not only give him a bunch of compliments but shows how riled up we are. that is CLASSIC dom behavior.

in a sexual context, this might look something like..... a dom casually touching or implying sex to their submissive over the course of a day but not really acknowledging it / playing off their submissive's reactions as cute/funny or in a meaner context, ignoring it all together. at the end of all that teasing though is the dom in control and verbally messing with their sub while finally, finally delivering the pleasure they were hinting at. this is something i am so positive yunho would excel at with the right partner.

that combined with the way he talks to hotteoks in fromm really gives the impression that he knows they enjoy being teased, and i truly don't think he would act like that if he didn't like it. he's been in the idol game long enough, if he wanted to set different boundaries or speak to his fans differently, he absolutely could. meanwhile he's out here playing straight into the delulu trends with birthday lockets and wedding flowers and boyfriend-y pics all the time on ig. not to mention the zayn song.... like he knows what he's doing.

he often teases hotteoks about being so flustered over him, plays into how 'jealous' he can be, and overall just leans in hard to d/s dynamics in a way that tells me it's quite natural for him. even just how often he says things like 'you're mine' / 'i'm yours' / 'you know you're mine right?' / 'yes you belong to me' etc. in his fromms just reads completely as a dominant establishing and reinforcing those ownership dynamics.

when it comes to other parts of his personality, i've talked about that at length in other posts (eye contact, natural leadership, body language, active listening, etc.) but i've really noticed a shift in him recently and can't get it off my mind.

on top of that, there have been a few moments on stage or with other members lately that really ring dominance. i'm very specifically thinking of the way he interacts with mingi and wooyoung, which i've written about before, but...... he's consistently holding eye contact with them lately, teasing them in ways that are platonic yes, but also just part of that natural part of him that wants to mess with someone who will break. like.... did yunho have to hold wooyoung's jaw while they were kneeling during halazia? probably not, but he did it. and the smile afterwards when wooyoung got a little flustered was clear satisfaction with the reaction he got.

generally i think there's an impression that some people have that because yunho's so "nice" or so goofy/dorky/sweet/thoughtful/bashful etc., that means he doesn't have as much rizz or like wouldn't be into dynamics like this or harder kinks. i have to say..... that to me always reads like inexperience, with men potentially, maybe sex, and/or these dynamics in particular. in my experience, it's often the sweet guys who can switch it up in bed, and i would even say they often make better/safer doms because they are caring/considerate/attentive to their partner's comfort and pleasure, not just their own or if they're being perceived as sexy. it's not a hard rule of course, everyone's different, but i'm just saying, yunho being a nice guy doesn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't enjoy teasing the fuck out of his partner.

all of this is to say........................ if hasn't figured out his dom potential yet, i sincerely hope he does because i think it's such an obvious fit for him.