#I saw him just standing there last night and realized

[leia-writes]

hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)

it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there

Maybe You'll Be There

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones

note: thank you so much for your request!!

warnings: angst

“Get out.”

You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.

“I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 

“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”

You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”

He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.

“Which one, In-ho?”

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”

He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.

You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.

Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.

~~~

You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.

After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.

In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.

As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.

A promise he was never able to keep.

There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.

You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.

The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.

~~~

In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.

He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.

She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.

Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.

He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.

In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.

She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.

A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.

“Are you here to see the show?”

They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.

You.

You were performing at the lounge tonight. 

He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.

She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”

The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”

The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.

He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”

The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 

“Are you alright?”

In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”

She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 

“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.

“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”

He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?

As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.

It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.

“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”

A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 

You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.

In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.

Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.

Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.

“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.

In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”

“The drinks didn’t take that long.”

In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”

He was taken aback for a second. “What?”

“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”

He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.

“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 

“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”

Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”

As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.

Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.

He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.

Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 

~~~

You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.

You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 

And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.

You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.

As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 

You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.

You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 

Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.

You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.

In-ho.

[wondergirlsthings]

From Heartache to Healing

PAIRINGS: lando norris x (ex)gf!reader/joao felix x reader

The text pinged her phone as she sat in the airport lounge, waiting to board her flight back to Monaco. She hadn't seen Lando in weeks due to her work trip abroad, but they’d been texting and calling every chance they got. Or so she thought.

Her best friend’s message was blunt and impossible to ignore:

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but Lando was seen with Magui last night. It didn’t look innocent."

Her stomach dropped, and a storm of emotions swept through her confusion, anger, disbelief. She immediately pulled up Instagram, scrolling through stories. There it was: a photo someone had snapped of Lando at a restaurant, Magui sitting far too close, their smiles too intimate to pass off as friendly.

The betrayal stung worse than she imagined it would. After everything they had shared, after all the promises.

By the time she landed in Monaco, she had already decided not to confront him. Not yet. She wanted to think, to process. But fate wasn’t on her side. As she stepped out of the airport terminal, there he was, waiting for her with that familiar smile that now only made her furious.

"Hey, love," he said, pulling her into a hug. She let him hold her for a moment before stepping back.

"Don’t," she said coldly. "Just don’t."

He frowned, confused. "What’s wrong?"

She laughed bitterly. "You tell me, Lando. Or should I ask Magui?"

The color drained from his face. "I—it's not what it looked like—"

"Save it," she cut him off. "I don't have time for excuses." She turned on her heel, leaving him standing there in stunned silence.

Over the next few weeks, she focused on herself. But that didn’t mean she let Lando's betrayal slide.

That’s when João Félix entered the picture. They met at an event in Lisbon—his charm and warm demeanor were a refreshing change. He didn’t need to try too hard; she found herself smiling at his jokes and enjoying his company without even meaning to.

When Lando called to "talk," she let him stew. He found out about João through social media, a photo of them laughing together during a casual dinner hitting the tabloids.

Her phone buzzed nonstop, Lando’s name lighting up the screen. She ignored every call. She wasn’t dating João to make Lando jealous. Not entirely. João made her feel valued, respected—things she realized Lando hadn’t done in a long time.

The next time she saw Lando was at a mutual friend's party. João had his arm around her waist, his presence steady and reassuring. Lando’s gaze followed them all night, his jaw tight. When their eyes met across the room, she tilted her head and gave him a small, knowing smile.

Let him wonder. Let him regret.

Because she was done crying over him.

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

Hello everyone! This is my first time write and hopefully many more to come

I take requests for F1 and Football players and idk maybe someone else but not sure so far . I hope u liked this!!

[aventurineswife]

Reader has been away visiting their family members who happen to live in a different country (Modern au?). The visit was quite long, lasting for almost a month. They obviously kept in touch with their partner, sending them messages daily. Calling daily, and even fave timing and showing them what they were doing. But that didn't make the distance any harder. They missed their partners terribly and couldn't wait to be back with them. So imagine the surprise of their partner when the reader finally came back and earlier than the time they gave. That deserves a special kind of celebration, no? (Suggestive?) (Dang heng since you went crazy for him yesterday, Aventurine, Veritas, and Kaveh together, and you pick the last character!)

“Though Miles Apart, Our Hearts Were Always One”

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Modern AU, Fluff, Romance, Reunion, Long-Distance Relationship, Suggestive Content, Emotional Intimacy, Established Relationship, Surprise Visit, Mild Angst (Missing Each Other), Humor (Light-Hearted Moments).

Warnings: Suggestive Themes (nothing explicit, but implied intimacy), Mild Emotional Angst (due to separation/missing their partner), Mention of alcohol (for Aventurine), Brief Depiction of Personal Insecurities(?).

A/N: SHHHH!! 🤭 I wish I could write smut...🧍‍♀️😪 Oh well

The night was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of rain against the windowpanes of Dan Heng's apartment. He sat in his room, surrounded by the comforting stillness he often sought after long days. His phone rested on the desk beside him, displaying your last message: "I’ll be home in a few days. Can’t wait to see you again, my love."

He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. Even though you had kept in touch with daily calls and messages, the physical absence weighed heavily on him. He missed your presence—the way you brought warmth and light into his world. He didn’t like to admit how often he lingered on your texts, scrolling through your photos, cherishing the sound of your voice in his memory.

The front door creaked open. Dan Heng froze. No one else had a key to his apartment. His heart quickened as footsteps echoed in the hallway.

And then he saw you, standing there, soaked from the rain but glowing with excitement. “I’m home,” you said softly.

Dan Heng stood abruptly, his usual composed demeanor slipping as he strode toward you. He stopped just short of touching you, as if afraid this was a dream.

“You’re early,” he murmured, his voice low.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” you admitted, stepping closer.

That was all it took. Dan Heng pulled you into his arms, his spear-like restraint shattered. He buried his face in your shoulder, his grip firm but tender.

“You should’ve called,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have been a surprise then, would it?” you teased.

Dan Heng chuckled lightly—a sound you’d missed more than you realized. His hands slipped to your waist, his touch growing bolder as his lips found yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, filled with the longing of weeks apart.

The night stretched on as he showed you just how much he’d missed you, his usually reserved nature giving way to passion and tenderness in equal measure.

Aventurine lounged in his private suite, a glass of fine whiskey in one hand, his other idly twirling a poker chip. The city skyline stretched out before him, glittering like a sea of stars. His mind, however, wasn’t on his game or his drink—it was on you.

He sighed dramatically, tossing the poker chip onto the table. “What’s the point of winning if I can’t share it with my favorite lucky charm?” he muttered. Your daily calls had kept him sane during your trip, but they weren’t enough. He craved your presence, your laughter, the way you teased him for his flamboyance.

A knock on the door broke his reverie. Aventurine frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Rising with a lazy grace, he crossed the room and opened the door.

There you were, grinning like a gambler who’d just hit the jackpot.

“Surprise!” you said, throwing your arms around him.

Aventurine laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Darling, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he teased, pulling you inside. “Do you know how dull life has been without you? My games have been off, my drinks less sweet. But now…”

He spun you around, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, I think it’s time we celebrated properly.”

Before you could reply, he swept you into his arms, carrying you toward the plush couch. His kisses were slow and deliberate, each one more intoxicating than the last.

“You’re not leaving me again anytime soon, are you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Not a chance,” you promised, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The shared apartment was unusually quiet. Ratio sat in the library, a book in hand, while Kaveh paced the living room, grumbling about a design flaw in one of his projects. Despite their contrasting personalities, they had settled into a comfortable rhythm during your absence. Still, both men missed you dearly, their days feeling incomplete without your presence.

Kaveh sighed, flopping onto the couch. “Do you think they’ll call tonight?”

“They always do,” Ratio replied without looking up from his book.

But tonight, your call never came. Instead, the door creaked open.

Kaveh was the first to notice, his eyes widening in surprise. “Wait… is that—”

“Miss me?” you asked, stepping into the room with a grin.

Ratio’s book snapped shut as he stood, his eyes sharp with disbelief. “You’re early,” he said, his tone calm but his expression betraying his excitement.

Kaveh was less composed, rushing forward to sweep you into a tight hug. “You have no idea how much we missed you!”

Ratio joined a moment later, his touch more reserved but no less meaningful. “You should’ve informed us. We would’ve prepared something special.”

“This is better,” you said, pulling them both close.

Kaveh chuckled. “Guess we’ll have to improvise.”

The night that followed was a mix of laughter, teasing, and tender moments. Kaveh’s kisses were fervent and emotional, while Ratio’s were measured and intense, each touch and glance revealing how much they had missed you. Together, they made sure you felt the depth of their love, the three of you reunited in a harmony that needed no words.

[rejectedbytheempty]

All Day and All of the Night

pairing: simon riley x f!reader, no use of y/n

word count: 2.7k

cw: references to kidnapping (no actual kidnapping)

synopsis: you wake up in a strange man’s room wearing his shirt after a night out and chaos ensues

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a painful throbbing at the base of your skull. You groan as you roll over onto your back, putting your hands on either side of your face as if it would soothe the pounding in your head.

The last thing you remembered was thinking that one more shot wouldn’t hurt and that it was the weekend anyway, what’s the worst that could happen? You guessed that there were many more drinks to follow, but nothing you could recall. you managed to peel your eyelids open, half-crusted with leftover mascara.

The room spun slightly as the world came into view and you resisted the urge to lean over the side of the bed and empty your stomach from the vertigo.

“Christ”, you muttered, your voice hoarse and painful.

Rubbing at your throat, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and looked out into your room. Only... it wasn’t your room.

It felt as if ice water splashed down your back as the haze from your hangover was won over by a new feeling: fear. Looking down, you saw that instead of the clothes you wore to the club last night, you were in an oversized army green t-shirt. Now you really felt like you were going to throw up, and you did, managing to scramble over to a trash can before last night’s dinner could be spewed all over the carpet.

After a few dry heaves, you figured the worst was over and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Now that the wave of nausea had lessened significantly, you started taking stock of your situation.

You were in a sparsely decorated room, a couple of books sitting on the desk, and a dresser nestled in the corner of the room. That, and the cologne smell that was wafting off the shirt you were wearing meant that you were in a man’s room.

Although your mini skirt and low-cut top were nowhere to be found, you did note that you were still wearing the same bra and underwear you had on last night. And it didn’t seem like there were any marks on you or any indication that you had been touched beyond the obvious fact you had been changed into different clothes.

Suddenly, you realized that your phone was nowhere to be found either, instilling you with a new sense of panic.

“Shit!” you muttered softly, searching under the covers and crouching to look below the bed frame. You looked over at the door, and since you didn’t have your phone or any way of knowing where you were, you supposed you were going to have to try the door.

You cautiously stepped over to it, reaching out for the handle like it was some kind of cursed object. You shrieked loudly in shock when the handle turned abruptly and the door swung inwards.

In stepped a behemoth of a man, with white scars running across his face, almost like how the sky looked in a lightning storm. The scar on his lip deepened as he frowned, looking directly at you. You were frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare at him like a deer in headlights.

“What are you yellin’ for?” he asked in a low, rumbling voice.

“W-what?” was all you could manage to say.

He stepped closer, shutting the door behind him, “You squawked like a chicken when I opened the door.”

You swallowed thickly, “You scared me.”

He seemed to soften at that, his brown eyes losing some of their edge as he took in your situation. You probably looked a mess, remnants of makeup still on your face, your hair mussed up from sleep, and a shirt about two sizes too big hanging off your frame, just barely covering the lace panties you had on.

To be fair, if he was the one who took off your clothes, then he had already seen them so it wouldn’t really faze him if he saw the black lace poking out. Not that those semantics really mattered to you when he was standing there and staring you down.

“Why am I here?” you asked suddenly, unsure where you got the courage to speak from.

He blinked at you and then his mouth twisted into a mischievous grin, “You mean, you don’t remember?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, as it seemed like this conversation was slipping away from your control by the second, “I.. uh, maybe, maybe not.”

His grin grew even wider at your words, then he started laughing, actually laughing in your face. You folded your arms across your chest, face turning into a scowl. Kidnapper or not, he was being rather rude.

“What’s so funny?” you asked.

He shook his head, still laughing softly, “Oh, nothing. Just that you got pretty wild last night.”

Your angry expression faded slightly, you let your crossed arms fall down from your chest to your midsection, “I was?”

He nodded, “Oh yeah, climbing on the bar, singing along to all the songs, even if you didn’t know the words.”

You gulped, feeling your face flush slightly, “I.. might’ve done that, I’m not sure.”

He nodded, and you noticed that he was enjoying this, the sick bastard. “Mhm, and you kept saying that you were, quote, going to remember this night forever! unquote.”

Your hands had now fallen at your sides as flames licked up your cheeks at the mentions of your antics. You looked down at the ground as you asked him, “So, how did I end up here?”

“After the bartender cut you off, you threatened to sue him and then you tried to punch him. I stepped in, pulling you off of him and wrangled you out of the bar. I was gonna get you an Uber or a taxi but you wouldn’t let go of me. Even after you threw up.. on the both of us.”

You looked up at the last sentence, suddenly realizing why he had changed you out of your clothes. It all made sense, and as he was describing last night to you, some fragments and pieces of your memory came back. Although, you wish they didn’t. You hid your face in your hands, groaning slightly, both from your memories and from the pain of your headache coming back with a vengeance.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry” you said through your hands, not even wanting to look him in the eyes.

There was a pause for a moment and then he said, “It’s alright, couldn’t just leave you to be by yourself like tha’ at the bar, who knows what coulda happened?”

You managed to take your hands off your face and look back up at him again, “Thank you, seriously. If there’s any way I can pay you back or-”

He put a hand up to stop you, shaking his head, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, how ‘bout you let me make you breakfast, hm?”

You weren’t sure if you could keep it down, but you nodded anyway. Who were you to refuse his offer when he had already done so much for you?

“Right then, it’s settled. Why don’t you freshen up some and breakfast should be ready by then?” He pointed to the hall, “the next door is the guest bathroom, has some toiletries for you to use.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

He nodded gruffly and left the room. You shut your eyes forcefully, feeling the roar in your ears at the pressure. “Fuckkkkkkk” you let out a long sigh. After scrubbing your hands down your face, you decided to follow his directions and headed to the guest bathroom. You figured that maybe after you splashed some cold water on your face, it would turn out that this was all some horrible dream.

It wasn’t a dream like you were hoping but you were grateful for the toothbrush and toothpaste, finally cleaning the taste of bile from your mouth. Digging through the cabinets, you found a new package of travel deodorant and some hair products that you also made use of. You also found a container of paracetamol and quickly took two to ease the pounding in your head.

Looking in the mirror you saw death staring back at you, but at least the person you were looking at didn’t smell so much like vodka anymore.

He was right, when you walked into the kitchen he had just finished up breakfast and was setting out two plates with plentiful servings. You took a seat at the kitchen table across from him and after he picked up his fork and started eating, you looked down at your plate.

He had made you two fried eggs with runny, orange yolk, toast slathered with butter, strawberry jam dripping down the sides, and some browned sausage, covered in a light sheen of oil. Hesitantly, you picked up the piece of toast, taking ginger bites out of fear the food would come rushing back up.

After eating about as much as you could stomach, you washed it all down with the glass of orange juice he had set out for you. When you looked up you saw that he had raised an eyebrow at your still half-full plate but said nothing about it.

He gestured his head towards your plate in a silent question of ‘you gonna eat that?’ You shook your head and he eagerly took the plate from you, scooping your leftovers onto his own portion.

As he began digging into the spoils, you broke the silence, “Sorry, I’m not sure if you told me yesterday, or not, but what’s your name?”

He swallowed the bite he was chewing and shook his head, “I didn’t tell you yesterday, you were too busy puking on my leather jacket.” You winced at that but he continued, “The name is Simon. Simon Riley.”

You nodded, it was a fitting name, you supposed. In turn, you shared your name and he hummed in acknowledgement, “I know.”

At your confused expression, he elaborated, “I had to close your tab at the bar, needed to know your name so I.. may have looked at your driver’s license,” he at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed for going through your personal items. You weren’t really sure what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful he closed your tab for you, but he also invaded your privacy.

You settled on ambivalence for his actions, “Thank you, I guess?”

“You’re welcome” he said, around a mouthful of toast. You just barely hid your expression of disgust. As nice as he was, he didn’t really have any table manners, and must be limited on human interaction based on your short conversation with him.

“So,” he asked after he wiped his mouth clean, “were you there with your friends?”

“Yeah, we were having some kind of girl’s night.” He frowned at your words, “And your friends let you go on like that?” You opened your mouth to defend them, but at that moment, you couldn’t really think of anything to defend them.

For one, they watched as you got blackout drunk, and instead of making sure you got home, they let some random man take you home? You hoped they at least had the decency of texting you this morning and asking if you were okay. Speaking of, where was your phone?

“Did I still have my phone on me when.. well, when we went home together?” He nodded, “I put it on a charger last night, should be fully charged by now.” He pointed to an outlet in the entryway where your phone sat on a small wooden table next to a scratched up old iPhone, that looked so outdated that you wouldn’t be shocked if it was the first model Steve Jobs came out with. You laughed audibly but quickly covered your mouth when you realized what you had done.

“Right, what’s so funny, then?” he asked.

You turned to look over at him, and grinned, pointing at his phone, “This yours?”

He nodded, “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

You laughed again, “I’m surprised this old of a model still works!”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Of course it still works, wouldn’t be using it if it didn’t.”

You shrugged, “Guess so, just maybe think about buying a phone from the past decade, yeah?”

He just grunted and shook his head, “Don’t need one with all those fancy gadgets and whatnot, if it works, it works.”

You took your phone off the charger and walked back over to the table, “Whatever you say, Simon.” He scoffed in response but seemed more amused than actually angry at your teasing. You smirked at him but then turned your attention to your phone as it powered back on.

Must’ve died last night, then, good thing Simon charged it, you thought.

You did have a few texts from your friends, as it turns out, but not the worried ones you were hoping for. They were all from last night, something along the lines of ‘met this cute guy, see ya!’ and ‘hope you have fun with that total hunk you left with.’ “Assholes,” you muttered under your breath as you scrolled through the thread.

You weren’t expecting them to babysit you, but maybe a little check on you would’ve been nice. What if you had been drugged, or Simon had been a kidnapper? Your death could’ve ended up on a true crime podcast sandwiched between a distasteful comment on how hot your kidnapper was and a Hello Fresh ad break.

“Not good news, I take it?” Simon asked.

Your scowl did make it pretty obvious, and you sighed, “Yeah, not good. I mean, it’s like they didn’t even care if I made it home last night!”

He hummed in response. He was not a man of many words, you had discovered.

“I mean, seriously, I can’t even count the number of times I’ve held their hair back when they puked behind the bushes, or gotten them home when they overdid it on the tequila, and how do they repay me? By leaving me in the dust, that’s what.”

You were genuinely fuming now, as if last night had woken up years of pent up rage. “They never appreciated me, they never invited me places unless they wanted to have someone DD, they always hung out without me, and they constantly asked for money without even paying me back for the other times I had lent them money!”

It was silent in the kitchen for a moment, then Simon laughed, “Good on ya, luv. Knew they were wankers anyway.”

You helped Simon clean up the dishes, even though he had emphatically insisted you didn’t need to, he finally relented when you had explained that it wasn’t fair that he do all the cooking and all the cleaning.

You both made quick work of the chore and as you wiped your sudsy hands on your shirt, you remembered that it was not, in fact, your shirt you were wearing.

“By the way, where did you put my clothes?”

“Laundry room, put them in a plastic bag on top of the washer. Figured you would want to wash it yourself, considering most girls have some kind of preference for drying or not drying, or the temperature of the load.”

Hm, someone cooked here.

“Oh, thank you. Just.. I figured I wouldn’t stay around long enough to do laundry at your place, and since I wanted to not get catcalled the second I stepped outside, I’d prefer if I had some kind of pants. Do you think I can maybe borrow one of yours?” You asked hesitantly, you felt like you had already overstepped a million boundaries and here you were asking the poor man for more things.

He nodded, “Sure, I think I have some old sweatpants in my closet that are too small for me now. You can have those. You can keep the shirt, too, I have about a dozen of the same kind.”

You brightened, “Thank you, so much. I mean, seriously, you’re like an angel or something.” He froze, blush spreading faintly across his cheeks, “Not an angel” he muttered softly, “but you’re welcome.”

a/n: ok i’m ngl, the other night when i couldn’t sleep, i wrote this on my notes app and it kind of got away from me.. do you guys think i should continue this or naw?

shoutout to @asknit for editing my late night ramblings 🙏

the dividers were made by @aquazero !!

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Cat Distribution System

Part 1 | AO3 | *This is a story told in scenes and can be read in any order though is listed in chronological order on the masterlist.

A jaw-cracking yawn split your face. You were lying on the couch in the living room waiting for the sun to rise. It had been a late night at work. You had to stay later than normal for the scheduled deep cleaning. The clock showed 6:27 when you rolled to a stop outside the house you shared with the guys.

You had scheduled yourself off tonight, knowing you would need the time to recover. Today’s goal would be to stay awake for as long as possible. Scrolling through your apps, eyes bleary you hear a sound from further in the house that you aren’t familiar with. Sitting up you find a fresh-faced bleach blonde clicking down the hall in clubbing heels.

Vaguely you remember Kyle mentioning that he would be going out with some friends last night.

“Oh!” The blonde stops short at seeing you. Probably the bags under your eyes making you look like a zombie.

Curiosity satisfied, you shift to lay back down.

“When Kyle mentioned he was in a polyamorous relationship I didn’t realize that included with a,” her lip curled up and away from her teeth as she bit into the word like a rotten peach, “woman.”

Did this bitch just…?

“And when Kyle mentioned he was going out to get his dick wet he didn’t mention it would include dragging a mannequin home.” You glare up at her from the back of the couch.

Johnny appears from the kitchen, muscles on full display as he scratches at his chest under his sleeveless workout shirt. Blondie’s gaze raked up and down Johnny’s form appreciatively.

Now you weren’t a jealous person but if you could hurl yourself over the furniture before Johnny caught you would have thrown her out of the house yourself.

“How copy?”

Bless that man and his instant understanding of the tension in the air like nitroglycerin on a bumpy road. He crossed the room and settled in behind you on the couch, placing a kiss on your head.

“Fine. The trash was just taking itself out.”

The blonde’s mouth popped open as she gaped at you.

“No one likes day-old fish, now out,” you flick your fingers to the door.

She stamps her foot and makes a noise of shock.

“How did someone like you,” nasty emphasis on the word you, “End up dating men like him and Kyle?”

Johnny tensed, ready to fight your battles.

“You ever hear of the cat distribution system? Well, sometimes it assigns things other than cats, like me. I got assigned to five of the hottest military men in the county and you?” Dragging your eyes from her toes peeping through with chipped polish to the dark roots coming through on the top of her head, “Wouldn’t get picked even as the last bitch at the shelter.”

With no good rebuttal to that, because there really wasn’t one, the blonde saw herself off and slammed the door behind her.

Turning you find Johnny, slack-jawed staring at you.

“What?” You ask him, concerned.

“I didn’t know you had it in you bonnie.”

“To be a bitch? Course I can. I also haven’t slept in rolling up on twenty-four hours so that doesn’t help.”

He pops both hands onto your cheeks and gives you a kiss that leaves you blinking back into reality by the time it is done.

“Do you have a degradation kink I didn’t know about Johnny?”

“Yes.” This reply comes from Kyle.

He looks no worse for wear after his night with the bitch you threw out. He looked remarkably put together for someone who had a nighttime visitor actually, with hair laid down nice, a maroon shirt, and dark wash jeans.

“Ah fuck off Garrick!” Johnny snapped.

“Where did your last girlfriend go, Kyle? I really liked her!” You whine as you lean back into Johnny.

“France.”

“Well, can’t you convince her to come back and join the polyq? I’d happily sleep with her. Your one-night stands are not nice to me.”

Johnny tugged on your earlobe.

“I’ve got dibs next bonnie.”

“I know you do. All I’m saying is I don’t think I’d need to be ovulating to let her peg me.”

Kyle barked out a laugh as Johnny dropped a smiling kiss to the top of your head.

Johnny murmured his love for you into your hair. Kyle crossed the room to drop a kiss on your lips.

“I love you, sweet girl. I’ll reach out and let her know you’re interested.”

“You don’t need to do that but at least stop bringing home dates that don’t believe you’re polyamorous maybe?”

Johnny piped up here, “Yeah Kyle, maybe you should start kissing any of us before you leave with a girl.”

“You just want more kisses, Johnny,” Kyle teased him.

“Fuck right I do,” he leaned forward.

You can’t help but smile as you watch Kyle and Johnny kiss. They love each other, and they love you, and you love them. This house held so much love you swore it had to have settled into the walls.

Gary appears, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He glances over the kissing men and your relaxing position on Johnny. The weight of his body settling on yours, head resting on your collarbone as his arms wrap around you makes the moment that much sweeter.

You drop a kiss to his forehead, “Morning Gary.”

You get a grumble of sound as a reply.

Movement draws your face back to Kyle.

“I’ve got some errands to run this morning. Can I get a kiss for the road?” His plush lips are quirked in a small smile.

“Of course!” You chirp, the hand closest to him lifting to his face while the other stays resting on Gary’s back.

Kyle leans forward, the hand he uses for balance sliding under the neck of Gary’s shirt.

His kisses taste faintly of Johnny and Gary’s sighs against your body tell you he was appreciating the contact as well.

When Kyle pulls back from the kiss he drops one to your forehead, one to Gary’s hair, and finally one to Johnny before heading for the door.

“So you missed it, Gary, apparently our girl here is interested in getting pegged,” Johnny sits up a bit to lean around and look at Gary.

You slap at Johnny’s thigh.

“You quit that. I said I was interested in getting pegged by Kyle’s last girlfriend, not that I was interested in getting pegged in general.”

Gary pushes up on his hands to stare at you. Unable to bear the interested confusion in his gaze you cover his face with your hands.

“All of you need to stop being mean to me!” But you can’t help but laugh even as you say it.

Masterlist | Fallen Angel Masterlist

@lilynotdilly

[nubiawrites]

chapter five

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. oral (giving and receiving). alcohol. talks of safe sex.

Summary: Aaron and Iriye have a nightcap, tensions being released as new connections are formed.

Notes: Everyone say thank you to GQ and Aaron's sleeve. I told you all the next chapter would be worth it. Enjoy and let me know what you think

MASTERLIST

Aaron's fingers drummed steadily against the wheel as he drove Iriye and himself back to his place. The Bluetooth in his card played some Sade as Aaron drove them in comfortable silence. 

This was not Iriye's first one-night stand, but it was with someone like Aaron—a collaborator, an artist, an actor. As they inched closer to his place, her anxiety got the best of her.

"I've never done this before," Iriye blurted out. Aaron had parked the car in the parking garage of his apartment, and he paused.

"Like had sex?" Aaron raised both eyebrows, and Iriye swatted his arm. 

"I've had sex. Trust me," Iriye sighed. "I don't sleep with talent. I never have,"

"Okay," He nodded.

"Because I respect you. And I love my job. And I love this project. And I don't make this a habit," Iriye rambled.

Aaron just smirked as she kept talking, seeing the defenses fall. She was always so sharp and on it, and he liked that, but this made her more endearing.

"What are you thinking?" Iriye asked. "Because if it is and I'm crazy, I will happily Uber home, and we can just—" He cut her off by leaning in for a kiss. The movement took her aback, but she ultimately relaxed into the gentle and sweet kiss. 

Iriye pulled back once fully relaxed and hummed, her eyes opening to look at Aaron's face. 

"Well, if you're wondering what I'm thinking, I don't care if you've never done this or have done this a million times," Aaron stated. "As Nelly and many other women I know would say, you're a grown-ass woman,"

"Please say that again. I need to hear it with your accent and all," Iriye teased. Aaron rolled his eyes before leaning in. 

"Grown-ass woman," Aaron repeated, and Iriye giggled. "Let's just see what happens. No pressure,"

Iriye nodded, and Aaron got out of the car. Iriye would do the same when he rushed to her side to open the door, holding his hand out for her. She took it and got out of the car.

"Thank you," Iriye said. Locking up his car, his hand never left hers as he guided her inside the apartment building.

They entered his apartment, and Aaron let her step inside first. She smiled at the place once he switched on the light, which matched Aaron's energy. 

"Your place is nice. Very homey," She moved to sit on the couch.

“Thank you,” He said before stepping into the kitchen. “You want anything?”

“I’ll have whatever you are having,” Iriye said, looking around at the record collections under the TV. She saw a few books stacked neatly on his coffee table, her eyes peeping at a familiar title. She smiled to herself when Aaron came back with two glasses.

“My whiskey sours may not be as great as yours,” he said, placing the glass in her hand. She chuckled. 

“I’ll be the judge,” Iriye sipped the drink and hummed. “Just a little bit more lemon,” She moved to pull the book on the top of his stack. “How are you liking the Last Days of Ptolemy Grey,” 

“Interestingly enough, I like it. I figured I would read it first before watching. Someone has great taste in literature,” Aaron tilted his head towards her.

“I mean, I do know some things about writing,” Iriye shrugged playfully. Turning to him, she moved to make herself more comfortable but realized her boots were still on. She was about to reach down and take them off, not wanting to seem like she didn’t have any home training.

"I got you,"  Aaron said, his British accent with that deep timber of a voice. Her stomach clenched deliciously, trying to be demure. He moved to lift her legs into his lap. “May I?” Iriye was too distracted by how smooth he was, nodding her head along.

Aaron kept his eyes on her before unzipping the first boot, his thumb smoothing over the revealed skin along the way. Iriye let out a soft breath, feeling him pull the boot off. He did the other, and she kept her legs over his lap.

“Was that an excuse to keep me close?” Iriye raised a brow at him, Aaron rubbing her legs.

“Would that be so bad? To want you close, love,” Aaron questioned.

“No,” Iriye felt his hand moved to her cheek. 

“Come here,” Aaron stated, pulling her closer by her chin. She leaned in and kissed him softly for a moment. Getting reacquainted with the soft, full lips on hers, the feel of his trimmed mustache near her face. When she pulled back, he leaned his head against hers. “I’m taking this however you want to,”

“That might be the hottest thing I ever heard,” Iriye admitted, pulling him close again and kissing him. His hand moved to stroke her legs as they were on his lap. She hummed, his fingertips sending shivers up her spine. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, her hands moving to his neck and cheek. His tongue looked for permission to lick into her mouth, and she gave it to him gladly.

They continued kissing that way, tongues clashing as they moved in sync. Aaron pulled away, moving his hands to pull her closer. But Iriye stopped him, lying back on the couch.

“You look so good like this,” Aaron stated.

“I’m still in my clothes,” Iriye stated.

“Imagine what you would look like splayed here without them,” His words made her press her legs together. 

“Then get me out of them,” With those words, Aaron advanced on her, legs falling apart to fit his hips against hers. Her jean dress pushed up some, and she let her hands fall to his neck as she connected their lips again.

Aaron placed one hand by her head, not wanting to settle too much weight on her as they made out. She felt his hand trail to her thigh, and she pressed herself closer to his chest as she arched her back. 

“Aaron,” Iriye moaned against his lips, her clothes feeling too suffocating. He pulled back, and his hand went to the zipper on the front of her dress, pulling it down till the dark brown bra she wore came into view. Iriye sat up to shimmy out of her sleeves, sitting confidently as she felt Aaron’s eyes take her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron’s eyes trailed over her breast. 

“I know,” Iriye giggled. She had soft curves from pilates, and her body had changed over the years, but under his eyes, she felt even sexier. “Your turn,” She pulled at his black shirt. Aaron smirked before lifting his shirt. Iriye was trying to stop herself from watching her eyes pop out at his muscular body. His broad chest, the tiny speckle of hair leading into the dark corduroy pants he wore. It didn’t help his left arm was covered in tattoos, and Iriye needed to know how it would look around her neck in the worst way.

Aaron moved to lean down and kiss her as he pulled her closer. Her hand went between them, and she found the button to his pants. He pulled back to give her some space, her fingers quick to get the button off and his zipper down, her hand brushing against his length through his boxer briefs.

“Shit,” Aaron breathed, a grin appearing on Iriye’s face. Hearing him curse was all she needed. She brushed her hand against him again, feeling his length twitch a little. 

“You want me to touch you?” Iriye teased. Aaron kissed her again, Iriye moaning softly into his mouth. She teased her hand against him, and he pressed into it.

“Fuck yes,” Aaron stated, his resolve slowly slipping. Iriye tried to wiggle her hands into his pants, but she needed them out of the way. Aaron moved off the couch to remove his pants, the bulge even more apparent in his briefs. Before she could even marvel at it more, his hands were on her dress, pulling it down her body.

Aaron groaned as he saw how her boyshorts had a wet spot, a telltale sign of how turned on Iriye was for him. He was about to take them off when Iriye stopped him. 

“Last time, it was about me. This time, it’s about you,” Iriye stated. “Do you have condoms?”

As much as Aaron was a giver, a woman being straightforward and dominant with him was attractive. It made him want to just bend Iriye over and fuck her into the couch. But patience was key. So was protection.

“Let me go check,” Aaron got up, kissing her deeply and letting his tongue slide into her mouth, needing to after taking her whole body in. She let her nails drag against his neck, and he groaned before moving away and heading towards a door.

Iriye laid back against the couch, trying her best not to let her hand slip down between her legs and keep working herself up. But the way her clit throbbed in anticipation, she rubbed her legs together to try and calm herself down, only making it worse.

After a few minutes, she heard Aaron come back into the living room, sitting up at the frown on his face.

“I don’t have any…” Aaron rubbed his hand over his chin.

“None,” Iriye asked again.

“None,” 

Aaron gauged her face for her reaction, seeing her chuckle. 

“I don’t know if I should be happy you have none or nervous because you used them up,” Iriye shook her head. A grin went to Aaron’s face.

“I’ve been busy with work. Plus, when it comes to matters of the heart, it takes me a bit to open up,” He said as he moved to sit by her. Iriye leaned into his side. “I can go run for some,”

“It’s too late to be driving around for protection,” Iriye scratched at her scalp softly. “Honestly, maybe this is just what we needed. Let us think straight for a minute,” She said.

“Right,” Aaron agreed, even if he was looking at her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, and she let her hands slip to his neck. “There are other things we can do that don’t need condoms if you want to,”

Iriye purred at the temptation. “And what’s that?” She teased. Aaron’s hands moved to cup her ass with one big hand, and the other slipped between her legs. 

“Open up for me,” Aaron stated, and Iriye slipped her legs open as he asked. He let his hand tease the hem of her panties. 

“I was trying to take care of you first,” Iriye moaned as she felt him toying with her panties. 

“There’s this thing called doing it simultaneously,” Aaron said cheekily, and Iriye gasped at him, slapping his chest playfully. “Some even say the same time or mutual,” Iriye grasped him through his boxer briefs, and he groaned. “Shit,”

“What were you saying?” Iriye asked as she got a hold of his length and stroked him. She felt his head go on her shoulder, and then she was pushed back onto the couch. 

Aaron crawled over her till he was right between her legs, and she kept her eyes on him as she felt him finally slip his hand into her panties, his middle finger already slipping past her folds and her back arching into his hand. 

“That’s it,” Aaron moaned, slipping the finger to press against her entrance before he dipped it in, Iriye rolling her hips toward his hand. “Oh god, Aaron,” Iriye whined. She felt him thrust a single digit into her a few more times, going slow as her body worked itself up. She was getting even wetter as he watched her face, moving to kiss him deeply.

"I wanted to get you off," Iriye gasped against his lips, his finger sinking into the fleshy spot inside of her.

“Trust me, watching you get off turns me on,” He moved to kiss down the side of her neck. Those words went straight to her core, gasping as she felt him pressing a second finger inside of her, and she tried her best to recover. She loved how his fingers and hands were so big, remembering how he gripped her ass.

Iriye needed a bit more control, so she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs and was met with the leaking head of his length. She let her hand wrap around him, stroking him slowly, trying to keep up with the rhythm he was setting inside of her. She stroked her hand up upward towards the head, feeling a vein against her palm, and he groaned, his fingers stopping. Iriye giggled, seeing Aaron, who was very calm and collected, lose his cool.

“You good?” Iriye smirked. Aaron’s eyes grew darker, groaning into her mouth as he kissed her deeply. “Please Aaron… I wanna make you come,” She had ground her way to bliss, and god damn it, she needed to see what he looked like when he came. He heard her pleading and pulled his fingers out of her. 

“Afterwards, I’m tasting you,” Aaron stated matter-of-factly. “I’m clean. I can show you,” 

“Aaron…” Iriye giggled as she pushed his chest so she could get up. She moved to her knees, taking the pillow he handed her. She got herself adjusted and caught sight of him licking his fingers that had been inside of her. So, of course, she leaned up to kiss him, moaning as she tasted herself on his lips.

Iriye adjusted herself until she was comfortable, her hands going to his boxer briefs and pulling them down till his length popped up, her seeing the heavy length twitch against his stomach. She leaned forward and licked the tip, hearing the breathy moan that left his mouth as she teased the tip.

Iriye wouldn’t say she was a dick-sucking enthusiast for just anyone. She had to be comfortable with the person before she would show them how much she loved sucking dick. And it should have freaked her out that she hadn’t let Aaron take her on a proper date before she was on her knees, teasing the tip and tasting the pre cum his tip pushed out. 

Iriye played with the tip, realizing Aaron was very sensitive there quickly. She allowed herself to take the tip further into her mouth, sucking softly as she didn’t want the moment to end. There was a sweetness to his taste, and she hummed as she bobbed her head on his length.

“Fuck,” Aaron breathed, feeling her beginning to slide deeper. He knew he was slightly above average, but he didn’t want to hurt Iriye even then. His hands squeezed the couch respectfully, wishing he could grip her head. But he groaned as Iriye pulled from the tip, him looking down at her eyes as one hand focused on the tips as she began to mouth at the sides, tongue licking him like a popsicle that she wanted to melt. He saw that sparkle in her eyes as she licked back up his length. He let his hands move to the goddess locs, carefully grabbing some in his hand and guiding her when she took his length back in her mouth. He felt her trying to tease the tip again, and he tightened on her hair, not wanting to pull too hard.  

Iriye’s eyes met his, preening at how Aaron was looking. 

“Take that cock deeper, Iriye,” Aaron spoke, that South London boy coming out. She bobbed her head again, working him deeper and using her hand to stroke whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She moaned around him, feeling his length twitch at the sensations. “Fuck, love,” He said. “You look so good sucking my cock,” He breathed, his eyes focused on her.

Iriye could feel her panties soaking through as she continued sucking Aaron’s dick. Hearing him groan and moan, his words turned her on as she worked herself up to relax around his length. She let the tip hit the back of her throat some, finding when she gagged on his length, his hips thrust up as he wanted to get deeper. She gagged a few more times, the gaps and moans coming out more, his fingers tightening and flexing in her hair.

Iriye pulled back, a string of saliva attaching to her lip from his length. She stroked him, looking up into Aaron’s eyes.

“Don’t hold back. Take what you want from me,” She playfully winked before moving to suck his length back in, gagging twice around his length before she swallowed him, sucking on him. Aaron let off grunts and whines as he thrusts up into her mouth a few times, gasps coming with every movement until she felt the warm cum spill down her throat. As much as she wanted to choke on his cock, Aaron pulled up, his length twitching and coming a little on her lips as she stroked him. 

“Iriye,” He moaned as she attempted to clean off the tip of his cock, Aaron still sensitive. She let her tongue out, hoping to catch some more spurts of cum on her lips before she swallowed.

Aaron watched on as the woman who was so confident and could command a room swallowed his cum, feeling so satisfied as she did so. It was so fucking nasty and hot.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Aaron breathed before kissing her, licking into her mouth to catch a taste of her and his cum on her tongue.

Iriye moaned into the kiss, whining as she was so turned on for more. 

“Come up here,” Iriye felt him manhandle her up off her knees and turn her to suit up against the couch. She couldn’t help but giggle as Aaron had to push the coffee table back across the floor so he would have more room on the ground. “Something funny?”

“Not at all,” Iriye said, the man a giant in his home. He grinned up at her before kissing the inside of her right thigh, playfully biting at her. She let out a moan. He kissed down till he made it to her center. He then moved onto the next thigh, kissing up till he pulled back, his hands tucked into her panties.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna need these,” Aaron chuckled, moving to pull them off. Iriye’s most delicate parts of herself were revealed, and she moved to lift her legs so she could take her socks off. 

“I’m not gonna need these either,” She teased. But she quickly shut up as Aaron sniffed her panties.

“You smell so good,” Aaron chuckled, throwing her panties into his pants. Iriye figured she wasn’t getting them back, and honestly, she wasn’t mad at it. Panties were replaceable, but Aaron smelling hers was not.

Iriye let Aaron hook his hands under the back of her knees, propping her open for him like a feast.

“Let me know what feels good,” Aaron said as he looked at her. Iriye nodded. He kept her eyes on her as he swiped his tongue slowly through her lower lips, collecting the sweet juices, a moan rolling out of her.  He repeated the motion a few more times, every swipe causing her back to arch and her moans to float in the air, but it wasn’t enough.

“Aaron,” She whined softly. “I need more,” He heard her words, and she felt the two fingers he used inside of her teasing her slit. She pressed her hips down, wanting to slide onto them, but Aaron held her thighs back.

“I let you have your fun. Now let me have mine, sweetheart,” Aaron spoke. She saw his smile and let him get away with talking to her like that. His fingers slipped into her pussy, and she arched her back, almost shutting her legs around him. “Nah, keep them open for me,” He said. 

Iriye was holding them, but Aaron guided one leg to his shoulder and then the other, caging him in. His fingers began searching for that fleshy spot inside of her; Iriye whined as she felt him hitting spots along the way.

“Oh my god,” Iriye moaned as she realized he wasn’t going to stop, especially as he found her g spot again. She rolled her hips against his fingers, hearing how wet and gushy he was making her pussy for him.

“That feels good to you, Iriye,” Aaron asked, his lips kissing her thighs. Her moans were enough answers for him, the tiny twitches in her thighs. But he knew she needed more. “Tell me, baby,”

“Your mouth,” She cried. “I need your mouth… this is not enough to make me come… please,” She said between breathy moans and gasps.

Aaron obliged her, his lips sealing around her swollen clit and sucking it to find the proper pressure. It took him a few moments to try to see what Iriye wanted. What sent her hips surging to his face or gave him nothing, but he loved discovering a lover’s body.

“Oh shit,” Iriye knew when she cursed during sex, something was being done right. She moved to look down, seeing his lips sucking her clit as his fingers rubbed a path inside of her. She moved to let her hands run over his scalp, her nails dragging up and down his scalp.

“Aaron,” She cried, his name a mantra she would repeat if it meant he never stopped. She felt him stop sucking her clit before she caught a peek of his tongue beginning to flick at her clit; short cries left her body as he moved his tongue with precision, almost pornstar levels even. “Oh fuck!” She whined, more words falling out as he moved his fingers in tandem with his tongue. She would gladly pay the toll if this were payback for the teasing.

Iriye continued to roll her hips toward his hand as he fucked her with his fingers, tongue flicking and sucking at her clit. He pulled back for a moment.

“You’re gonna come for me?” He asked her, almost a plea for her. She looked into the darkening hazel eyes and nodded. 

“I will! I will!” She wanted to scream. She would do anything for him.

“Good,” Aaron moved his to flick and suck at her clit as his fingers moved to usher her orgasm forward. At first, it felt like a tug-o-war, a push and pull for it to come forward. She let herself fall into it, the first crescendo warning her of what was to come, quite literally. She threw her head back before focusing on him, licking her lips and whining out as another thrust of his fingers and the gates flooded. Short cries became gasps and moans as her orgasm rushed in, and she came, her juices flowing down her pussy, and she felt her walls sporadically tightening around Aaron. 

Instead of letting her enjoy the fall, Aaron continued to work her through it, seeing how good she tasted and how she reacted to being overstimulated. It was almost too much as he sucked her clit, rubbing at her g-spot. She wanted to close her legs, but Aaron had her spread and locked in with his shoulders.

Iriye whined as he prolonged her orgasm, her nails scratching at his bare shoulders until she tapped him.

“Aaron,” She whined, feeling him finally let up off of her clit, and she felt him work her down with his fingers, her juices sliding down his fingers and wrist. She sighed as she slumped against the couch, his fingers sliding out of her. Aaron trailed his hand, wet with her juices, up her body until he teased her lips with them. She grinned and opened her mouth, letting him slide them in so she could suck her juices off of him, mimicking how she suckled his dick before. 

Aaron straightened up, their lips connected passionately as Iriye let her hands wrap around his neck, him leaning into her. She giggled as she could feel him and her pussy clenched, 

“How you feel, love?” Aaron asked her, pushing one of her goddess locs behind her ear.

“Good,” Iriye hated that she had no words except that, but he gave her the feeling. She couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. 

“You sure you’re a writer cause good,” Iriye swiped at Aaron’s face. 

“You play too much. To think I wanted to give you morning head,” Iriye leaned back, and he followed her, his head leaving between her clothed breast.

“You want to give me morning head?” Aaron questioned her.

“I did, but that’s only if we head to sleep,” Iriye challenged him. Aaron moved to hoist her in his arms, Iriye giggling as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, letting him carry her towards his room.

After cleaning themselves up in his bathroom, Iriye was currently in one of his shirts; her five foot eight stature and curvy waist had his shirt hitting right at the top of her thighs and giving a little peek at the bottom of her ass. She forgone her underwear as Aaron repeated that he wouldn’t give them back. She threatened to take his underwear but knew if she took them off of him again, the snake between his legs would not be going to bed. Tangled up in each other arms in his bed, both talking about whatever came to mind

“I honestly haven’t had a reason to need condoms,” Aaron mentioned, Iriye looking up at him. 

“Really?” Iriye said. “I would think it was being thrown at you,”

“It is,” Aaron admitted, and Iriye raised a brow. “But that’s not me,” He stated honestly.  Iriye propped herself up on his chest some. 

“Pussy being thrown at you doesn’t suit you,” Iriye teased, hoping a red flag popped up. Because he was so unreal. “You have an arm tattoo, Jamaican, and a Gemini. You could have anyone dropping the draws with just one look,” Iriye joked, and Aaron looked at her.

“I could have anyone, but at the end of the day, I want someone who wants me. Who chooses me. Not just anyone,” Aaron stated. There was a truth and a depth there that she loved seeing. Iriye leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“I’m sure you’ll find that,” Iriye yawned. 

“What are you looking for?” Aaron asked her. She thought about it for a moment. 

“Someone who can love my ugly parts,” Iriye explained. “Someone who can be around me not only during the good times but the bad times,” 

“Well, I hope you get that,” Aaron stated, his hand rubbing her back some. They lay in comfortable silence, Iriye hoping that what he said was true. That she would ge tit. She hoped for a second… she would have it with Aaron. @wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[doujinshigirlai]

Closer than ever <3

It's been a while 😭🫶🏻✨

Sypnosis: random drabble about enha confessing to y/n (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Pairing: ot7!enhypen x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers

Warnings: none!!!

Enjoy my pookies 🫶🏻✨💞

⋋⁠✿Lee Heeseung✿⁠⋌ You’re standing by the vending machine in the office break room, staring blankly at the rows of snacks, your mind too cluttered to decide on anything. The soft hum of the machine is drowned out by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

“You’ve been eyeing that granola bar for the last two minutes. Is it really that good?”

You turn around to see Heeseung, his signature playful grin already tugging at his lips. You’ve known him for a few months now—he joined your department not long ago. Though your conversations have mostly been surface-level, there’s something about his relaxed confidence that always gets under your skin.

“It’s not about the granola bar,” you reply with a sigh, pressing the button for a random snack. “I’m just... distracted.”

Heeseung tilts his head, his eyes softening. “Work stress?”

“Among other things,” you admit, clutching the snack as if it’s a lifeline. You’re not sure why, but you feel a strange urge to confide in him, even though you’ve barely scratched the surface of who he is.

“Here,” he says, leaning against the vending machine. “I’ll trade you five minutes of bad jokes for a smile. Deal?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You really think your jokes are that good?”

He smirks. “I think I can make you laugh. And I’m not leaving until I do.”

True to his word, Heeseung starts spouting the cheesiest, most ridiculous puns you’ve ever heard. It’s impossible not to crack a smile, and by the end of his impromptu comedy routine, you’re laughing so hard you nearly forget why you were stressed in the first place.

“See?” he says, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Mission accomplished.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest lingers. “Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re not the worst company.”

“Wow,” he teases, pretending to clutch his heart. “The highest praise I’ve ever received.”

From that day on, Heeseung seems to pop up everywhere—whether it’s during lunch breaks or late nights at the office. The more you talk, the more you realize how easy it is to be around him. He has this uncanny ability to make you forget your worries, to make you feel seen.

One evening, after yet another long day, he walks you to your car. The cool breeze carries the faint scent of his cologne, and for a moment, the world feels a little less heavy.

“You know,” he says softly, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I never thought I’d look forward to work so much... until I met you.”

You freeze, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. His usual teasing tone is gone, replaced by something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Heeseung—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, his gaze meeting yours. “You make everything better. And I think... I think I want to be the person who does that for you, too.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. For once, you’re at a loss for words, but the way he looks at you—with so much hope and vulnerability—tells you all you need to know.

So you take a step closer, letting your walls crumble just a little. “You already do.”

His smile is slow, genuine, and when he takes your hand in his, it feels like the start of something you never saw coming—but everything you’ve been waiting for.

Rest of the members under the cut ✨✨✨

⋋⁠✿Park Jongseong✿⁠⋌ It starts on an ordinary Tuesday, with you standing in line at the campus coffee shop. The line is slow, and the cold draft from the door doesn’t help your mood. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, checking the time. You’re already running late.

“I’d suggest the caramel latte,” a smooth voice says behind you. You turn to see Jay, his dark eyes studying the menu as if he hasn’t memorized it already.

You know him in passing—a friend of a friend, someone who’s always in the background of your social circle but never quite in your orbit. He’s polite, even charming, but he’s always been... distant.

“I don’t think caramel’s going to fix my morning,” you reply with a sigh, crossing your arms.

Jay glances down at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No, but caffeine might.”

The barista finally calls your turn, and as you step up to order, Jay leans casually against the counter beside you. You don’t know why, but his presence is oddly calming.

“You’re not going to cut me in line, are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Relax,” he says, his tone amused. “I’m just here to keep you company.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. After you order, Jay steps forward, surprising you by paying for your drink before you can protest.

“Jay—”

“Consider it my good deed of the day,” he says, his smirk softening into something almost kind. “You look like you could use one.”

You don’t have time to argue, nor do you have time to dwell on it. But from that day on, Jay seems to be everywhere. In the library when you’re cramming for exams. At the park when you’re trying to clear your head. Always there with a witty remark or a quiet offer of help.

At first, it’s annoying. Then it’s comforting. And somewhere along the way, you stop questioning it.

One night, after an exhausting week, you find yourself sitting with Jay on a park bench, sipping on hot cocoa he insisted you needed. The stars are out, the air crisp, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this... at peace.

“You’re different than I thought,” you admit, breaking the silence.

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What’d you think I was like?”

“Arrogant. Unapproachable. Too perfect to be real.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound that makes your chest tighten. “And now?”

You shrug, looking away. “Still too perfect, but... I guess I was wrong about the rest.”

When you glance back, Jay is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“You don’t realize how often I’ve thought the same about you,” he says quietly.

Your breath catches. “What do you mean?”

He leans closer, the space between you shrinking. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to get closer to you. And I’m tired of waiting.”

Before you can process his words, he closes the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a question. Your heart races, your hands instinctively gripping the edges of your coat, but when you feel the warmth of his hand against your cheek, the world around you fades.

It’s Jay who pulls back first, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. “Too perfect now?” he murmurs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No. Just... perfect enough.”

And as he takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, you realize you don’t need coffee, or cocoa, or anything else to fix your day. Because for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.

⋋⁠✿Sim Jaeyun✿⁠⋌ The late summer evening breeze sweeps through the campus courtyard as you balance a stack of books in your arms, cursing yourself for not grabbing a bag. You’re halfway across when a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

“Need some help there?”

You turn to see Jake, his golden hair catching the fading sunlight. He’s leaning casually against a nearby bench, his ever-present hoodie slung over one shoulder. You know Jake well enough to say hello in passing—your mutual friends ensure that your paths cross more often than not—but your interactions have always been polite, nothing more.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, adjusting the books.

Jake raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “You sure about that?”

Before you can respond, he’s already stepping forward, taking the top half of the stack from your arms. His fingers graze yours briefly, and the contact sends a jolt through you that you quickly dismiss.

“Really, I was fine,” you insist, trailing after him as he starts walking toward the library.

“Clearly,” he teases, glancing over his shoulder. “You looked totally at ease, struggling not to drop an entire semester’s worth of reading.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite to it. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Didn’t need to,” Jake replies smoothly.

The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the tension between you both oddly palpable. It’s not the first time Jake’s gone out of his way to help you, but something about this moment feels different—like the weight of unspoken words is pressing down on the air around you.

When you reach the library, Jake sets the books down on a nearby table, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “There. Crisis averted.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

Jake doesn’t move, his eyes studying you like he’s debating something. Finally, he takes a step closer, the playfulness in his expression replaced by something more serious.

“You know,” he begins, his voice lower now, “you’re really bad at asking for help.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the way your heart is suddenly racing. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”

“It’s my business,” Jake says, his tone firmer now, “because I care about you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmistakable. Your breath catches, and you’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you—like he’s been holding this in for far too long—or the fact that your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest.

“Jake...” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No, let me say this,” he insists, his voice softening. “I know we’re not close. I know I’m just that guy you see in passing, the one who cracks jokes and never seems to take anything seriously. But with you... it’s different. You make me want to be better. You make me feel like I can be more.”

You’re frozen in place, your mind racing as you try to process the sheer weight of his confession.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself I’m fine just watching from a distance,” he continues, his voice almost breaking.

“But I’m not. I’m not fine, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

The tension between you is electric, the air so thick with emotion that it’s almost suffocating. Jake takes another step closer, his hand hovering near yours, as if he’s waiting for permission to close the gap.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “I just... I needed you to know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “Jake, I—”

But before you can finish, the librarian’s voice cuts through the air. “Excuse me, but this is a quiet zone.”

The moment shatters, and Jake pulls back slightly, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Guess we’re causing a scene,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Yeah, we are.”

Jake looks at you for a long moment, his eyes still filled with unspoken words. “I meant what I said,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. Then, with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your heart in your throat and your mind spinning.

And as you watch him disappear into the stacks, you realize that whatever this is—whatever it could be—you’re not ready to let it slip through your fingers.

⋋⁠✿Park Sunghoon⁠✿⁠⋌ It’s late, and the campus quad is eerily quiet except for the sound of your boots crunching against the frosty grass. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, regretting your decision to stay in the library until closing. The dim glow of the streetlights casts long shadows, and you quicken your pace.

"Walking alone this late?” a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

You turn sharply, heart skipping a beat, only to see Sunghoon leaning casually against a nearby lamppost. His breath forms a faint mist in the cold air, and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his black coat.

“Sunghoon?” you say, your voice tinged with surprise.

He straightens up, falling into step beside you. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You’ve known Sunghoon for a while now, mostly through shared classes and mutual friends. He’s always been polite, reserved even—though his quiet confidence and striking looks have earned him more than a few admirers. Still, your interactions have always been brief, nothing that would explain why he’s here now.

“What are you doing out so late?” you ask, glancing at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he counters, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to walk around alone at night?".

You roll your eyes. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“Maybe,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “But now you don’t have to.”

The two of you walk in silence for a while, the tension between you humming like a live wire. There’s something about the way Sunghoon moves—so self-assured yet unassuming—that makes it hard to look away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you say after a while.

“Do what?”

“Play the hero,” you reply, glancing at him.

He stops walking, and you’re forced to stop too, turning to face him. His expression is unreadable, but his dark eyes hold yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“You think I’m doing this to play the hero?” he asks, his voice low, almost dangerous.

You hesitate, suddenly unsure of yourself. “I don’t know. Aren’t you?”

Sunghoon takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His presence is overwhelming, and you find yourself rooted to the spot.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “because I wanted to see you. Because every time I see you, it’s harder to walk away. And I’m done pretending that it’s not.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave.

“Sunghoon...” you start, but he shakes his head, silencing you.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

You don’t say anything, your mind racing, your heart pounding. And then, instead of speaking, you step closer, bridging the gap between you.

That’s all the confirmation he needs. Sunghoon leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both soft and electrifying, like the first rush of a winter storm. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your chilled skin, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air.

You smile, your heart still racing. “What took you so long?”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with a mixture of relief and something deeper. “I guess I needed to know you wouldn’t push me away.”

You shake your head, your smile widening. “Not a chance.”

And as the two of you stand there under the dim streetlight, the frost on the grass glittering around you, it feels like the start of something neither of you can—or want to—turn back from.

⋋⁠✿Kim Sunoo⁠✿⁠⋌ The campus is quiet, the kind of stillness that feels unnatural. You’ve been in the library for hours, buried in notes and textbooks, your mind drifting in and out of focus. It’s been a long day, and you’re ready to head home, but as you step out of the building into the evening chill, you’re met with an unexpected sight—Sunoo, sitting on a bench under the dim light of a streetlamp, his eyes trained on the starless sky.

You stop in your tracks, unsure if you should interrupt him. You’ve never been particularly close, and yet, for some reason, you always find yourself caught in his orbit. He’s always been kind, that easy smile never far from his lips, but there’s something about him that feels distant—a warmth that’s almost unreachable.

He notices you standing there, and his expression shifts, that usual playful grin softening.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, your voice breaking the silence.

Sunoo looks up, his gaze locking with yours. “More like couldn’t stop thinking,” he replies, his voice quieter than usual.

You hesitate, moving closer to the bench. “About what?”

Sunoo shifts to make room, patting the spot next to him. You sit down, careful not to let your shoulder brush his, though it feels almost impossible not to.

“It’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

You turn to face him, the tension between you thickening. You know he’s been quieter lately, as if something is weighing on his mind. There’s a softness to him now, an unspoken vulnerability that draws you in even more.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you offer gently.

Sunoo smiles faintly, shaking his head. “No, I think... I think it’s time I said it.”

You wait, your heart beginning to race as he looks down, as if trying to find the right words. His usual confidence is replaced by uncertainty, and it’s unsettling to see him like this.

“I’ve been holding back,” he starts slowly, “because I didn’t want to make things complicated. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You swallow, unsure if you want to hear what’s coming next. The air feels charged, like something big is about to happen, but you're unsure if you're ready to face it.

“I think I’ve liked you for longer than I realized,” Sunoo confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean. Scared of ruining whatever we have.”

Your breath hitches, the words sinking in deeper than you expected. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. It’s almost too much to process. Sunoo, always the cheerful and outgoing one, the guy who can make anyone laugh, is standing there—vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, looking at you earnestly. “I just... needed you to know.”

The weight of his confession presses down on you, and you can feel the tension between you like a palpable force. His eyes are wide, searching yours for a reaction, and for the first time, you realize how much you’ve been holding back as well.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

Sunoo nods, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you.”

You both sit in silence, the night growing colder around you, but you don’t move. The quiet between you now feels comfortable, as though you’ve just crossed an invisible line that neither of you can go back from.

Finally, Sunoo stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you around,” he says, his usual carefree tone returning, but there’s still a tenderness in his eyes.

You nod, watching him walk away, your heart a tangled mess of emotions. But as the silence settles in once more, you realize that his confession has changed something between you. It’s not just the words; it’s the way you feel the truth of them, how everything suddenly feels clearer, even if it’s still uncertain "I like you too!!!", you shout. He turns, grinning widely and genuinely.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of something that neither of you are ready to define yet—but both of you know will be impossible to forget.

⋋⁠✿Yang Jungwon⁠✿⁠⋌ The early morning sun casts a soft golden light across the campus as you step out of the dorm, a cup of coffee in hand to start your day. The campus is quieter than usual, the early risers having already started their routines, and the air is crisp with the promise of a new day.

As you make your way toward the main building, you spot Jungwon sitting on one of the benches by the fountain. The sunlight catches in his hair, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and for a moment, he seems completely absorbed in the world around him. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket, and his gaze is focused on the morning sky, his features soft and contemplative.

You pause for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt his peace, but then you find yourself walking toward him anyway.

"Jungwon?" You call out, voice hesitant

He blinks, looking up with a slight surprise before his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. “Hey, you’re up early,” he says, his voice still carrying the remnants of sleepiness but also warmth.

You offer a small smile in return, shrugging. “Yeah, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I thought I’d grab some coffee before the rush.”

“Smart choice,” he says, patting the space beside him on the bench. “Want to sit for a bit?”

You sit down beside him, wrapping your hands around the warmth of your coffee cup. There’s a calmness in the air now, the world slowly waking up around you. And for a moment, you simply sit in silence, the sound of birds chirping and the faint rustle of leaves the only noise.

“You’ve been quiet this morning,” you remark, glancing at Jungwon, who’s still staring off into the distance.

He shifts slightly, as if he’s just now realizing how still he’s been. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot,” he admits, his voice softer than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “About what?”

Jungwon’s gaze drifts to the ground for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. There’s a hesitation there, a vulnerability in his posture that you don’t often see.

“It’s... about us,” he says quietly, his voice carrying an honesty that you’re not used to hearing from him.

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “Us?”

He turns his head slightly to face you, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I should, probably. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but... I think it’s time I do.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Jungwon, who’s always been so composed and in control, now seems different. There’s a vulnerability to him now that makes your heart race.

"I don’t want to make things complicated,” he continues, his voice almost a whisper. “But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way. I think about you all the time, and I just... I need you to know that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. Jungwon has always been the calm and collected one, the friend who makes everyone feel at ease. But this side of him, the side that’s unsure and uncertain, catches you off guard.

You turn to face him, the warmth of your coffee forgotten in your hands. “Jungwon, I—”

Before you can finish, he’s already leaning in, his eyes searching yours for a hint of whether you’re okay with this. There’s no hesitation this time, no second-guessing. Jungwon closes the gap between you, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s soft, barely there, but it holds so much meaning. A confession in the quiet of the morning, the warmth of his lips lingering even after the kiss is over.

When he pulls back, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and he looks at you with wide, uncertain eyes. “I hope that wasn’t too much,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s afraid of pushing you away.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest, and smile softly. “No, it wasn’t. It’s just... I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His expression softens, a genuine smile slowly spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, his voice filled with quiet relief.

You nod, feeling the warmth spreading through your chest. “Really.”

Jungwon lets out a breath of relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this is definitely better than I thought.”

You laugh softly, feeling the weight of the tension between you ease. “I think we’ve both been a little unsure of how to handle this, huh?”

“Yeah,” he admits, chuckling lightly. “But I’m glad it’s out there now.”

And as the two of you sit together on the bench, the sun rises higher in the sky, you both realize that whatever comes next, it’s the start of something new—something neither of you were expecting, but both of you are willing to embrace.

⋋⁠✿Nishimura Riki✿⁠⋌ The morning sun spills through the windows of the campus café as you sit by the large glass wall, the warmth of the light casting a soft glow over your book and coffee. You’ve been coming here a lot lately, needing a quiet escape from the chaos of classes and the constant buzz of campus life.

Today, however, something feels different. You glance up from your book as the door chimes open, and in walks Niki. His usual carefree energy is a little more subdued today, and the way his eyes scan the room before locking on you is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Niki doesn’t usually come to this café in the mornings; he’s more of an afternoon kind of person, where his energy seems boundless. But today, he steps toward your table, hesitating for a moment, like he’s trying to decide whether to say something.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice quieter than usual. You notice the way his eyes avoid yours for a split second, a hint of uncertainty in his usually confident demeanor.

“Of course,” you reply, your heart inexplicably racing. You shift your things aside to make room for him, and he sits across from you, his usual grin missing, replaced by a soft, thoughtful expression.

For a few moments, there’s an awkward silence between you. You’re used to Niki being playful, always cracking jokes, always full of energy, but today, he seems almost... hesitant.

“You okay?” you ask, unable to ignore the change in his vibe.

He looks up at you, his lips curling slightly, but it’s not his usual carefree smile. It’s almost as if he’s considering something deeply before he answers. “Yeah, just thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff?” you raise an eyebrow. “What kind of stuff?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the table as he seems to lose himself in thought again. “Just... everything, I guess. People. Life.” His voice is softer now, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “And you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel the shift in the air. Niki doesn’t usually speak like this, especially about you.

“Me?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he says it makes your heart race even faster.

He nods, his gaze lifting to meet yours again. This time, it feels like he’s looking at you in a way that’s different—more intense, more meaningful. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. About how you’re always there, and how I’ve always been able to talk to you. You’re... different, you know? I think I’ve started feeling more than just the friendship thing.”

Your stomach flips, and your words get caught in your throat. You’ve always had a soft spot for Niki—his charm, his humor, his way of making everything feel effortless. But this... this confession feels like it’s pulling you into something much deeper than you expected.

“You’re telling me this now?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Niki looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s debating something in his mind. Then, he leans forward slightly, his hands folding on the table. His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by something more raw, more vulnerable.

“I know I’ve always acted like I was the one who had it all figured out,” he says, his voice quiet, but his eyes focused on you. “But the truth is... I’ve been a little scared.”

“Scared?” You lean forward, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “Scared of what?”

“Scared of how much you mean to me,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Scared of how I might mess things up. I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I can’t ignore it anymore.”

The air is thick with tension now. You feel your heart beat faster, not from fear, but from something else—something electric.

“Niki, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, he reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch is enough to make your pulse spike, and your words falter as you meet his gaze.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” he says, his voice steady but full of the emotion he’s been holding back. “I like you. More than just as a friend. And I had to tell you, even if it’s scary.”

You sit there for a moment, the world around you seeming to slow down. Niki, the guy who’s always been the center of attention, always so full of life, is now sitting in front of you, vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been feeling the same way.

You don’t need words anymore. Without thinking, you reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. It’s simple, but it feels like everything you’ve been too scared to say is being communicated in this single, quiet touch.

Niki’s eyes soften, and a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face. “I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same,” he admits, his voice a little breathless.

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. “I think we’ve both been scared of the same thing.”

And as you sit there, hands locked together, the morning light shining through the window, you realize that this is the start of something new. Something that doesn’t need words, but something you’re both willing to explore together.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED POOKIESSSS 💞✨💞

Taglist: @fangirlingobsessed @ilovebtsomgie @ayakananodesu @leftx1imaginesrenji-yanagirebel @axxftergl0w @astro-des @han-doolsetnet @ssungiverb @itsanaaa22 @bonsai-maze @graciiwestlake @lezleeferguson-120 @sovlidago @callistomk @ottokenta @ikeulove @fredneo17 @dprvivi @emisoftly @puppymyunjae @gven-takn @whitediamond778 @leipforggy

[nevernonline]

✧.* pancakes for dinner; svt smau

chapter 12.5; boo's big bash (bonus written chapter.)

synopsis: y/n while in her third year at greenwood international university finally gets an opportunity to move off campus into a new complex, she has to deal with the realization that her childhood rival is her new next door neighbor.

 paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

feat: non-idol! svt,  other passing idols ykyk.

genre/s: reader is super oblivious, fluffy, sexual themes. 

content: swearing, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

updates: weekly

word count: 16.3

tag list - open

masterlist ▸ 12. social cues ▸ 13. fallout

Y/N stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down her outfit for the hundredth time. Her phone buzzed faintly on the desk beside her, but she ignored it. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that tonight wasn’t just about a party.

Seungcheol’s behavior had been eating at her since the other night. Their secret friendship—something they’d both agreed to keep private for reasons that made sense at the time—had felt strained. His texts were shorter, his smile a little less easy, and when she’d bumped into him in the hallway this morning, he’d barely looked at her before mumbling an excuse and disappearing back into his apartment.

Had she done something wrong? She replayed every interaction in her mind, searching for an answer. Maybe it was the housewarming duel? He could be taking the friendly rivalry a little too seriously, Y/n knew he was always up for competition, but that didn’t feel like the whole story.

Y/N sighed, picking up her phone and scrolling to his contact. She wanted to text him, to ask if they were okay, before the party, hoping to at least have a small faint interaction between secret friends, but something held her back. What if she was overthinking it? What if she made it worse?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. “Y/N?” Mingyu’s voice called. “You okay in there? Everyone’s waiting.”

She hesitated, smoothing her dress again and forcing a smile onto her face, even though no one could see it. “Yeah, just fixing a couple things. Be out in a minute!”

On the other side of the door, Mingyu lingered, his hand still resting on the knob. He debated saying something—apologizing, maybe. He knew why Seungcheol had been acting off, and guilt twisted in his stomach even though he didn’t know the whole story about Cheol and Y/n’s current relationship. He just did what he wanted without asking her how she felt and it didn’t make him feel good. Last night, after a few drinks and too many moments of watching Seungcheol hover near Y/N like he owned the air she breathed, Mingyu had snapped.

Mingyu hadn’t replied further, but the tension in his jaw when Seungcheol saw him earlier today said plenty.

Inside the room, Y/N took a deep breath, her heart heavy with confusion. Whatever was going on with Seungcheol, she’d have to push it aside for now. Tonight was supposed to be fun no matter how much she just wanted to curl up under her sheets and ignore it. 

Y/N gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, tugging at the hem of her cream-colored cropped cardigan that sat snugly over a simple beige tank top. Her high-waisted light wash jeans hugged her just right, paired with a set of clean white sneakers that gave her look an effortlessly casual vibe. She’d added a few subtle gold accessories—a dainty necklace and matching hoops—that shimmered under the soft glow of her desk lamp. It wasn’t over-the-top, but it was her: comfortable, easy, yet just put-together enough to feel confident.

But despite how good she looked, the unease in her chest didn’t budge.

When she opened the door, Mingyu was leaning against the hallway wall, scrolling through his phone, but his head snapped up the second he saw her. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he forgot what he was supposed to say.

“Wow,” he muttered under his breath, standing up straighter.

Y/N paused, eyebrows raised. “What? Too casual? I knew I should’ve gone for that dress—”

“No, no,” Mingyu interrupted, shaking his head as a soft grin tugged at his lips. “You look great.”

Y/N laughed, brushing past him toward the living room where Yuqi and the others were waiting, but Mingyu stayed rooted in place for a moment longer, his fists clenching at his sides.

Whatever happened tonight, he wasn’t going to let Seungcheol—or anyone—hurt her.

The pre-party buzz filled Y/N’s apartment as she hurried between rooms, trying to wrangle last-minute details for the night’s housewarming showdown. Yuqi was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her playlist with the intensity of a DJ about to headline Coachella.

“Y/N, I swear to fucking god, if I don’t get full control of the music tonight, I’m defecting to the boys' apartment,” she teased, shooting a smirk over her shoulder.

“Bold of you to assume they'd let you touch their playlist,” Mark quipped, walking in with two glasses of wine. “We can’t risk losing the MVP before we even start.”

In the kitchen, Hoshi was busy assembling snacks, humming a tune while occasionally sneaking chips into his mouth. Mingyu, meanwhile, leaned against the counter, eyes trailing Y/N as she darted around.

“Relax, Y/N. It’s just a party,” Mingyu said, trying to sound casual, though his heart raced every time she glanced his way.

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, sure. Just a party where half of our friends are going to judge who’s got the better vibes, plus a bunch of random ass people that Seungkwan invited will be in my home.  No pressure at all.”

Across the hall, Seungcheol and Seungkwan were prepping their apartment with an equal mix of friendly competition and mild chaos. But here, in Y/N’s apartment, the air felt different.

Mingyu caught Yuqi’s knowing smirk as he watched Y/N adjust the decorations. “What, Troll?” he muttered defensively.

“Nothing,” Yuqi sang, but the look she exchanged with Hoshi said it all.

The tension wasn’t just about the party anymore—especially not for Mingyu, who’d been watching Seungcheol’s shitty attempts to get closer to Y/N for weeks without knowing the real truth of the situation. Tonight wasn’t just about which apartment would win; it was about keeping feelings in check in the middle of a warzone of snacks, games, and underlying rivalries.

“Alright, team,” Yuqi said, clapping her hands. “This is it. Are we ready?”

As the group cheered, Mingyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Seungcheol.

"Try not to get in my way tonight, Mingyu."

Seungcheol paced around his apartment, the soft hum of music doing little to settle the storm in his head. Seungkwan was in the kitchen, hyper-focused on arranging the snack table to look like something straight out of a lifestyle blog.

“Cheol, seriously, if you’re not going to fucking help, can you at least stop pacing? You’re literally giving me anxiety, and I’m already stressed about Yuqi taking this fake rivalry too far and trying to destroy us tonight,” Seungkwan said, throwing a handful of pretzels into a bowl with dramatic flair.

“Sorry,” Seungcheol muttered, running a hand through his hair. His gaze drifted to his phone on the counter, his thoughts circling back to Y/N for the hundredth time that day.

He’d been trying so hard to rebuild things with her. Their friendship now, as quiet and under-the-radar as it was, felt fragile. It had taken years to even get to this point after what he’d done.

Betrayal.

The word still stung. They’d been inseparable as teenagers until he screwed everything up. She’d trusted him, and he’d let her down in a way he hadn’t been able to forgive himself for, even now.

“Cheol, stop overthinking,” Seungkwan said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. “I know you’ve been trying to make things right with Y/N or whatever other things you're always brooding about, but tonight isn’t the night to get all serious about it, it’s a night to forget that shit and have fun, maybe meet another girl for once? Just keep it light, have fun, and, for the love of everything holy, do not make it fucking weird.”

Seungcheol frowned, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t planning to make it weird.”

Seungkwan shot him a look. “You get that face every time she’s mentioned. The guilt. Just relax, okay? Be your charming, fun self. Save the heartfelt apologies and deep talks for literally any night but this one. It’s a party, plus it’s half our party. So, lighten up.”

Seungcheol sighed, his fingers twitching with the urge to grab his phone and text her, but he knew Seungkwan had a point. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Still, it wasn’t easy to just set aside the weight of their history, or the complicated tangle of feelings that came with their secret friendship now.

And then there was Mingyu.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as his phone screen lit up with another notification. Mingyu hadn’t sent anything since last night’s pointed text, but the words still echoed in his head.

"If you’re just going to keep stringing her along, back off. You don’t deserve her."

The thing was, maybe Mingyu was right. Maybe he didn’t deserve her—not after what he’d done. But that didn’t stop the quiet moments they shared from replaying in his mind, the way she laughed when he managed to get her to let her guard down, the rare moments when she looked at him like she had back then, before everything went wrong.

“Cheol.”

Seungkwan’s voice pulled him back to the present. He was holding up a perfectly arranged tray of sliders. “Try one and tell me these don’t scream ‘winner of the housewarming duel.’”

Seungcheol managed a small smile, grabbing a slider. “Yeah, they look great.”

“Great? Great?” Seungkwan huffed. “You’re impossible. I swear, if I lose to Yuqi and Y/N because you’re too busy brooding over old fucking teenage angst, I’ll never fucking let you live it down.”

Seungcheol chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it light.”

But as he glanced at his phone again, Mingyu’s message and Y/N’s name swirling in his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder if avoiding it all for the night was going to be as easy as Seungkwan made it sound.

The warm hum of laughter and music filled Y/N and Yuqi’s apartment, the cozy yet lively atmosphere setting the perfect tone for the night ahead. Yuqi was already buzzing with energy, standing on one of the kitchen stools and declaring herself the queen as she handed out glasses for a pre-party toast.

“Alright, everyone!” Yuqi clapped her hands, her grin lighting up the room. “Before the chaos begins and this hallway rivalry gets out of hand, let’s take a moment to acknowledge one important thing: we are the fucking moment.”

Y/N laughed as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her gold hoops catching the light. Mingyu handed her a glass, his fingers brushing hers for a split second, but she didn’t seem to notice. He, however, did, and it sent a jolt through his chest.

Seungkwan, standing near the doorway with Mark, rolled his eyes. “Yuqi, you’re making this sound like we’re about to head into battle.”

“Aren’t we?” Yuqi shot back, raising her glass high. “To good vibes, great snacks, and absolutely annihilating the dumb boys across the hall. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone echoed, laughter erupting as they clinked their glasses together.

Seungcheol was the last to walk into the room, holding a bottle of tequila he’d brought over. He paused in the doorway for a moment, his eyes instantly finding Y/N. She was laughing, her smile brighter than the overhead lights, her glass raised as she playfully bumped shoulders with Mingyu.

That familiar ache crept back into his chest, but he shook it off, forcing a casual smile as he stepped in.

“You made it!” Yuqi cheered, hopping off her stool and snagging the bottle from his hands. “And you come bearing gifts. Good choice, Cheol. You might just be safe from our wrath tonight. But, guys wait- we have to have another drink quickly before people come because Seungcheol is here now.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes flickered to Y/N again, who had just noticed him. She gave him a small, almost hesitant smile, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room faded away.

“Cheol!” Hoshi called, breaking the moment. “You’re just in time for the.. second toast. We were about to declare Y/N and Yuqi’s apartment the better party spot.”

“Bold of you to assume,” Seungcheol shot back, making his way to the group and grabbing an empty glass Yuqi shoved into his hand.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N said, stepping forward to get everyone’s attention. Her voice was warm and steady, her presence instantly commanding the room. “Before this whole hallway rivalry spirals out of control, let’s just take a second to appreciate the fact that we’ve got two great apartments, a bunch of good music, and way too many people about to cram into this building.” She raised her glass. “To a good night, no matter whose party wins.”

The group cheered, clinking glasses again before downing their drinks.

As the laughter died down, Yuqi grabbed Seungkwan’s arm. “Alright, you little fucking traitor. Let’s go make sure your place isn’t falling apart. I need to see this insane spread you’ve been bragging about.”

“Fine, fine,” Seungkwan grumbled, letting himself be dragged to the door. “Just don’t touch anything. We’re running a tight ship over there.”

The group started shuffling toward the hallway, but Seungcheol lingered for a moment, watching as Y/N placed her glass on the counter. She caught his gaze, tilting her head slightly in question.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked softly, her voice cutting through the noise.

He hesitated, the weight of everything he wanted to say pressing against his chest. But before he could answer, Mingyu appeared at her side, slinging an arm around her shoulders with a grin.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mingyu said. “Let’s go see if Seungkwan’s sliders live up to the hype.”

Y/N laughed, giving Seungcheol one last look almost as if to tell him she’s sorry, even if she had no clue what was really going on before letting Mingyu guide her toward the door.

Seungcheol clenched his jaw, draining the rest of his cup in one go. Tonight was going to be harder than he thought. 

The hallway between the two apartments was already bustling, with a few early arrivals laughing and chatting as they migrated back and forth between the two party zones. Y/N and Mingyu trailed behind the group, their steps falling into an easy rhythm.

“You’re really going to let them think Kwan’s sliders are better than your spread?” Mingyu teased, bumping her shoulder lightly with his.

Y/N smirked, her hands tucked casually into her pockets, begging internally for a drink “Please. I had one of Seungkwan’s sliders earlier, and they’re good, but Yuqi and I? We’ve got the edge. It’s all about presentation.”

“Ah, so you’re playing the long game,” Mingyu said, nodding sagely. “Distract them with good vibes while subtly crushing their spirits. Respect.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Exactly. It’s all part of the plan.”

As they reached the doorway to Seungcheol and Seungkwan’s apartment, Mingyu placed a hand on the doorframe, pausing for a moment to glance at her. “You look really nice tonight, by the way, I know I already told you that, but it can't hurt to tell you again,” he said casually, though the faint hint of nerves in his voice betrayed him.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, you’re a charmer tonight, huh? But, you too,” she replied, giving him a small smile. Mingyu always knew how to make people feel at ease, and tonight was no exception.

He hesitated for a second, then tilted his head, his gaze softening. “You okay? You’ve seemed a little… I don’t know, distracted tonight.”

Y/N froze for a moment, debating how to respond. Should she tell him about the knot of confusion in her chest, the questions swirling around Seungcheol and whatever invisible tension had been hanging between them lately? But that felt too complicated to explain, and besides, this was supposed to be a night for fun, not overthinking.

“I’m fine,” she said finally, brushing it off with a small wave of her hand. “Just trying to make sure everything runs smoothly, you know? I need some drinks.”

Mingyu studied her for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line like he wanted to say something else. But before he could, Seungkwan’s voice boomed from inside the apartment.

“Yuqi! Stop fucking rearranging the snack table! I had a system!”

Y/N and Mingyu exchanged an amused look before stepping inside. The apartment was already buzzing with energy, the warm lighting and neatly arranged snacks giving it a welcoming feel.

“Looks good in here,” Y/N commented, scanning the space. Her eyes landed on Seungcheol, who was standing near the makeshift bar, a drink in hand. He caught her gaze for a split second before looking away, his expression unreadable.

“Impressive,” Mingyu said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “But still not as good as ours.”

Y/N laughed, letting Mingyu’s easy humor lighten her mood. But as she moved further into the apartment, she couldn’t shake the lingering weight of Seungcheol’s fleeting glance, or the way her chest tightened at the thought of everything unspoken between them.

Seungcheol leaned against the makeshift bar in the corner, one hand loosely holding his drink while the other drummed against the edge of the counter. He was trying to stay present, trying to focus on the party around him, but his gaze kept pulling back to the doorway like a magnet.

And then there she was.

Y/N stepped into the apartment with Mingyu by her side, the two of them sharing a quiet laugh that twisted something deep in his chest. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her neutral-toned outfit perfectly complementing the way she carried herself—confident, warm, and completely oblivious to the storm she stirred inside him.

Seungcheol’s grip tightened around his glass as he watched Mingyu lean in, saying something that made her laugh again. The sound was soft, unguarded, the kind of laugh that used to be just for him, back when they were younger and everything was simpler. Before he ruined it.

“Cheol!” Seungkwan’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see his friend approaching with Yuqi trailing behind him, holding a slider in each hand.

“What’s with the broody look? I thought I told you no brooding.” Seungkwan asked, raising an eyebrow as he nudged Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I’m not brooding,” Seungcheol said, though he knew it sounded unconvincing.

Yuqi, never one to miss an opportunity, jumped in. “He’s totally brooding. Classic Seungcheol move. What’s it about this time? Did someone insult your taste in music again?”

Seungcheol forced a chuckle, shaking his head. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Yuqi narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t push. “Well, snap out of it. This is a fucking party, not a therapy session. You’ll have plenty of time to sulk after tonight.”

As Yuqi wandered off to inspect the snack table again, Seungkwan leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Look, I know I said to keep it light tonight, but you’re not exactly selling the whole ‘charming and fun’ vibe. Whatever’s going on with Y/N, just… don’t let it mess with your head too much, okay? Mingyu’s clearly trying to make his move, and if you’re going to act like this all night, you might as well hand him the win.”

Seungcheol bristled, his jaw tightening. “I’m not competing with Mingyu.”

“Well, that’s good,” Seungkwan said with a shrug. “Because you’d lose. The guy’s been attached to her for a lot longer than you have.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked back to Y/N, who was now standing by the living room sofa with Mingyu, a soft smile on her face as he animatedly told a story. Her laugh rang out again, and Seungcheol felt that familiar ache, the one that always came with being so close to her yet feeling miles apart.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Seungkwan.

But as he took another sip of his drink, the bitter taste of jealousy lingered far longer than it should have.

Just as he was about to lose himself in thought again, a familiar voice pulled him back.

“Hey, bartender.”

Seungcheol turned his head sharply, surprised to see Y/N standing just a few feet away, leaning casually against the bar. Her expression was light, playful, though he caught the subtle tension in her shoulders, the faint flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“You look like you could use a distraction,” she continued, raising an eyebrow as she gestured to the drink in his hand. “How about you do a girl a favor and make me one of whatever you’ve got there?”

He blinked at her, momentarily stunned. It had been days since she’d initiated a casual conversation like this, and it threw him off balance. “You want me to make you a drink?”

She grinned, tilting her head. “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Or are you just going to fucking stand here looking cool for fun?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her teasing tone, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright, alright. What do you want?”

“Surprise me,” she said, leaning her elbows on the bar as she watched him.

Seungcheol nodded, turning to the bottles in front of him. His hands moved with practiced ease, pouring and mixing as if it were second nature. The act of making the drink gave him something to focus on, a brief reprieve from the chaos in his mind.

“You’re unusually chipper tonight,” he said after a moment, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“Chipper?” she echoed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know this is just my default party mode. Someone has to keep things fun around here.”

He glanced at her, his expression softening. “It suits you.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, though she masked it with a quick laugh. “Careful, Cheol. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He smirked, sliding the finished drink across the counter to her. “Maybe it was.”

She took a sip, her eyebrows raising in approval. “Not bad. You might actually have some hidden talents after all.”

“Only some?” he teased, leaning against the counter now, his earlier tension easing slightly in her presence.

“I’m still collecting data,” she said with a shrug, her smile teasing.

For a moment, it felt like old times—like the weight of their shared history, their secrets, and their unspoken tension had faded into the background. But the moment was fleeting, and as Mingyu’s voice called out from across the room, Y/N straightened, her playful demeanor shifting back into something more guarded.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said, her voice softer now. “I should probably—”

Seungcheol just nodded, “Yeah. Catch you later.” 

Seungcheol wasn’t sure what Mingyu’s play was with Y/n. Obviously he didn’t know she was actually rebuilding her friendship with Seungcheol behind closed doors yet, but somehow Mingyu was onto something or at least thought he was and was going to do anything in his power to stay in the way of them. 

Seungkwan leaned against the far wall, sipping his drink as he took in the scene before him. The party was in full swing now, with more people trickling into the apartment and the energy growing louder, livelier. But his sharp eyes, as always, weren’t distracted by the chaos. They were focused on one corner of the room.

He’d seen the way Y/N had walked over to Seungcheol at the bar, her easy smile and casual demeanor masking something more. And he’d seen the way Seungcheol had looked at her—like she was the only person in the room, even when she wasn’t trying to be.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was more going on between those two than either of them let on.

“Why do you look like you’re plotting something?” Yuqi’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Seungkwan turned to see her standing next to him, arms crossed, her gaze following his.

“I’m not plotting,” he said defensively.

Yuqi arched an eyebrow. “Sure, and I’m not typsy. You’ve been staring at Y/N and Cheol like you’re watching a soap opera.”

“I’m just… observing,” Seungkwan admitted, lowering his voice slightly. “There’s something fucking weird going on with them.”

Yuqi narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she watched Y/N walk away from the bar, drink in hand, and rejoin Mingyu, who immediately looped an arm around her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Meanwhile, Seungcheol was left behind, his expression carefully blank, though Yuqi could tell he was anything but calm.

“Weird how?” Yuqi asked, turning back to Seungkwan.

“I literally don’t know,” Seungkwan said, frowning. “Cheol’s been acting off around her for weeks, and I know he’s been trying to apologize for, like, literally fucking everything he did back when they were younger. But he’s being so… I don’t know? Cryptic about it. And now weirdly he’s so mad about Mingyu being in the picture, and—”

“Ohhh,” Yuqi interrupted, her eyes lighting up. “Are you saying you think it’s a love triangle?”

“What? No? That actually didn’t cross my mind.” Seungkwan hissed, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “It’s not… okay, fine, maybe it’s a little like that. But whatever it is, it’s just so messy, and they’re clearly not handling it well. The energy has been weird especially after last night.” 

Yuqi smirked, but then her gaze shifted to another part of the room where Vernon stood near the bookshelf, quietly chatting with a small group of friends. “You do have a point but I have a feeling you’re focusing on the wrong guy,” she said, nodding toward Vernon. “What about him?”

Seungkwan blinked, taken aback. “Vernon? Seriously?”

“Yes, dumbass.  Seriously. ” Yuqi shot back, her hands on her hips. “He’s literally fucking perfect for Y/N. Chill, kind, actually emotionally available. You know, unlike some people. And bonus, he knows her so well, he hasn’t been this social in years.”

Seungkwan followed her gaze, his expression skeptical. “I don’t know. Vernon’s great and all, but does he even like her like that?”

Yuqi rolled her eyes. “Of fucking course he does. Do you think he spends all that time around her just for fun? He’s lowkey about it, but I can tell. He’s got a crush. Well, probably has had a fucking crush for over a decade. And honestly? She deserves someone like him.”

Seungkwan glanced back at Vernon, who had just caught Y/N’s eye from across the room and offered her a small, shy smile. She smiled back, and for a brief moment, it was like the tension from earlier melted away.

“Hmm,” Seungkwan muttered, sipping his drink thoughtfully. “You might just have a point, my little devil friend. He’s drama free at least, which she definitely deserves.”

“Exactly,” Yuqi said, nudging him with her elbow. “So maybe instead of obsessing over Seungcheol and Mingyu, we should help Vernon out. He’s like the black sheep, and you know how much I love an underdog story.”

Seungkwan sighed, rubbing his temple. “I don’t fucking know, Yuqi. This whole thing is already a huge ass mess. Adding Vernon into the mix feels like lighting a match in a fireworks factory.”

“Or,” Yuqi said with a grin, “it could be the spark that finally gets her to realize who’s actually worth her time.”

Seungkwan shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” Yuqi replied, raising her glass in mock cheers.

Seungkwan chuckled, but as he glanced back at Y/N, who was now laughing at something Mingyu said while Seungcheol lingered in the background, he couldn’t help but wonder if Yuqi might actually be onto something.

Y/n hadn’t realized her drink dried up until she went to take another sip. She casually excused herself and found the way back to the bar through the streams of people going in and out of each room, talking and mingling. 

The figure standing and looking into the fridge nearly startled her when she got bumped into his back, but she immediately recognized the smell of their cologne. 

“Trying to kill me, y/n?” Vernon turned around, smiling while he cracked open a can of beer. 

“Thought it would be a nice way to take you out, when you least expected it.” 

Y/N smirked, leaning against the counter as Vernon chuckled, his eyes crinkling in that way that always made him seem effortlessly calm. He handed her the opened can, grabbing another for himself before shutting the fridge.

“Well,” he said, twisting the tab open with ease, “if that’s your plan, you’ll have to try harder. I’ve got quick reflexes.”

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N quipped, raising an eyebrow as she took a sip.

“Mm-hmm.” Vernon leaned against the counter beside her, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. “You okay? You seem kind of distant tonight.”

The question caught her off guard. She’d been so focused on keeping up appearances and untangling the web of emotions around Seungcheol and Mingyu that she hadn’t realized how transparent she might seem.

“I’m fine,” she said after a beat, though the way Vernon’s eyes narrowed told her he wasn’t buying it. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice easy but sincere.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her can. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to dive into everything, but the warmth in Vernon’s gaze made her feel like maybe she could let down her guard, just a little.

“It’s nothing major,” she said finally. “Just people being complicated.”

Vernon nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, people tend to be good at that.”

They shared a small, knowing laugh, and for a moment, the tension in her chest eased.

“You know,” Vernon said after a pause, his tone a bit lighter, “if anyone’s giving you a hard time, I’m pretty good at standing there and looking intimidating.”

Y/N laughed, nudging his arm. “You? Intimidating? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so much as raise your voice.”

“Hey, I can be scary when I want to be,” he said, mock-offended. “I’ve got the stoic face down. Watch.”

He straightened up, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes in what he probably thought was a menacing glare. Y/N burst out laughing, almost spilling her drink.

“Wow. Terrifying,” she teased, wiping at her eyes.

“Okay, okay, maybe I’m not scary,” Vernon admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But I’m a good listener. So, you know, if you need to unload I’m here.”

Y/N looked at him, warmth blooming in her chest. Vernon’s sincerity was disarming, a rare kind of comfort she hadn’t realized she needed tonight.

“I’ll take a rain check right now, thank you.” she said softly, meeting his eyes. “That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he said, clinking his can gently against hers.

Before the moment could stretch further, a loud burst of laughter from the living room pulled their attention. Y/N glanced toward the noise, catching sight of Seungcheol leaning against the far wall, his eyes already on her. The flicker of something unspoken in his gaze made her chest tighten again, but she quickly looked away, pretending not to notice.

Vernon must have seen it, too, because his expression shifted slightly, a knowing edge creeping into his otherwise calm demeanor. “Complicated people, huh?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N groaned, resting her forehead against her palm. “Don’t remind me.”

“Well, if they get too complicated,” Vernon said with a small shrug, “just say the word, and I’ll swoop in. Nice and simple.”

Y/N laughed, feeling the tension ease again, even if just for a moment. “You’re the best, Vern.”

“Don’t forget it, get back to keeping the peace, I’ll find you in a bit. I have to go brag to Wonwoo about a level I beat in this game we’re both playing. ” he said, smiling as he stepped aside to let her head back toward the party.

But as she made her way back into the crowded living room, Seungcheol’s gaze followed her every move, his grip on his drink tightening.

Y/N slipped back into the living room, the din of laughter and conversation washing over her like a wave. She clutched her drink a little tighter, scanning the room for Yuqi or Seungkwan, anyone who could ground her in the moment. But instead, her gaze caught on Seungcheol—still leaning against the wall, still watching her.

She felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. His expression wasn’t sharp or angry, but it held something else, something heavy, like he was trying to convey a message she couldn’t quite decipher. Y/N quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the makeshift dance floor where Hoshi was dramatically showing off his moves, earning cheers and groans of laughter.

“You’re back,” Yuqi said, suddenly appearing beside her with a fresh drink in hand. “I was starting to think you’d bailed on me.”

“Needed a drink,” Y/N replied, smiling faintly.

Yuqi sipped her drink, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced toward Seungcheol. “And let me guess… that moment was interrupted by you-know-who?”

Y/N gave her a look. “I wasn’t thinking about him.”

Yuqi snorted. “Sure. And I wasn’t just watching him watch you like his life depends on it.”

“Yuqi—“

“I’m just saying,” she cut in, holding up a hand, “you can ignore it all you want, but something is going on there. And if you don’t figure it out soon, the tension in this room is going to swallow us all whole.”

Before Y/N could respond, Vernon sidled up next to them, his easy smile helping to diffuse some of the weight in the air. “Am I interrupting some secret girl talk?”

“Always, Idiot.”  Yuqi said, smirking.

“Good,” Vernon said, sliding an arm around Y/N’s shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Because I think Y/N needs a break from whatever you were grilling her about.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, grateful for the distraction. “Thank you, Vernon. Finally, someone’s on my side.”

“Always,” he replied, giving her a quick squeeze before letting go. “Now, what’s the plan? Are we dancing, or are we rescuing Hoshi from himself?”

“I vote dancing,” Yuqi said, already moving toward the music.

“You coming?” Vernon asked Y/N, his expression open and warm, hand held out to drag her along with them.

She hesitated, glancing back toward the wall where Seungcheol had been standing—but he wasn’t there anymore. Her chest tightened, unsure if she felt relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah,” she said finally, taking Vernon’s cold hand in hers, forcing a smile. “Let’s dance.”

The three of them joined the group on the dance floor, Yuqi pulling Hoshi into a ridiculous choreographed move while Vernon and Y/N laughed from the sidelines. For a brief moment, Y/N allowed herself to get swept up in the energy, the music, and the comfort of her friends.

But as the night stretched on, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Seungcheol’s eyes on her, even when he wasn’t in the room.

Seungcheol stood in the kitchen, gripping his drink tighter than necessary as he watched Y/N move through the living room with Yuqi and Vernon. His gaze lingered, though he tried to keep his expression neutral, uninterested—anything but the turmoil he actually felt.

She was laughing now, her head tilted back slightly as Vernon said something that made her smile. The sight made Seungcheol’s chest ache in a way he hated. It was easier when she wasn’t around, when he could pretend he didn’t care, that their shared past didn’t matter anymore. But here, in the same room, it was impossible to ignore.

His thoughts kept circling back to earlier in the night, during the game. When she’d walked in and asked him to make her a drink, her attempt at easing the tension between them had felt so transparent. And yet, he hadn’t known how to respond. He couldn’t shake the way she’d looked at him—like she was trying to bridge a gap that neither of them fully understood.

And then there was Mingyu. Seungcheol clenched his jaw at the memory of the arm-wrestling match, the way Mingyu’s easy confidence grated on him. He didn’t blame Mingyu for looking out for Y/N—hell, he admired it, in a way—but there was something about it that made his blood simmer. Maybe it was how obvious Mingyu’s feelings were, or maybe it was the way Y/N seemed to trust him so effortlessly, in a way she hadn’t trusted Seungcheol in years.

He leaned against the counter, taking a long sip of his drink as he replayed everything in his mind. The unresolved tension from their teenage years, the secret friendship they’d rebuilt in recent months, the way she looked at him tonight—like she was both wary and curious. It was maddening.

“Are you just going to stand here all night?”

Seungcheol turned to find Seungkwan leaning in the doorway, a knowing look on his face.

“Not in the mood to socialize,” Seungcheol said flatly, though the edge in his voice made Seungkwan raise an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. And that has nothing to do with Y/N?” Seungkwan asked, crossing his arms.

Seungcheol shot him a look. “Drop it.”

“I’m just saying,” Seungkwan said, stepping closer, “you’re not exactly subtle, Cheol. If you don’t want people to notice, maybe stop glaring at Vernon every time he talks to her.”

“I’m not glaring,” Seungcheol muttered, though he knew it wasn’t entirely true.

Seungkwan sighed, leaning against the counter beside him. “Look, I get it. You’ve got history, and you’re trying to make things right. But maybe tonight isn’t the night to hash it out. She looks overwhelmed, you know?”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated how well Seungkwan could read him, but he couldn’t argue with the truth of it. Y/N did look overwhelmed—like she was carrying the weight of something bigger than anyone in the room realized.

“I don’t want to make things worse,” Seungcheol admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” Seungkwan said simply. “Just be there for her. Without the drama. Without the tension.”

Seungcheol nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure how to do that. He glanced back toward the living room, where Y/N was now dancing with Vernon and Yuqi, her laughter ringing out above the music.

He couldn’t help but think about the last time they’d danced together, years ago, before everything fell apart. Before he betrayed her trust.

For now, all he could do was watch from a distance, hoping that one day, she might see him as someone worth trusting again.

Y/N laughed as Yuqi spun her dramatically in time to the music, nearly sending them both stumbling into the couch. Vernon caught her arm to steady her, his calm energy a welcome contrast to Yuqi’s chaotic antics.

“Careful,” Vernon teased. “I’m not dragging anyone home tonight if you sprain something.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N insisted, laughing as she straightened up. Her cheeks were flushed, a mix of the alcohol and the growing heat in the room.

Still, her smile faltered when she caught Seungcheol’s figure lingering in the kitchen doorway, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at her now—his gaze was fixed on the drink in his hand—but his presence alone made her chest tighten.

She hated how easily he could unsettle her. No matter how much time passed, no matter how many layers of their friendship they rebuilt in secret, there was always that lingering sense of something unresolved.

“Earth to Y/N.”

Yuqi’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Y/N turned to find her friend giving her a pointed look, holding out a fresh drink.

“Where’d you just go?” Yuqi asked, pressing the cup into her hand.

“Nowhere,” Y/N said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just zoning out.”

Yuqi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she let it slide, gesturing toward the small dance floor. “Come on, you can’t check out now. Hoshi’s about to break out his signature move.”

Y/N laughed and allowed herself to be pulled back into the fray, her body moving automatically to the beat of the music. But even as she danced, her thoughts kept drifting back to Seungcheol.

Was he mad at her? She couldn’t tell anymore. Every interaction between them felt like a puzzle, one she wasn’t sure she was equipped to solve. And then there was Mingyu—always so present, so protective. It was overwhelming, trying to navigate everyone’s emotions while also managing her own.

At one point, she stepped away from the group to catch her breath, retreating to the edge of the room where it was quieter. She took a sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the party.

Seungcheol was still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with Seungkwan by his side. Mingyu, meanwhile, was talking animatedly with Hoshi and a few others near the couch. Both of them were so different in their energy, yet both had this gravitational pull that she couldn’t quite escape.

“You okay?”

The familiar voice made her turn. Vernon stood beside her, his expression calm and curious.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, nodding quickly. “Just needed a minute.”

“Fair enough,” he said, sipping his beer. “You’ve got that look, though.”

“What look?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The ‘I’m overthinking everything’ look.”

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “Am I that obvious?”

“Not to everyone,” Vernon said with a small smile. “But I can tell.” 

Y/n just blinked at him, studying the look on his face. “Cover for me while I sneak away for a minute?” 

“I’ve done worse for you. Where are you escaping to now?” 

Y/n just smirked and patted him on the shoulder. “If you know me so well you’ll know where to find me, you have to wait five minutes, we will see if you pass.” 

Vernon watched her slip through the crowd, his curiosity piqued. He didn’t bother following her immediately—he knew Y/N well enough to recognize when she needed space. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t check on her.

After waiting the full five minutes (and a little longer just to be safe), he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and slipped out of the apartment. It didn’t take long to figure out where she’d gone.

The crisp night air hit him as he stepped onto the rooftop. The faint smell of weed greeted him before he spotted her, sitting cross-legged on a bench with her hood pulled up, a joint in one hand and her gaze fixed on the stars above.

“You really didn’t make this hard to figure out,” Vernon said, announcing his presence as he walked closer.

Y/N looked over her shoulder, exhaling a soft cloud of smoke. “I wasn’t trying to. I just needed to breathe.”

Vernon sat down on the bench beside her, leaving enough space to give her the room she clearly needed. He didn’t say anything at first, simply tilting his head back to look up at the sky.

“It’s cold as hell up here,” he finally said, his breath visible in the air.

“That’s the point,” Y/N replied, holding the joint out to him. “Want some?”

He hesitated for a moment before taking it, bringing it to his lips for a quick drag. The smoke burned his throat slightly, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “So, what’s the escape this time?”

Y/N shrugged, pulling her hood tighter around her face. “Too many people. Too many things.”

“Things,” Vernon repeated, handing the joint back to her. “That’s specific.”

She gave him a look but didn’t elaborate. Instead, she took another hit, the glowing tip of the joint briefly illuminating her face. Her eyes seemed heavier than usual, like she was carrying something she couldn’t quite name.

“Was it the whispering of Seunkwan wanting to be a drama queen and play truth or drink?” Vernon asked gently.

Y/N exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl upward. “Part of it, maybe. But honestly, I think it was always going to hit me tonight. Doesn’t really matter what started it.”

Vernon nodded, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “Want to talk about it, or are we just stargazing?”

“Stargazing sounds safer,” she said, though the corner of her mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the muffled hum of the party below them barely reaching the rooftop.

“You’re really good at disappearing,” Vernon said after a while, his tone light but not teasing.

Y/N glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re here, but it feels like you’re not. Like… your body’s sitting on this bench, but your mind’s off somewhere else, doing a million calculations.”

She didn’t respond right away, her gaze drifting back to the sky. “Maybe that’s because it’s easier. Being present is… messy.”

“Life’s messy,” Vernon said, his voice soft. “But you’re allowed to exist in it. You know that, right?”

Y/N’s throat tightened, but she nodded, her fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s just complicated. With everyone. And I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing something up.”

Vernon watched her carefully, his expression thoughtful. “You don’t have to balance it all perfectly. You just have to do what feels right for you. The rest will figure itself out.”

She let his words sink in, the warmth of them surprising her. Vernon had a way of making things feel simple, even when they weren’t.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, offering him the joint one last time.

“Anytime,” he replied, taking it with a small smile.

As the cold air bit at their skin, Y/N found herself relaxing, the weight in her chest lifting ever so slightly. For the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe.

“Think they’ll notice I’m gone?” she asked after a while.

“Probably,” Vernon said with a shrug. “But I’ll cover for you, remember?”

Y/N smiled, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t forget it,” Vernon said, grinning.

Y/N leaned back on the bench, stretching her legs out in front of her. The cold nipped at her fingers, but the warmth from the joint and the comfort of Vernon’s presence balanced it out. She handed the joint back to him, watching as he took a slow drag, his eyes squinting slightly against the bite of the chill.

“You know,” Vernon began, his voice low and steady, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you just sit like this before. Not running around or worrying about someone. Just here.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “What, like I’m incapable of sitting still?”

“Not incapable,” he said, smiling faintly. “Just rare. You’re always trying to fix something, or make someone else comfortable. It’s nice to see you actually breathe for once.”

Y/N turned her gaze back to the stars, the quiet sincerity in his words catching her off guard. “Guess it’s easier to breathe up here,” she admitted. “No expectations, no noise.”

“No Mingyu, No Seungcheol,” Vernon added, his voice teasing but laced with something heavier.

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t look at him. “Yeah. That too.”

Vernon sighed, leaning back on the bench beside her. “I wasn’t trying to pry. Just saying. You seem like you’ve got a lot going on.”

“That’s one way to put it,” she muttered, exhaling a puff of air that mingled with the smoke curling into the night sky.

They sat in silence for a moment before Vernon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know, whatever you’re carrying, you don’t have to do it alone. People care about you, Y/N. You can lean on us.”

She glanced at him, his profile illuminated softly by the glow of the city lights. “Do you ever think leaning on people just makes things messier?”

“Sometimes,” Vernon admitted. “But I’d rather deal with the mess than pretend it doesn’t exist.”

His words hung in the air, heavier than the smoke swirling around them. Y/N wanted to say something, to thank him or deflect with a joke, but her throat felt tight. Instead, she reached out and lightly bumped her hand against his, a small gesture that said more than words could in the moment.

Vernon glanced at their hands and then at her, his expression soft but steady. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight, you know,” he said quietly. “Or even tomorrow. Just don’t shut people out. Especially the ones who care about you. Me, Yuqi, Kwan, Soony, you know the list, but. ”

Y/N smiled faintly, her lips curling up just enough to show she appreciated his words. “You’re kind of annoyingly wise for someone who usually refuses to get involved in drama.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the bench again. “That’s because I’ve got the best seat in the house. Watching from the sidelines keeps me out of trouble, but it also means I see a lot of things people don’t notice about themselves.”

“Like what?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.

“Like you,” he said simply. “You’re always putting everyone else first. You try so hard to make peace or keep the balance, but you don’t let anyone do the same for you. It’s like you’re afraid to ask for anything because you think you’ll tip the scales.”

His words struck a chord deep inside her, leaving her momentarily speechless. It was rare for someone to call her out so directly, and even rarer for it to come from someone as laid-back as Vernon.

She let out a shaky laugh, more to ease the weight in her chest than anything else. “Guess I’m not as subtle as I thought.”

“Not to me, anyway,” Vernon said, giving her a warm, knowing smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while longer, the joint burning down to its last embers between them. The cold air seemed to sharpen everything—the stars above, the distant hum of the city, the steady presence of Vernon beside her.

Eventually, Vernon stood, brushing his hands on his jeans. “Alright, I should probably get back before Yuqi starts a search party. Are you good up here?”

Y/N nodded, her smile soft but genuine. “Yeah. Thanks for escaping with me.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “Don’t stay out here too long, though. It’s freezing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving him off.

As he walked away, she leaned back against the bench, staring up at the stars again. The rooftop felt quieter without him, the air heavier with her thoughts. But for the first time in what felt like hours, she didn’t feel completely alone.

She closed her eyes, letting the cold air bite at her cheeks and the quiet settled around her. Maybe Vernon was right—maybe she didn’t have to figure everything out tonight. For now, she could just exist.

When she opened her eyes again, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching the faint mist of her breath disappear into the night.

“One step at a time,” she whispered to herself, the words more of a promise than a resolution.

Y/N stood from the bench, brushing off the frost that had collected on her jacket. The cold had seeped through her layers, leaving her fingers numb and her cheeks tingling, but it also cleared her mind in a way the rooftop always seemed to. She took a final look at the stars, exhaling deeply, before heading toward the door.

The hum of the party grew louder as she descended the stairs, the muffled bass of the music vibrating through the walls. By the time she reached the door to Seungcheol and Seungkwan’s apartment, her body had adjusted to the warmth seeping out into the hallway. She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

The party inside was still alive and chaotic. She could hear laughter, the clinking of glasses, and Yuqi’s unmistakable voice cheering someone on. She steeled herself, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

As she slipped back inside, the heat and noise enveloped her like a wave. Her eyes scanned the room, noting the various clusters of people still mingling, dancing, and drinking. Vernon had returned to his usual quiet spot near the couch, looking up when she entered and giving her a small nod. She smiled back faintly, silently thanking him for earlier.

“Y/N!” Yuqi’s voice pierced through the crowd as she bounded over, a drink in hand and an exaggerated pout on her lips. “Where were you? I thought you got kidnapped or something!”

“Just needed some air,” Y/N said, dodging the hug Yuqi attempted to throw around her.

“Air?” Yuqi repeated, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You’ve been gone for, like, a year.”

“Ten minutes,” Vernon corrected from across the room, raising his beer.

“Felt like longer,” Yuqi grumbled before thrusting the drink into Y/N’s hand. “Here, bitch, you’re behind. Catch up!”

Y/N took the cup, pretending to sip from it as her eyes scanned the room. She couldn’t help but notice Seungcheol standing near the kitchen, his arms crossed as he talked to Seungkwan and Hoshi. He wasn’t laughing, but there was a soft smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Mingyu, meanwhile, was in the center of the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of people who seemed completely entranced. His gaze flitted over to her briefly, but his expression remained unreadable before he returned to his audience.

“Y/N, come on!” Yuqi tugged at her arm, pulling her toward the group gathered near the couch. “We’re playing some games—someone said the charades last time were rigged.”

“Yuqi, I just—”

“No excuses.” Yuqi declared, plopping her down on the couch next to Vernon, who looked amused but didn’t say anything.

As the game began again, Y/N found herself slipping into the rhythm of the party, though her thoughts were never far from the two men who seemed to loom like shadows over her evening. Every laugh, every drink, every fleeting glance across the room felt charged with an undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite name.

Eventually, she leaned toward Vernon and muttered, “Remind me again why I didn’t just stay on the roof?”

He smirked, his voice low. “Because you’re not the kind of person who disappears when things get messy.”

She sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I wish I was.”

For now, though, she decided to stay seated, letting the party swirl around her while she gathered the strength to face whatever unresolved tension the night still held.

“Y/N, come on.” Yuqi tugged at her arm, pulling her toward the group gathered near the couch. “We’re about to start the truth or dare—but with a twist! If you don’t want to answer or do the dare, you drink.”

Y/N hesitated, her grip tightening slightly on the cup in her hand. “Truth or dare? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” Yuqi said, grinning mischievously. “It’s the perfect way to spice things up. Seungkwan’s already set the rules, and people are starting to get brave.”

“No excuses!” Yuqi declared, practically shoving Y/N down on the couch next to Vernon, who looked amused but not at all surprised by Yuqi’s antics.

Y/N leaned toward him and muttered, “You��re supposed to be my escape plan. Why are you letting this happen?”

Vernon smirked, leaning back lazily. “You’ll survive. Besides, it’ll be fun to watch.”

The circle was a mix of familiar faces—Seungkwan, Hoshi, Mingyu, Yuqi—and a few others Y/N didn’t know as well. Seungcheol sat on the opposite side of the circle, his arms resting casually on his knees, but his gaze flicked to Y/N for a split second before looking away.

“Alright, rules are simple,” Seungkwan said, taking charge as usual. “Truth or dare. If you don’t want to answer or do the dare, you drink. No whining, no excuses.”

The game started lightheartedly, with Hoshi doing a ridiculous dance on a dare and one of Yuqi’s friends admitting to an embarrassing crush from years ago. The laughter eased Y/N into the mood, though her attention kept drifting between Mingyu, who was sitting a little too close to her, and Seungcheol, who seemed oddly quiet.

“Alright, Y/N,” Seungkwan said, his eyes gleaming as the bottle spun and landed on her. “Truth or dare?”

She hesitated, the weight of everyone’s attention pressing on her. “Truth.”

“Boring,” Yuqi teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Seungkwan ignored her and leaned forward, his grin wicked. “Who in this room do you think is the most attractive?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned as the group erupted in playful cheers and groans. Her eyes darted around the circle—Mingyu smirking confidently, Seungcheol looking down at his drink, Vernon raising an eyebrow like he was waiting to hear something interesting.

“Not answering that,” Y/N said quickly, lifting her cup and taking a long sip to the chorus of boos and laughter.

The game moved on, but the tension hung thick in the air, especially when the bottle eventually pointed to Mingyu.

“Dare,” he said, his voice firm, as if he was trying to prove a point.

Yuqi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Alright, I dare you to kiss the person you’re most interested in right now.”

A hush fell over the group, the room suddenly feeling smaller. Mingyu’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“I’ll drink,” Mingyu said abruptly, lifting his cup to his lips.

“No, come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy, Gyu.” Yuqi taunted him, Seunkwan joining in gesturing beside her and it was enough to make Mingyu stand up and hover over everyone who was sitting down, but he suddenly got scared and downed his drink and ran quickly to the bar to refill another one. 

By the time he got back Seungkwan was already spinning the bottle to put another victim on the spot. 

“Truth or dare?” Seungkwan asked.

“Truth,” Seungcheol said, his voice steady but low.

“Alright,” Seungkwan said, leaning forward. “What’s something you’ve done recently that you regret?”

The question felt loaded, and the room seemed to sense it. Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he thought, his eyes briefly flickering to Y/N before settling on his drink.

“I regret not saying what I should’ve said sooner,” he answered cryptically, taking a sip of his drink despite not needing to.

Y/N’s heart pounded, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest.

The circle had grown quieter, the earlier lighthearted mood replaced with something heavier. Sensing the awkwardness, Vernon leaned over to Y/N and murmured, “This game’s going downhill fast.”

She nodded, her mind too clouded with thoughts to respond. The next spin of the bottle felt irrelevant, her focus locked on the tension simmering between Seungcheol and Mingyu across the circle.

As the game moved on, the energy in the room shifted, but Yuqi wasn’t ready to let Mingyu off the hook so easily. She nudged him with a wicked grin.

“Come on, Mingyu,” Yuqi teased. “That was such a fucking cop-out. I dare you to actually follow through. What are you so scared of?”

Mingyu leaned back, smirking at her but clearly feeling the pressure. “I’m not scared,” he shot back.

“Then prove it.” Yuqi challenged, earning cheers and laughter from the group.

The room fell silent as Mingyu’s gaze flickered toward Y/N, who froze under his stare. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, the tension mounting with every passing second.

“Mingyu,” she started, her voice barely audible, but before she could finish, he leaned forward.

“I mean, a dare is a dare, right?” he said, his voice teasing but his eyes serious as they locked on hers.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—Mingyu leaned in with a confidence that made Y/N’s breath hitch. His hand lightly brushed her cheek, his lips soft but firm against hers. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to dissolve into nothingness, the cheers and gasps from the group fading into the background.

When he pulled back, the air between them felt charged, like a live wire sparking between them. Y/N blinked, her mind racing to process what had just happened.

“See?” Mingyu said, leaning back with a lopsided grin, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Not so scary.”

The room erupted in a mix of whoops and laughter, Yuqi clapping her hands triumphantly. “Finally. That’s what I’m talking about!”

But Y/N wasn’t laughing. Her heart was pounding, and her gaze flickered to Seungcheol. He sat completely still, his jaw tight and his eyes dark as he stared into his drink. The muscle in his jaw ticked as if he was fighting every instinct to react.

The weight of the moment crashed down on Y/N, her chest tightening. Mingyu’s kiss, Seungcheol’s reaction, the eyes of everyone in the room—it was too much.

“I need a drink,” she muttered, pushing herself up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen, her legs unsteady beneath her.

Behind her, she heard Yuqi say something to Mingyu, teasing him again, but Y/N couldn’t focus. Her mind was spinning, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

In the kitchen, she gripped the edge of the counter, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The moment replayed in her head, over and over, until she felt a presence behind her.

“You okay?” Vernon’s voice was soft, grounding her.

She turned to see him standing there, his usual calm expression slightly concerned.

“Not really,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vernon handed her a fresh drink without a word, and she accepted it gratefully.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “Mingyu’s always been bold, but that? That was something else.”

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“And Seungcheol…” Vernon trailed off, his eyes flickering toward the living room where the tension was still thick.

“Don’t, please,” Y/N said quickly, cutting him off. “I can’t think about that right now.”

He nodded like he’d expected her answer and stepped further into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter across from her, studying her carefully. “Want to get out of here?”

She blinked at him, startled. “What?”

“You heard me,” Vernon said, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “This party’s a shit show. You look like you need some air, and honestly, so do I. Let’s go to a bar or something. Anywhere but here.”

Y/N stared at him, caught off guard by the offer. “You’d leave? Just like that?”

“Why not?” he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “Not like I’m missing anything groundbreaking in there. And you seem like you could use a break from whatever the hell that was.”

She hesitated, glancing back toward the living room where laughter and music still spilled through the air. The idea of leaving—of stepping away from all the chaos and tension—sounded more tempting than she wanted to admit.

“I don’t know…” she started, her voice uncertain.

“Y/N,” Vernon cut her off gently, his tone steady. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now. You don’t even have to explain anything to me. But if you want to hit pause on this whole mess, I’m offering you an out.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She didn’t know if it was the kindness in his voice or the simplicity of his offer, but for the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe.

“Okay,” she said finally, nodding.

“Yeah?” he asked, his smile widening slightly.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Vernon straightened up, holding out his hand. “First round’s on me.”

She let out a soft laugh, slipping her hand into his. As they walked out of the kitchen together, Y/N didn’t bother looking back at the party. For now, the tension and confusion could wait. All she wanted was a moment of peace, and Vernon seemed like exactly the person to give her that.

The cold air seemed to lift some of the heaviness in Y/N’s chest as she and Vernon walked down the street. They didn’t talk much at first, their footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. But it wasn’t awkward—just easy, like it always was with him.

Vernon walked a little ahead, hands in his jacket pockets, his calm presence making the silence feel almost comforting. When he noticed her shivering, he stopped, pulled off his jacket, and handed it to her without a word.

“You really don’t have to,” she started, shaking her head.

“Just take it,” he interrupted, his tone casual. “It’s cold, and you’ll end up catching something.”

She hesitated for a second before slipping it on. His jacket was warm and smelled faintly like cedarwood and something unmistakably Vernon. She glanced over at him with a small smile. “Fine. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he replied, his lips curling into the smallest smile.

The two continued walking, their pace unhurried. The neon lights of the city reflected off the damp streets, and Y/N felt the tightness in her chest start to ease with every step.

“So,” she said after a moment, “do you make a habit of sneaking off with people at parties, or am I just lucky?”

“You’re lucky,” Vernon replied with a smirk, his voice light. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

She laughed softly, shoving her hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Noted.”

When they reached the corner, waiting for the light to change, Y/N glanced over at him, her curiosity bubbling to the surface. “Why’d you ask me to leave with you?”

He looked over, his expression as calm as ever. “You looked like you needed it.”

“And you?” she pressed, tilting her head slightly.

Vernon shrugged, his gaze flicking back to the crosswalk. “I didn’t really feel like being there either. Figured we could both use the escape.”

She studied him for a moment, something warm blooming in her chest. Vernon had always been like this—quiet, observant, and impossibly kind in the moments she needed it most.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

He turned to her, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For knowing when I need a break and for never asking too many questions,” she admitted, the corner of her mouth tugging up.

He smiled at that, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I just get it, you know? I’ve known you long enough to be able to tell.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability in his presence. She looked down at the pavement, letting his words sink in as the light changed and they crossed the street.

When they reached the bar, Vernon held the door open for her like he always did—small, easy gestures that never felt forced or out of place. The warmth inside hit her immediately, the quiet hum of conversation and clinking glasses a stark contrast to the chaos of the party.

They found a small table in the corner, and Y/N slipped out of his jacket, draping it over the back of her chair. She watched as Vernon flagged down a server and ordered a beer for himself before gesturing for her to order whatever she wanted.

“You feeling better?” he asked once the drinks arrived, his tone light but with a hint of concern.

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah. This is perfect. More my speed, you know?”

“Good, me too.” he said simply, leaning back in his chair.

There was a moment of quiet as they both sipped their drinks, the ease between them so familiar it felt like muscle memory. Y/N glanced at him, the warm light of the bar softening his features.

“You know,” she started, her voice quiet, “we don’t do this enough.”

“What, escape from parties together?” he teased, his lips quivering into a small smile.

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway. “Just get to hang out. You and me.”

Vernon looked at her, his gaze steady and unreadable for a moment before softening. “Yeah. We should fix that.”

Her heart fluttered in a way she tried to ignore, and she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, we should.”

As the night wore on and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, the unspoken feelings between them lingered, warm and subtle, like an old song neither of them was ready to sing just yet.

As Y/N sat at the small table across from Vernon, her phone buzzed relentlessly in her pocket. She hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, glancing at the screen. The group chat with Yuqi, Seungkwan, and Mingyu was lighting up.

Yuqi: Where the hell are you? Seungkwan: You disappeared and took Vernon with you?? Yuqi: Don’t make me come find you. Mingyu: Y/N, answer us.

She sighed, her thumb hovering over the screen to type back, but Vernon’s calm voice broke through her thoughts.

“Don’t,” he said softly, his gaze steady on her.

She looked up at him, a bit startled. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t answer,” Vernon replied, leaning back in his chair. “Just for tonight, let it go. They’ll survive without you for a few hours.”

Y/N frowned, her phone still buzzing in her hand. “But they’re probably worried, and Yuqi will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t—”

“They’ll be fine,” he said, cutting her off gently but firmly. “You’re not obligated to explain yourself every second of the day. If you want to talk to them later, that’s fine, but for now? Just be here.”

His tone was calm, but there was something grounding about it that made her pause. She looked at her phone again, the screen still lighting up with new messages. Slowly, she locked it and slid it back into her pocket.

“Better?” Vernon asked, his lips curving into a small smile.

“Better,” she admitted, leaning her elbows on the table.

He raised his glass, gesturing slightly toward her. “Good. Because you deserve a break too, Y/N.”

She studied him for a moment, her chest tightening with something she couldn’t quite name. He always seemed to know what she needed before she did, always so steady and sure in a way that made her feel lighter, like the weight she carried didn’t have to be all hers.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, his expression curious. “For what?”

“For this,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the space around them. “For being you, I guess.”

Vernon let out a soft laugh, his cheeks flushing slightly under the warm light of the bar. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now. And stop thanking me for everything.”

She grinned, her tension easing as the moment lightened. “Fine. You’re the fucking worst. Better?”

“Much,” he said with a smirk, raising his glass again.

They clinked their drinks together, the moment settling between them like an unspoken truce, a quiet escape from everything they’d left behind at the party. For the first time that night, Y/N let herself relax, the noise of her phone and the chaos of her thoughts fading into the background.

As Vernon took a sip of his beer, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. The bar hummed softly with the sound of laughter and quiet conversations, but their little corner felt secluded, as if the world had momentarily forgotten about them.

“So,” Vernon said, breaking the silence, “how’s it going with  everything?”

Y/N blinked at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a loaded question.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Figured I’d rip the Band-Aid off.”

She sighed, slumping slightly in her seat. “It’s been a lot to say the least. Mingyu and Seungcheol are driving me fucking insane, Yuqi’s trying to play referee, and I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of a reality show I didn’t sign up for.”

Vernon raised an eyebrow, resting his chin on his hand. “And what about you? How do you feel about all of it?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers stilling on the glass. “Honestly? I feel like I’m just there. Like I’m the thing they’re both fighting over, but no one’s asking me what I want. And it’s not like I’ve given them any reason to think there’s anything to fight over. I constantly tell everyone I’m not interested in dating, but they cant seem to let it fucking go.”

“That sounds exhausting,” Vernon said quietly, his gaze steady on her.

“It is,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not like I can just shut them out. They’re my friends.”

Vernon was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “You know, you don’t have to fix everything for everyone else. You’re allowed to set boundaries, even with your friends.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “You sound like you’ve had some practice with this.”

“Med school’s good for teaching you to prioritize,” he said with a small laugh. “If I didn’t learn how to say no, I’d have burned out by now.”

She smiled faintly, her heart twisting a little. “How is med school, by the way? You never really talk about it.”

“It’s intense, of course,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s what I’ve always wanted, you know? It’s worth the late nights and early mornings. Even if it means I’m not around as much.”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening. “We miss you, you know. I miss you.”

Vernon’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “I miss you too. I hate that I’ve been so busy, but it’s not because I don’t care. You’re important to me, Y/N. Always have been.”

Her breath caught for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a small smile. “I know. You’re important to me too, Vernon. That’s why it sucks not having you around to balance out all the chaos.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know how much balance I bring, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Y/N leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. “You bring a lot more than you realize. And honestly, I’m just glad you dragged me out of there tonight. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be fine, but you’d have to learn some better exit strategies on your own.” he said gently, though there was something in his voice that suggested he didn’t entirely believe it.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But I’d rather not find out.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of their words lingering between them. Y/N glanced down at her drink, her thoughts swirling.

“Have you ever thought about how weird it is?” she asked suddenly, her voice quiet.

Vernon frowned slightly. “What’s weird?”

“How we’ve always just clicked,” she said, looking up at him. “Even when we don’t see each other for months, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

He smiled faintly, his gaze warm. “That’s how it is with the people who matter. Time doesn’t change it.”

Y/N’s chest tightened again, and she looked away, the warmth of his words settling over her like a blanket. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is,” Vernon said softly. “At least with us.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just nodded, her mind swirling with unspoken thoughts.

After a moment, Vernon reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers briefly before he pulled back. “Let’s make a deal. No more drama tonight. Just this—quiet, no stress. Deal?”

Y/N smiled, her chest feeling a little lighter. “Deal.”

Vernon tilted his head back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting the bottle down on the table. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the edge, his signature calm expression lighting up with curiosity.

“Okay,” he said, his voice teasing but warm. “I’ve got a question for you.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow, swirling her straw around her drink. “What kind of question?”

“A burning question,” he replied with a grin. “One I’ve been dying to ask you all night.”

She smirked, leaning forward to match his energy. “Alright, hit me.”

“What,” Vernon began, pausing dramatically, “was going through your head when Mingyu kissed you earlier?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink, and Vernon’s laugh echoed through the small bar. “Oh, come the fuck on,” she said, laughing despite herself. “You’re really starting with that?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his grin widening. “You can’t drop that on me and not expect me to be curious.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Honestly? I didn’t even process it at first. It just happened so fast. And then I was so focused on the fact that everyone was watching that I couldn’t even think about how I felt.”

“Uh-huh,” Vernon said, nodding as if taking notes. “And now that you’ve had some time to think about it?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. Mingyu’s... Mingyu. He’s sweet, but it’s just more complicated, you know? I wouldn’t want to lose his friendship for a relationship that may not work out for whatever reason.”

Vernon’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” Vernon leaned back in his chair, his beer bottle spinning lazily between his fingers. “Alright, your turn. What was your real first impression of me?”

Y/N smirked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her drink. “You mean besides the fact that our moms completely embarrassed us at summer camp?”

Vernon groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Oh god, I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

“Forgotten? Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/N said, laughing as she leaned forward. “Your mom practically shoved you in front of me and said, ‘This is Vernon. He’s shy, but he’s very friendly once you get to know him.’”

“And then your mom jumped in and said, ‘Y/N loves making friends, don’t you, sweetheart?’” Vernon added, cringing at the memory.

Y/N nodded, her laugh ringing out. “I swear, I wanted to sink into the ground right then and there. But you—” She pointed at him, a teasing smile on her lips. “You just stood there with this blank look on your face like, ‘Is this really happening right now?’”

“I didn’t know what to say!” Vernon protested, laughing along with her. “What was I supposed to do? Our moms basically ambushed us.”

“You could’ve said something,” Y/N teased. “Instead, you just shrugged and said, ‘Cool.’”

“Hey, at least I wasn’t the one who tripped over my own flip-flops five minutes later,” Vernon shot back, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N gasped, feigning offense. “That was one time! And I was distracted because someone wouldn’t stop staring at the ground instead of making eye contact!”

Vernon laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. But seriously, what did you think of me back then?”

Y/N thought for a moment, her smile softening. “Honestly? I thought you were  kind of intimidating at first. You were so quiet and had that ‘too cool for everyone here’ vibe going on. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to be friends.”

Vernon raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “Me? Intimidating? I was the most awkward eight-year-old in the world.”

“You hid it well,” Y/N said with a grin. “But then, after a day of being forced to hang out because of our moms, I realized you were just as awkward as me. And I don’t know if you made me feel like I didn’t have to try so hard to fit in.”

Vernon’s smile softened, and he looked down at his beer. “You know, I felt the same way about you. I thought you were the cool one, though.”

Y/N snorted, nearly choking on her drink. “Me? Cool? Vernon, I fell in the lake trying to get a canoe off the dock on the first day.”

“Yeah, but you laughed about it,” Vernon said, his voice quiet but sure. “I think that’s when I realized you were different. Everyone else was always trying so hard, but you were just you.”

Y/N blinked at him, her chest tightening at his words. She tried to shake it off with a laugh, but the warmth in his eyes lingered in her mind. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing our moms embarrassed us that day. Otherwise, I might never have realized how awkward you are.”

“Awkward?” Vernon repeated, feigning offense. “I was charming. Admit it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Sure, Vernon. Charming.”

As the bartender slid another round of drinks onto the counter, Vernon’s phone began vibrating relentlessly against the wood. He glanced down, and the screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

Group chat messages from Seungkwan, Yuqi, Hoshi, and even Mingyu piled in:

Seungkwan: Where the fucccck are you guys??? Party’s wrapping up, we’re trying to have a group thing before everyone bails.

Yuqi: HELLOOO? Did you two run off and elope or what?

Hoshi: I’m drinking your share of soju if you’re not here in 5 mins.

Mingyu: Vernon, seriously, Y/N okay? People are asking questions.

But what really made Vernon’s stomach drop was the series of pings from an account he recognized as the unofficial “drama page” for their school. The caption of the latest post read:

“Things got steamy at tonight’s party. Who saw the Mingyu/Y/N kiss? 👀🔥”

Below it, there were blurry pictures of the kiss, clearly snapped by someone from across the room, with comments already piling up. Some were playful, others speculative, but a few were outright vicious:

“Y/N really gets around, huh?”

“Mingyu’s so obvious; he’s been into her forever.”

“What does Seungcheol think about all this?”

Vernon locked his phone immediately, sliding it face down on the bar. His jaw tightened slightly as he glanced at Y/N, who was oblivious to the chaos brewing in her absence. She was staring at the neon signs hanging above the bar, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass absentmindedly.

“You okay?” she asked suddenly, catching his gaze.

Vernon’s lips parted for a second as if debating how to respond. Then he smiled, easy and calm. “Yeah, just Seungkwan and Yuqi being their usual dramatic selves.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. “Let me guess. They’re yelling at us for disappearing?”

“Something like that,” he said, brushing it off casually. He didn’t want to risk her seeing those posts or the inevitable fallout they would bring. Tonight had been peaceful—he wasn’t going to let the drama ruin that.

“You want to head back?” Y/N asked, but there was a hesitance in her voice, like she wasn’t ready to dive back into the chaos just yet.

Vernon shook his head quickly, leaning forward on his elbows. “Nah. Let’s take our time. They’ll survive a little longer without us.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You’re not worried about them hunting us down and forcefully dragging us back?”

“I mean, they might try,” Vernon said with a small grin. “But honestly? I’m kind of enjoying not dealing with all the noise for a bit. Aren’t you?”

Y/N smiled at that, tilting her head. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s nice to just be, you know?”

“Exactly,” Vernon said, tapping his fingers on the table. He glanced at her half-empty drink and grinned. “Speaking of just being, I think you owe me an answer to my last question.”

“Oh, do I?” Y/N teased, raising her glass to her lips. “And what question would that be?”

“What you actually thought of my mom forcing you to take me as your date to the school dance,” Vernon said, steering the conversation back into lighter territory.

Y/N laughed, falling right into his distraction. As she began recounting yet another embarrassing story about their youthful days, Vernon felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew he couldn’t keep her insulated from the fallout forever, but for now, he could give her a little more time away from it all.

He picked up his phone again when she wasn’t looking, quickly typing a response to Seungkwan:

Vernon: We’re fine, just wanted to get away from the noise for a bit.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he turned his full attention to Y/N, letting her laughter pull him out of his thoughts. For now, this was enough.

As they walked back from the bar, the cold air nipping at their faces, Y/N tugged her jacket tighter around her, her hands buried deep in her pockets. Vernon glanced at her sideways, noticing how her steps slowed the closer they got to the apartment building.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the quiet of the nearly empty street.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I don’t think I want to go back yet.”

Vernon tilted his head, studying her carefully. “Because of the party or everything else?”

“Everything,” she admitted, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. “I just don’t feel like dealing with everyone’s questions or looks. You know how they all get. And with Mingyu, and Seungcheol, and probably half the party wondering what’s going on with me I just—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “I don’t want to face it tonight.”

He nodded, his expression calm and understanding. “Fair enough. So, what do you want to do?”

Y/N blinked at him, unsure. “I don’t know? Maybe never go back. Not yet.”

Vernon gave her a small smile. “Alright. Then don’t.”

She looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, stopping and turning to face her, “if you don’t want to go back, you don’t have to. You could come to my apartment instead. We’ll hang out, chill, whatever you need to get your mind off things. No pressure.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing toward their building in the distance. The thought of walking back into a room full of friends and unresolved tension made her chest tighten. But Vernon’s suggestion sounded like a much-needed escape.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Yeah, of course,” he said with a shrug. “My couch is comfier than it looks, and I’ve got snacks. What more could you want?”

A laugh bubbled out of her, easing some of the tension in her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here we are,” Vernon replied with a grin. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Y/N bit her lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They turned onto the path leading to his apartment building, the crisp night air filling the comfortable silence between them. But as they walked, Y/N’s phone vibrated in her pocket, the soft buzz breaking the momentary peace. She pulled it out, her brows furrowing when she saw the notifications.

One was from Mingyu: Mingyu: Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, especially not in front of everyone. I didn’t mean to make things weird for you. I was just caught up in the moment. 

And the other was from Seungcheol: Seungcheol: You okay? You disappeared. Just checking in.

Y/N stared at the messages, her stomach twisting. She hadn’t even begun to process what Mingyu’s kiss meant, and Seungcheol reaching out only added to the tangled mess of emotions swirling in her chest.

“Everything okay?” Vernon asked, noticing the shift in her expression.

She blinked, quickly locking her phone and shoving it back into her pocket. “It’s nothing. Just people checking in.”

Vernon gave her a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, he smiled softly and said, “Leave it for now. Let’s unplug for the rest of the night. You can deal with them tomorrow.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twitching toward her pocket, but eventually, she nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

By the time they reached Vernon’s apartment, the tension in her shoulders had eased slightly. He unlocked the door, gesturing for her to step inside, and she was instantly greeted by the warmth of the space.

“Make yourself at home,” Vernon said, tossing his keys onto the counter. “Want a drink? Tea? Water?”

“Tea sounds nice,” Y/N said, sinking onto the couch.

As Vernon busied himself in the kitchen, Y/N pulled out her phone again, rereading Mingyu’s and Seungcheol’s messages. She didn’t reply, but the weight of them lingered in the back of her mind.

“Here you go,” Vernon said, setting a mug of tea in front of her.

“Thanks,” she murmured, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

He sat down beside her, glancing at her carefully. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. For now, just be here.”

Y/N looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected. “Thanks, Vern. For this. For everything.”

“Anytime,” he said with a small smile.

And for the first time that night, Y/N let herself relax, knowing that at least for the moment, she didn’t have to face the chaos waiting for her outside.

As the night stretched on, Vernon stood up from the couch, stretching his arms with a quiet groan. Y/N was curled up on the other side, her legs tucked beneath her as she stared at the television with no real thoughts. She looked up when she noticed him moving, her eyes flickering to the clock on the wall.

“It’s late,” Vernon said softly, glancing at her. “You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, probably,” Y/N agreed, setting her phone down.

He motioned toward his room. “You take my bed. I’ll sleep out here.”

Y/N frowned immediately, leaning forward. “Vern, come on. You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re my guest,” he said with a playful shrug. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the couch. That’s, like, hospitality 101.”

“And where’s the part where you’re supposed to let me argue about it?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Not in this house.” He smirked, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

She rolled her eyes but stood, tucking her phone into her pocket. As she moved toward the door to his room, she hesitated, glancing back at him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now.

“Yeah?”

“Would it be weird to ask, or like would you mind if we just, like, shared the bed?” she asked, her tone careful but casual. “You know, like when we were kids and we’d end up squished together in bunk beds on family vacations.”

Vernon blinked, surprised by her suggestion. “Are you sure?”

Y/N shrugged, though there was a slight blush creeping up her neck. “Yeah. I mean,I don’t really feel like being alone tonight.”

His lips curved into a small smile, and he nodded. “Okay. If it makes you feel better, I don’t mind.”

They walked into his room together, the faint warmth of his space instantly wrapping around them. Y/N slipped off her jacket and kicked off her socks, climbing into his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. Vernon followed, staying on his side as he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

“It’s a little comfier than I remember,” Y/N said, settling in.

“Well, you’re not eight years old anymore, so you probably fit better now,” Vernon teased, earning a soft laugh from her.

“True,” she admitted, turning onto her side to face him. “But you still hog all the space.”

“Not my fault you’re tiny,” he countered, grinning.

Y/N smirked, nudging his arm lightly. “I’m not tiny. You’re just a giant.”

They fell into an easy rhythm of light banter, the tension of the evening slowly melting away. As the quiet of the room settled in, Vernon glanced over at her, her profile illuminated faintly by the streetlights outside the window.

“Feel better?” he asked softly.

Y/N nodded, her voice almost a whisper. “Yes. I finally do.”

“Good,” he murmured.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the quiet between them comfortable and familiar. And just like when they were kids, it didn’t take long for the weight of the day to fade as they drifted into sleep side by side, the unspoken closeness of their friendship grounding them both.

The morning sunlight cut through the curtains sharply, pulling Y/N from a restless sleep. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, before realizing she was still in Vernon’s bed. He lay beside her, sprawled out on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting on his chest. The calm rise and fall of his breathing contrasted with the chaos that greeted her when she reached for her phone.

The screen lit up, and her heart immediately sank. Notifications were flooding in from every app.

Her group chat with Yuqi, Seungkwan, and Hoshi was ablaze:

Yuqi: Y/N, what the actual hell? WHERE ARE YOU?

Seungkwan: You left us in the middle of a disaster. Mingyu and Seungcheol almost fucking killed each other after you bailed.

Hoshi: They started yelling after you and Vernon left. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!

Yuqi: You and Vernon left together, didn’t you? People are talking. A LOT. Like, literally even our phones are blowing up about it.

Seungkwan: This whole thing is a fucking mess. Please tell me you’re okay and not caught up in it.

Y/N sighed heavily, scrolling past their messages to her notifications from Instagram and Twitter. The drama pages were out of control. Pictures and videos from the party had gone viral overnight.

One blurry photo showed Mingyu leaning in to kiss her during the game. The caption read: Did anyone else totally not see this coming? Or am I just an idiot?

Another post showed Seungcheol and Mingyu standing off later in the evening, their tension palpable. What’s going on here? Battle for the heart? 👀

And then there were the posts about her and Vernon:

A grainy video of them leaving the bar together was captioned: Forget Mingyu and Seungcheol—Y/N left with Vernon?? Plot twist of the century. We should all start placing bets on it.

There were also speculative tweets:

Y/N really upgraded from that mess to Vernon? Honestly, good for her. Seungcheol’s brooding and Mingyu’s impulsive, but Vernon? Stable king. I’m rooting for this one. Is it just me, or does Y/N seem to have all three wrapped around her finger? Good for her. 

Her phone buzzed with new texts.

Mingyu: Y/N, I’m so sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please just let me explain.

Seungcheol: Are you okay? Please talk to me. I need to know you’re alright.

She groaned, her thumb hovering over the lock screen. It was too much—too many opinions, too many assumptions, and too many emotions she didn’t know how to process.

“Morning,” came Vernon’s groggy voice, pulling her attention. She turned to see him rubbing his eyes, his hair even messier than the night before. He yawned, then looked at her with a small, sleepy smile.

“Morning,” she said, trying to sound normal, but her voice cracked under the weight of everything on her mind.

He noticed her tense posture and the way her phone screen was lighting up non-stop. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice low but concerned.

She hesitated before handing him her phone. He scrolled through the messages and posts, his jaw tightening slightly.

“Well,” he said dryly, “this is a disaster.”

“You think?” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “ I don’t know how to deal with this right now.”

Vernon set her phone down and looked at her seriously. “You don’t have to deal with it, not yet. Let them talk. Let them speculate. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

“I don’t even know what I’d say,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mingyu kissed me, Seungcheol’s mad, and now apparently the entire world thinks we’re a thing. I guess they got into a fight? Like what the fuck. Maybe parties are a bad idea like my Grandma always said.”

Vernon smirked slightly, leaning back against the headboard. “To be fair, we domake a pretty good team.”

His attempt at humor made her crack a small smile, even as her chest tightened with stress. “Yeah, but that’s not what this is, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “But seriously, Y/N, ignore this shit. You don’t have to face this mess until you’re ready.”

Y/N nodded, though the knots in her stomach didn’t ease. “I feel like I owe you one.”

“Always, but no pressure. I don’t plan on getting into any trouble.” he said with a reassuring smile.

The sunlight spilled across the bed, the warmth of his presence grounding her amidst the chaos. But even as she tried to push the drama to the back of her mind, the thought of returning to the fallout lingered like a storm on the horizon.

note: hi!! a litttle bonus chapter to give u before i upload the next party probably tomorrow?? or this weekend :) just a taste of what the party was like and what happened and what y/n is going thru next (rip my girls mental health fr.)

taglist: @minhui896@sun-daddy-yoriichi@luchiet@miles-sketchbook@kissesfrmwonwoo@readerlozies@vcutparis@mxnhoeuwu@writingbarnes@headlockimnida@odxrilove@jeonghaniehaee@bath1lda @wonwootakemyheart @dokyomis@hanniesdegree @blvkkeddcc@gyuguys@rakshithanotrao @multiplumes @jihoonsbbygirl

[venacoeurva]

Also this version

[tonycries]

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) - G.S.

Synopsis. Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pànty-stealer! roommate! Gojo, annoyances-to-lovers, he’s REALLY down bad, vírgin! Gojo, oraI (fem receiving), màle màsturbation, pining, face-sítting, jealousy (his side), fírst times, unprotected, creampíe, teary Gojo, pànty-gagging, HEINOUS things, pet names, aIcohol mentions, swearing.

Word count. 8.6k (whoopsies)

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week hehe <3

“Damn…” you sigh at the glaringly empty drawer, rubbing your eyes as if that would make a difference - maybe even magically materialize a fresh pair of panties in front of you. “It’s the second time this month.”

Or was it the third?

But, alas, standing around in your bedroom on a Sunday night does not give you the answers. Or any extra underwear.

Which is why you find yourself making a beeline for the bathroom - teeth gritted, stomach flipping at how very, very exposed you felt underneath the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing everything from the building’s rundown old washing machine to Gojo’s stupid smile when he took away your laundry basket.

You could’ve sworn you saw your last pair perched right on top of your pile of old clothes, all flimsy and an obscene red that stood out amongst everything else. 

Seriously, how hard would it have been to lose that thing? Maybe you could bother him into buying a new washing machine for-

“Woah there-” Before you know it, you’re crashing face-first into a wall? Pillows? Gojo - unfairly shirtless. “Now, what’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?”

The lack thereof. 

Maybe because you can’t say that, maybe because of what looks - feels - like miles upon miles of milky, sculpted skin, you’re instead settling for an extremely eloquent, “Nothing I uh-” But whatever excuse catches in your chest as you raise your face - still smushed between two large pecs - up, up, up and-

Oh. 

It’s not like you’re seeing something new - far from it, actually, unfortunately for your poor heart.

And at first, you’d thought it was some strange habit - hell, maybe the guy just didn’t like t-shirts. But it was around the fourth or fifth time he’d forgone one that you realized Gojo Satoru was just a tease. A no-good, insufferably smug tease that just loved to catch you ogling him. 

But, well, at least the rent was cheap.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about the view either…

Because lo and behold stood the infamous campus sweetheart - you knew about fourteen people who’d kill to see this exact sight. Gojo’s cloudy hair tousled, tiny droplets of water twinkling like diamonds against the bathroom light. Bouncing off his rippling abs, his strong arms circling your waist to stop you from falling backwards. Holding you too fucking close against the white towel slung low on his hips. His skin damp, smelling so delicious-

“Gojo, did you use my body lotion?” 

“Awww–” he whines, finally releasing his grip on you. “You were supposed to admire me some more.”

You scoff, eyes darting over broad shoulders - partially to search for your laundry basket, partially because you really couldn’t handle looking right at a shirtless Gojo Satoru any longer. “As if. Get out if you’re done.”

“Damn, woman. Feisty.” Gojo lets out a deep chuckle - smooth and cocky - when you’re hastily shoving him away from the doorframe. “If you wanted to put your hands on me that bad then you jus’ hafta ask, y’know~”

It was way too late for this. 

“Hilarious.” you deadpan, though you let go of where you were gripping Gojo’s arm like it burned. Immediately stepping behind the bathroom door before he could make you lose whatever’s left of your sanity, “Next time you hog the bathroom m’gonna smash those ugly new sunglasses of yours.”

He’s pressing his foot between that gap in the door to stop you from closing it, “Oi, don’t think I don’t see that glint in your eyes, sweetheart.” Yeah, the glint in your eyes that told you if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under already. Which only makes him grin wider, “You’re telling me you really weren’t checkin’ out the most sought-after man on campus jus’ now?”

Huffing in frustration, you cross your arms, “I don’t see Geto Suguru anywhere.”

“...you take that back right now. I’m the pretty best friend.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Am not. Isn’t that why you’re still single?”

“Th-that’s not- fuckin’ Suguru? Really? Most people would kill for a look of this-” Gojo gestures at his bare torso, and once more you’re reminded that those absolutely awful protein shakes he makes every morning aren’t just for show. “-and you’re getting it daily.”

You reach out a hand, Gojo chest hot underneath your touch. He seizes up instantly, ears tinging red as you muse, “Yeah.” Only to push him fully out the doorway, “I just wish you’d shut up daily, too.”

With that, you’re shutting the door with a resounding slam! Feeling only slightly guilty until you hear Gojo’s squawks of protest from outside, “I really don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist.”

Right. Panties.

Something just a tad more important than recounting exactly how many abs Gojo Satoru had.

You let out a shuddering breath, clamoring to find that spare laundry basket you’d forgotten in here earlier today. Shuffling through through the soft clothes, hoping, praying to find-

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Fuck. 

Somehow, you’re hiding away your body lotion that night.

---

“Now, listen here, sweetheart. I know you look fuckin’ gorgeous in everything but-”

“Satoru.”

“But that-” he whirls around, pointing a long finger accusingly at the boxers you’d improvised into sleep shorts. Spitting venomously, “-that I cannot allow.”

You’re rolling your eyes at your roommate’s theatrics, forking through your pancakes while he monologues to himself more than you. “Why does it even matter? It was just for yesterday.” you mutter. “I didn’t have any clean uh- panties for the night n’ this worked.”

Thankfully, since the fresh laundry this morning, you’d found two more of your panties - courtesy of a very smug Gojo handing off your clothes. Ah, it felt like the universe itself was smiling down on you.

But oh if you thought the great Gojo Satoru was having a breakdown before then you weren’t prepared for when you lifted your gaze off the kitchen table. Only to meet his - eyes wide, a pretty pink blush coloring his cheeks, lips gawking and stuttering around what looked like a silent, “P-panties-”

You raise a brow, “What’s got you this worked up, Gojo?”

“Nothing.” he clears his throat, “Absolutely nothing at all. Panties? I love- er, wait no-”

“B-besides-” you bristle at the way his heavy gaze was now turning to flit between your face and down below. Dangerously. “They’re not even yours so I don’t know why it matters.”

This seems to snap him out of his little reverie, and he’s immediately standing up straighter, brows furrowing. He continues, in a much more serious tone than before, “They’re his?” 

You stab your breakfast with a bit too much vitriol than necessary, looking at Gojo with narrowed eyes, “If you mean the one my ex left behind then yes. Who else?”

Your ex wasn’t good for much - and Gojo seemed especially hostile towards him because of his distaste for your little living situation. But, hey, at least the guy was helping you out at this time. Albeit unknowingly. 

He’s raising his hands in mock-surrender, shuffling back into the kitchen to work on the rest of those “world famous” Gojo pancakes. “Nothing nothing.” he hums, and maybe it was how sleep-deprived you were - running on a few too many assignments due today and a few too little panties - but you think Gojo’s voice has a bit more bite to it than usual. Jaw clenching as he plows on, “Of course that fucker- in my- our apartment, too. Fuck-”

A spatula is suddenly mere inches from your face, Gojo brandishing it in front of you like a weapon as he declares, “We’re going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture today.”

“Gojo, I-”

“We-” he cuts you off, delicately placing another pancake on your plate - a little truce. So close now that it reminds you of last night - you could feel his minty breath on your face, count every long, sultry eyelash of his. “-are going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture n’ I’m paying. That’s final.”

And of course, in true Gojo fashion, you can barely get a word out before he’d immediately ducking out of the kitchen. You almost let your lips curl into a smile, hit with a sudden wave of endearment as you hear Gojo’s long legs padding urgently down the hallway to God-knows-where. Maybe he did know when to be-

Smack!

You jolt as you’re hit with a pair of boxers - fresh ones, thankfully, that you recognized from all the clothes you’d rummaged through last night - plopped unceremoniously onto your lap. Jaw dropping in disbelief when you look up to meet Gojo’s devilish grin. 

“Next time-” he winks, motioning at the fabric you were poking in concern now. “-wear mine.”

The talk of Yaga’s lecture hall that morning was of a pair of burned boxers found right outside your building, everyone speculating what the poor guy had done to have his presumed girlfriend make an example of it like that. 

For you, however, the only thing running through your mind was whether or not you could count properly.

Because surely you remembered it correctly when you counted two new underwear this morning - that gauzy black one and the deep red? Two. Definitely not the singular, sad piece of red fabric laying on your bed after breakfast today? Two. The only one you could find even after scouring through your whole bedroom. 

So where the fuck had that other one gone?

---

(8+ new messages)

Do not answer (roomie)🧿🧿: Hurry up ive been lurking inside that lingerie shop ya told me you liked n’ now the old ladies here look like they wanna eat me alive ＼(º □ º l|l)/

im boooored, gonna stand still n’ start blending in with these mannequins if you dont hurry up istg

Hurry

HURRY

HURRY THEY THINK IM SUSPICIOUS

PLEASE THEYRE GONNA ESCORT ME OUT

┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ i literally SEE YOU outside 

BITCH STOP LAUGHING-

No sooner are you letting out a cackle at Gojo’s rapid-fire texts, you’re looking up to see the man himself being walked outside by two security guards. Squabbling heatedly in a way that had them heaving out long sighs - which, honestly, you felt a stab of relatable empathy for.

“-I swear I’m not a creep I’m jus’-” Gojo’s bickering dies on his tongue as he catches the sight of you walking closer to the commotion. Closer. Taking your sweet sweet time, eyes just barely glazing over him before- you’re walking away. “Hey!” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “Now, don’t you dare-” Before turning back to his wary escorts, “I’m with her.”

They exchange a look between each other, and no matter how much you’d like to pretend the scene had absolutely nothing to do with you - you’d rather Gojo doesn’t get banned from the mall altogether. 

“He’s right.” you drone out, one hand grabbing Gojo’s, the other forcing his head into an apologetic bow. Hissing to the side so that only he would hear, “Unfortunately.”

The two security guards now seem more amused than anything at your strange dynamic. One of them raises a brow, muttering, “Well…this one’s certainly a handful.” Turning around to head back to their stations, “Ya better keep a tight leash on your boyfriend.”

You sputter, eyes wide, “Oh- he’s not-”

But it’s too late - they’re both swiftly out of earshot, most likely more than happy to hand over the public nuisance off to you. And Gojo’s looking to you with a smug smirk, voice dropping about an octave deeper as he breathes against your ear, “So, gonna take your boyfriend to help out with lingerie shopping, sweetheart?”

Oh. God. 

This was going to be one long day.

“I’m only here because another one of mine disappeared, y’know.” you hiss, rifling through all the options before you. “Which really has me wondering why-”

“H-hey! How about this one?” Gojo interrupts, shoving a lacy set right in front of your face, his voice just a bit louder than what was appropriate. 

You sigh, catching the eyes of a few disapproving older women around you. “No this is-” But running a thumb over the fabric makes you bite back an insult. And for all how brash Gojo was, maybe his panty selection wasn’t awful. It was a flimsy little thing, gauzy and light blue - the type you’d typically wear on a night out. You meet his boyish grin, admitting, “...not bad.”

“See?” he laughs - eyes glinting with delight as he piles on a few more in your basket. “N’ if you’re impressed with that then you’re gonna be proposing to me when you realize it’s exactly your size-”

You quirk a brow, “How do you know my size, Gojo?”

And this makes his body stiffen, large shoulders squaring up, throat bobbing as he answers,“Uh? Experience?”

Oh, right. You’re rolling your eyes, fighting off a weird little stab of irritation. This probably isn’t the first time he’s come here with a girl, anyway. 

And yet, despite however much of an alleged “catch” Gojo was, he’d - perhaps mercifully - never brought anyone over. You don’t know why, but you didn’t really want to question it.

“A-anyway.” Gojo’s airy voice cuts through your thoughts. And he’s plucking up a few more sets of lingerie for you to sort through, “Can’t let these one, two, three- six lovely lil’ things go to waste now, can we?” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, guiding the two of you to the counter now. “Suguru’s holding a party at his place tonight, how would you like to do the honors of being my cute plus one?”

“I’d rather go with Yaga.”

Though, you really can’t say no - not when Gojo’s flashing you that black card as he pays for everything in an instant. Not when all he can prattle about on the way home  is how gorgeous you’d look together at Geto’s party - how you’ll have to beat everyone off of him with a stick (to which you reply that you’d no sooner do that than beat him with a stick.)

Not when he sits outside your bedroom door as you get ready later that night. Insisting on keeping you company even as you slip out of your towel. Looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t peeking in before eagerly turning to grab at one of your new set of silky white panties- only, they weren’t there.

Strange. 

“Hey, Gojo…” you call out, looking underneath your blankets for where you might’ve thrown them about after trying them on. Under your bed, in your drawers, anywhere. “-didn’t we buy six sets?”

“Huh? Dunno, I didn’t count. Just wear the blue one.” he whines, ushering you to hurry up from outside. Face burning because shit, this was you and you were inside - still wrapped up in only that sinful little towel. Oh, would the painful death really be worth it if he happened to accidentally look around? “S’pretty and y’know what else?”

Your voice was muffled as you hastily put on your clothes, “What?”

“It matches my eyes.”

Really strange.

---

Thankfully for Gojo, you didn’t go with Yaga to the party - nor did you find your lost pair of panties, sadly, but that wasn’t too much of a concern for him. 

And here he was - one hurried Uber ride and about several billion death threats from you later. Wishing that you’d actually just acted on one of them because fuck at least then he wouldn’t have to be watching from across the room as some bastard from the university basketball team tried to chat you up.

Gojo can’t even hear the way the girls surrounding him were giggling about something or the other, alcohol making his tongue a little heavier, eyes a bit glassier. 

Nothing like the way that other man was drinking in that polite smile on your face. Tilting your head to face forwards and- God, why won’t you just look at him instead?

Would that guy still look at you that way if he knew you were wearing lingerie matching his eyes right now?

“Not gonna entertain your fans?” Geto’s voice rings through his whirlwind thoughts, eyeing down the forgotten crowd in amusement.

“When have I ever?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair in frustration. 

He lets out a knowing laugh, “Yeah, you little vir-” Turning into a coughing fit when Gojo elbows his best friend straight in his stomach. “Anyways.” Geto gestures with his drink in your direction, as if Gojo hadn’t seen - as if it wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. “Well, your lil’ roomie there seems to be popular, too, huh? Star player of the basketball team n’ all. 

He clicks his tongue, slumping further against the thumping wall. “So? I’m taller, and more handsome.”

“Are you sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-yeah?” he sputters. 

“Well then why aren’t you over there with her?” Geto hums, lips curling. “Looks t’me like even she doesn’t like him that much so why’re you being a pussy over here? Always sneaking around stealing her-” 

“Shut up-” And Gojo knows he’s riling him up, he knows that Geto wants to see a little drama - maybe finally shut up his pining over the one girl he’s wanted for the past year - and couldn’t have. It’s a trap. But Gojo can’t stop his head from snapping between you and his best friend’s sly smirk. Slurring indignantly, “Of course I’m fuckin’ handsome, n’ taller. I’d make a better boyfriend too and-” He trails off at the sight of that loser leaning in - but more importantly that tiny furrow in your brows, your hands on his chest softly keeping him at bay. “-and m’gonna go over there n’ prove it.”

“Ah, that loser’s gonna thank me later.”

And, hell, Gojo could barely even walk. Barely even think straight as he’s parting the stuffy living room, ignoring whatever whispers and titters were following him. 

“I said no-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” you jump when someone - Gojo - creeps up from behind you. Large build hanging off your own when he nuzzles his face into your neck. And you could feel his toothy grin on your skin, “Missed me?”

Your face burns, “I uh-” Angling your face as dignifiedly as possible to face your roommate, “Gojo, are you drunk?”

“Drunk on you, yes.”

“What the-”

The man in front of you pipes up - shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “Didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.” Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but under the scrutiny of Gojo Satoru. His big arms tightening around your middle - when did they even get there? “I’ll just uh- get out of your way, man.”

“Mhm, by the way,” Gojo puffs up his chest a bit, clearly towering over the other man - ha, take that Suguru. “Nice loss against Kyoto last week, real knee-jerker.” 

You smack Gojo’s chest at his rudeness, to which he only smiles wider. Watching the other man being swiftly handled away by another apologetic member of the basketball team.

“Gojo.”

And before you can react, Gojo’s dragging his pretty plump lips along where that light blue band of your bra was just peeking out, murmuring lowly, “Love it when you scold me like that.” Still refusing to let go of you despite the jealous looks thrown your way, “Let’s go home, my girl.”

Oh, the look on your face was priceless. 

He just wished he could fish out his phone and record, or maybe even tell Geto to take a picture - help him make it his wallpaper. And he did - over fifteen times, in fact, as the two of you helped drag him away from the thrumming party. Geto doesn’t listen, of course, and you neither do you - grumbling out a slew of profanities underneath your breath that makes the Uber driver look at the two of you weird.

And yet, Gojo’s biggest issue right now was trying to climb up these fucking stairs - not when they were trying to run away from him. 

“I swear to God, Gojo-” you huff, chest heaving under the weight of walking - well, more like dragging - your roommate up to your apartment. Knees wobbly - maybe at the intensity of his cologne, maybe at the way his biceps were flexing on your shoulders, probably at how fucking useless he was. Damn lightweight. “You better cover my rent for the next year for this.”

“Of course I will~” his hot breath tickles your ear, “Anything for m’girl. I’ll take care of us forever, don't you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart clenches - just a little bit. And if you’re slamming open Gojo’s bedroom door with a little more force than necessary, well, at least he’s a bit too impaired to nag at you about it.

He bounces lightly when you throw him on his plush mattress, giggling softly, “You should just join me, y’know. Have a little sleepover.”

“Drop dead.” you monotone, not even daring to look back at him while you shuffle through Gojo’s shirts. Throwing one over your shoulder at him, “N’ wear this, I just know you’ll complain about messing up your favorite button-up tomorrow morning.”

“Aww, you always take care of me so well, my girl~”

That familiar little nickname makes a shiver run down your spine, and it’s all you can do to concentrate on shuffling through Gojo’s drawers in search of his shorts. Absent-mindedly reaching for the lowest drawer and-

“Wait!” 

You jump, whirling around to catch Gojo sitting up ram-rod straight on the bed, eyes wide, hand reaching out as if to stop you. Swallowing thickly, you ask. “Gojo?”

And he jolts - like the very sound of your voice is sending electricity zapping through his veins. Abruptly scrambling off the bed before resting two hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you away from the drawer. “My shorts are uh- in my wardrobe, heh. Sorry about that.”

Furrowing your brows at the sudden twist, you squirm in his grasp to look at the drawer again. Failing - when Gojo keeps his grip steadfast, “Why’re you acting so-” 

“How about we order take out? My treat?”

And that night, tucking yourself into bed, you should be falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You should be caring less about that strange little outburst of Gojo’s inside his room. You should have realized sooner - those light blue panties you’d worn tonight were gone. No longer in your hamper of old clothes.

And there was only one thing to do. 

---

Gojo thinks he shouldn’t - fuck he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even want to- well, that last bit was a lie.

Gojo Satoru first met you about a year ago, when you’d come knocking at his door asking about his ad for a roommate. It was more because he was bored inside this big apartment by himself than anything, really, but here you were all gorgeous and sweet, flashing him a smile that was burned into his mind for the rest of the week, at the very minimum. How could he ever say no?

And when you’d taken to walking around the apartment in those slutty lil’ shorts as a way to get back at his perpetual shirtless-ness? Thin panties just peeping out of the low hem? 

God, it was everything he could do to not run to the bathroom with each little glimpse. He was fucked, so very embarrassingly fucked. 

He just never thought it would get to this point - the first time had been an accident, honestly. When your laundry had gotten mixed up with his. Surely he didn’t remember having such a cute pair of pink panties in his closet? And surely it didn’t mean anything if he just-so-happened to stash them away, right?

At least, that’s what Gojo told himself the first time. And the second. And the third. And shit, it was a bit of an addiction now, and within a year of rooming with you, he’d accumulated a drawer stuffed guiltily with exactly what he shouldn’t be having. 

Gojo Satoru - insufferable campus sweetheart, the dreamy first place on everyone’s To-Fuck list - had been hoarding away your pretty panties. Like the pathetic virgin he pretends he isn’t. 

And so here he was - that dirty little drawer flung open, pants pulled down just enough, one hand flat on the flat surface to steady himself, while the other fisted desperately around his swollen cock - and one of your panties. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart.” he’s hissing, body shuddering in lewd little tremors at that torturous drag of fabric down his length. Squeezing at his thick base, moving fast - filthy up, up, up to thumb along the end of his sopping slit. “Feels s’good- too fucking good hngh-”

Such a pretty, wet gasp escapes him when your soaked, absolutely ruined underwear catches on his veins, tangling around his sensitive shaft. And he’s biting his lip, trying not to make a noise when he threads through the mess down below. 

“Oh fuck, yer killin’ me even when you’re ngh- not here.” he breathes unsteadily, weaving the sticky fabric around his long fingers. Tight - just how he knew you would. “S’like you know what you do t’me with these.”

They were your blue ones, this time - the ones from just last night. The ones you were wearing not even a full day ago. And Gojo has them wrapped daintily around his rock-hard cock, stark against the blushing red at his fat head. Already so drenched in precum as he fucks his fist. 

“Y’looked so p-pretty with these, sweetheart.” he groans over the wet fwip! fwip! fwip! Eyes rolling to the back of his head with each long, feverish stroke. “So pretty being mine. Ngh- so pretty in my- fuck.” 

Slam!

He’s hitting his palm facedown on the wood, knees buckling, eyes scrunching shut with pleasure. 

And that ruined, utterly depraved part of Gojo wonders whether next time he should steal your bras too? Have the full set of you proudly wearing his color like some secret little slut for him. 

He’s letting out a ragged little laugh, oh how cute you’d look all confused. Nipples hard through your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt while you looked around for them. While you asked him for help. 

Oh, just the thought of that has Gojo’s red, furious cock beading glossy drops of precum at his tip. Leaking a sinful, slippery sheen down his wrist. “Ah.” he lets out a guttural groan when his angry dick twitches in his hand, falling onto his elbow on the drawer. Not having the strength - or the sanity - to keep himself up anymore. “Look what you’ve-” Gojo’s eyes catch sight of a flash of red inside, sounding so wrecked. “Look what you’ve done.”

And those obscene red panties are snatched up by his free hand in a second, not even a second wasted before Gojo’s bringing them up to his face. 

Fuck. 

“Look what you’ve done. Look how ngh- filthy you’ve made me.” he whines, muffled. Hips fucking up in quick, uncontrollable little thrusts into his closed fist. Voice a pitch higher as he spits out embarrassing little accusations, “How pathetic. Gettin’ fuck- gettin’ off to this? Me of all hah- people like this? Can’t imagine how f-fucking mad you’d be.”  

Would you figure out it was him? Would you look in his drawer again? Teach him a lesson or two about being such a pathetic little pervert for his roommate. 

Maybe - just maybe - if Gojo plays his cards right, gets on his knees and begs for mercy, then you’d let him keep his little treasure. 

He throws his head back in a humorless little laugh when his aching hand slows down to languid, unforgivable tugs. He had time, anyway, your classes ended late today. Torturous - exactly the way he imagines you’d drive him mad. “Heh- wish this was you.”

You’d be so much meaner, pressing down on that little divot at his tip, flicking teasingly like you were trying to fuck out something delicious. You’d be running your nails down his achy veins, running your soft palms around his painful balls. 

You’d whisper, “This all you got, Toru?”

“Oh fuck!” Gojo moans, raspy little sounds of what sounds like your name filtering through the crevices of his fingers, your panties. “Fuck fuck fuck- gonna cum.” he whines. Heavy balls smacking back into his thighs with each thrust into your imaginary hand. How he wished you were here. He’s managing to wrench his eyes open to spy down at his sloppy cock - needing to see how your cute lil’ panties would look painted all white for him. How he wished you- “Gonna-”

Oh. Fuck. 

You. 

“Aw, why stop now, Gojo?”

You’re leaning against Gojo’s open bedroom door, flashing him such a sultry little smirk. Your voice almost a purr when you echo, “I said…” Before taking two long steps to where he stood frozen, “Why stop now?”

Gojo lets the damp fabric held up to his face drop in guilt - yet the other stays firmly wrapped around that hand cock of his still in hand. 

“S-sweetheart what are you- why-” And perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has terrorized this planet, he’s speechless. Worry-bitten lips sagging open stupidly, “I- this is-”

You cut him off, “So you’re the panty thief.” So close now that Gojo’s dick was throbbing at each heave of your chest, the way you were squeezing your thighs together. Eyes sliding down his body to rest at the mangled mess of your all-new panties around his painfully hard cock. “I knew it.”

“I can explain-”

“All those times pretending to help me?” you bat your lashes in a way that makes him gulp. Words dripping with the same tease he’d imagined in daydreams just like this. “When you were the pervert stealing my panties? Are you even ashamed?”

Gojo flushes an innocent pink, excuses tumbling out of those pretty lips immediately. But they sound like lies even to him.

“This- ngh-” he’s rolling his hips forward when you slide a smaller finger down his arm, between his pecs, almost the way down to those tufts of white. “Fuuuck- y-you’re not mad? Are ya the devil herself cuz you’re gonna- ngh- kill me this way.”

Humming, “Class was canceled, but of course - don’t hah- stop on my account, Gojo.”

“Toru.” he’s gasping out, a low moan wrenching out of him when he’s bowing his body into his fist again. Squeezing - almost warningly - at his hilt. “C-call me Toru. Please.”

And fuck he could’ve cum right then and there at that devilish little smile you give him, biting down on your lower lip - inches from his that it felt like you were biting down on his. Maybe you were, shit Gojo didn’t even know right now. 

“Toru.”

That’s all it takes for Gojo’s lips to be crashing onto yours. Biting back a little whimper at the messy clash of teeth, of spit, because one taste of your candied lips and he was already so addicted. 

“Mmpf-” Gojo gasps, chasing hotly after your lips. Eyes half-lidded to watch the snapping of those delicate strings of saliva, “You’re- you’re so-” And he’s way too impatient to get out his words, licking heatedly at the slit of your mouth. Over and over and over-  “As bad as me- ngh-”

“Are ya sure about that?” you grin, cunt clenching at your roommate’s pained grunt when you pull away. “Because look-”

And the both of you are stuck on the way Gojo’s moving again, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like he didn’t even feel the way his leaky tip was smearing along the front of your sinfully short skirt. 

“Can’t help it.” he whines, kissing down your neck. Hips urging forwards to slip up the thigh-length fabric, and when you don’t pull away, Gojo drags your skirt up, up, up with his pulsing length, “You don’t know what you do to me- fuck.”

His jaw falls slack, ogling at the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him. Already so glossy with your sweet sweet juices, needy between your restless thighs. Bare. 

And this might be the first time he’s seen a cunt in real life but Gojo already knows - he already feels - that she’s gonna be the death of him. 

Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging. “What the fuck-” Gojo breathes - more to himself than anything. “What the fuck what the-” Bringing down his free hand to run the pads of his long fingers along your puffy folds, as if to confirm whether this was real. “-fuck! Going out like this? You’re even dirtier than me, huh?.” 

“What can I do?” Sliding your arms around his broad shoulders, palms running along the heated skin. Back arching to grind down on his hand, “Someone stole all my panties.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, because Gojo doesn’t hesitate for even a second before he’s bringing his dripping wet fingers up to his lips. Smoldering eyes looking right into yours when he pops them in his mouth. Sucking them dry. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

In a split second, you’re being splayed out on Gojo’s king-sized bed like such a slut. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw. And it happens so fast that you almost think you’re seeing things - but, no, the way you’re bouncing against the silky sheets was real. Your skirt bunching up at your waist was real. 

Gojo’s hazy gaze getting stuck right at the spot between your legs was real. 

“Shiiiit.” he murmurs, low and gravelly, like he’s moving through molasses. Stalking towards your trembling figure as if hypnotized, “Oh, she looks even prettier this way.”

You shuffle in embarrassment, pressing your thighs together, “Toru-”

But he doesn’t hear you, instantly scrambling onto the bed. “No- no no no no no-” Just wrenching your legs apart with his hands. “No, you don’t get to hide th-this from me, you don’ know how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve imagined-”

You’re gasping when he runs the tip of his index between your sopping wet slit, coating his fingers in your juices once more. Teasing. “N’ so wet. This all f’me? God, can’t even- ngh-”

“So eager.” you mumble, fingers threading through Gojo’s soft locks to pull him in so close. To drag him towards where you needed him the most. “Why don’t you jus’ shut up- N’ put that big mouth of yours into use somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, words a whisper, “C-can I?” He doesn’t wait for your response before flipping the two of you so easily. Having you toppling precariously on his lap now, “Can I really? Never done this before.”

Never?

It’s not before he lets out a shy huff, that you realize that you said that out loud. “So what? S’that bad?” Two large hands groping and kneading your ass to keep you in place, “Ya didn’t actually ngh- believe all those stories on campus, did ya?”

Squirming at the feeling of his massive girth rubbing up against your swollen folds, “D-doesn’t matter.” You grit out, “You can…”

And no sooner are you seeing Gojo’s megawatt smile, you’re already feeling it between your thighs. Being wrestled up like some glorified ragdoll, dragging your sloppy cunt all the way up to straddle Gojo’s pretty face. 

“So, this is what she ngh- looks like.” he whines, hot breath lapping at your quivering pussy. “Shit, she’s so wet I could almost-” You’re gasping when the man below you simply sticks his awaiting tongue out, admiring your pussy while letting your syrupy sweet slick drip! drip! drip! down his throat. “This all f’me?” 

The only thing you can give him right now is a needy little whine - which makes Gojo kiss the fat of your ass with a sharp smack! Biting his lip at the way it jiggles against his hand, “Tell me, where did my feisty girl go?”

That lewd little nickname has you scoffing in pathetic frustration, your grip searing on his scalp when you force his obscene mouth closer. “Y-you seriously need to-” Pulling, “-shut up, Toru.”

And oh, you’d played right into Gojo’s devilish hands. This was exactly what he wanted - to have his face stuffed between your limp legs, ready mouth meshing messily with the folds of your dripping cunt. “There she is.” he moans, the tip of his tongue slurping up the sloppy dredges of your slick. Carding between your pussy lips, “Oh- fuck there she is. Yeah use me like that- use me.”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute and you wonder how. Because Gojo was lapping at your cunt so feverishly, everywhere - from your inner thighs, to your folds, to just around the circles of your sloppy entrance like he wanted to taste it all. And couldn’t decide where to go first. 

“T-Toru.” you let out a honey sweet mewl of his name when the tip of his nose is rubbing against your clit. “There. Right there-”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he easily locates your sensitive nub. Wrapping those ruby lips around your clit to give an experimental suck. 

Shit, he could almost pass out from how heavenly you look on top guiding him. Your entire body jolting with each roll of his hot tongue, giving him such a pretty view of your tits up your silky shirt. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all into his mouth when he toys with your pulsing clit. 

“Oh fuck!” your hips are darting away with each zap of electricity sent down your spine. 

Which, for Gojo - who’s only ever dared to dream up this moment on those lonely nights - isn’t enough. 

“Know m’new to this, sweetheart, but stop bein’ nice n’ fuckin-” He’s pulling on the crease of your waist, dragging you to rest your entire weight on his face - his mouth. “-sit.” You’re keening when Gojo forces you to collapse on his soft tongue, bullying past your puffy folds and into that sloppy ring of muscle. Jus’ barely dipping past the resistance, “I said use me so fuckin’ use me. Don’ care if I can’t breathe - if I fucking suffocate- ngh- m’gonna die if you don’t just sit.”

“Fine.” You cry out when the curve of his tongue is molding into your gummy walls, pushing recklessly past. Not even fucking easing you into it before he’s fucking you on his tongue. Calculated, mean little thrusts in search of all your sweet spots. “No half-assing then, m’kay?”

Though, you had the feeling that he would do anything but. 

“Good, now keep still.” he’s scolding, one hand starting up again in those slow, satisfied tugs on his length. “Please keep still.” And the other dancing between your legs to push a finger inside your snug cunt. “Mmm it’s a tight fit, can feel ya clenching around me. Ngh- always wondered how it’d feel- where that would be.”

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you look down at where Gojo was already locked on you, “Th-that?”

“That.” he breathes into your cunt, voice reverent as he speeds up. “S’your pussy gonna tell me where your good spot is? Gonna help me ngh- learn?”

And to your embarrassment - and Gojo’s smug satisfaction, it only takes a few more hurried strokes of his tongue before he’s nudging against your g-spot. Both the texture of his tongue and his long, cold fingers curling to assault the poor bundle of nerves. 

Your body bows deeper as if on auto-pilot, “Oh- fuck! You fucking- hngh”

He’s snickering at the way you’re so responsive, cock hard - and only swelling girthier in his fist with each adorable moan falling from your lips. 

“Oh yeah? There? Ya like this?” he moans, “Ya like shutting up the ngh- p-pervert that steals your panties with your cunt?” 

Getting faster. More attuned to his feral need. 

Lips smacking in tempo with those obscene squelches, you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his cheeks hollow. Fingers still so rapid, moving to make out and toy so messily with you clit - untimed, sloppy but fuck did you love it. 

“Y-yes.” you’re shoving his mouth guiltlessly deeper. Letting his long tongue explore every crevice and inch of you. Sloppier. So, so filthy. “Love it- fuck- you’re such a fast fucking learner.”

“I know.”

There was that cocky Gojo Satoru you were used to, lips curling into a strawberry pink smile around your clit - all glossy and sweet with a sheen of your slick. Making such a mess of the lower half of his face, his chin, shit, all the way down to his jaw. 

“M’close-” you choke out at the sight, “M’so fuckin’ close- gonna- gonna cum on your tongue, Toru.”

“Look at you ruining me.” his words hit you hard on your sensitive cunt, sending shockwaves up your arched spine. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid mewls.“Absolutely defiling me. Are ya proud of nghhh fuck- yourself?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a strained, “Yes! Yes yes yes yes- God, m’so close, Toru/ Gonna cum m’gonna-”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming at first, just that you’re riding Gojo’s unfairly pretty face in harsh grinds - just the way he liked it. Jaw grinding against your cunt, chin hitting you with each slutty jerk of your hips, letting you use him all you want to ride through your high. 

And his fingers are digging into your hips, stopping you from pulling away even when you were snow. Even when you’re sobbing in oversensitivity. So painfully good. 

“Ngh- T-Toru–” you’re slurring out, his name thick on your tongue. “M’not gonna cum on your dick if you k-keep hah- acting this way.”

Only then does a pussydrunk Gojo Satoru raise his bleary eyes back up at you. Giving you a strained little grunt of acceptance, before parting ways with your pussy with a lingering, wet kiss on your clit. Barely-audible as he whispers, “Gonna see ya soon.”

You don’t have the time to think about his newfound addiction. Because in all of three seconds, he’s plopping you back down so prettily on his lap. Purposefully feeding your sopping wet slit his weeping red tip. 

“Please.” Gojo’s usually-arrogant grin has fallen into such a pretty pout with one graze of his length sandwiched between your folds. “I did good, right? Please ngh- so I th-think if I made you cum then I get to hah- fuck you how I want.”

And it’s not that you didn’t appreciate it before - but looking at his thick tip pushing up against your cunt right now has you recognizing that shit, Gojo is massive. 

Fat head blushing a pretty reddish, leaking so messily down, down, down those glistening veins at his side and to the creamy ring at his base - from when he’d cum, just from eating you out, you realize with a jolt. His girth so intimidatingly thick, long enough that you know you won’t be walking for a week straight, at least. All throbbing and angry with every second he isn’t buried to the hilt inside your cunt. 

Gojo Satoru is massive. 

“Like what ya see?” he echoes your thoughts, a soaked thumb coming down to pry apart your glossy folds. Grinning at the way your hole was already so needy and clenching around nothing. “Think m’the ngh- perfect size for this pretty pussy?”

Through it all, you find it in yourself to muse, “Only one way to find out. Gonna let me be your first, Toru?”

And then he’s pushing in, shallow, high little gasps bursting from his lips with each inch being bullied into your plush cunt. 

“O-oh fuck-” Gojo can’t stop himself from taking a good look at the way your pussy lips are bulging around him. Jaw dropping at the way your greedy entrance is only sucking him up more and more - trying to bite off more than you can chew with the way he was in so deep but barely even halfway in yet. “S’too good- oh my god- fuck I think m’gonna die. Is it s’pposed to feel th-this good?”

You’re running a hand gingerly through Gojo’s mussed-up hair, smoothing down the sides sticking up where you’d been pulling on it. “S’alright, Toru.” you soothe, letting him grind up into you. Trying to fit more - all of it. “You’ve got it- you’ve hah-”

You let out a pathetic little whine when his tip kisses your cervix, legs flexing around his toned waist. 

“Oh- ohhh fuck-” he’s barely able to string together coherent sentences now. Eyes falling till their half-lidded, body moving before his mind when he pulls yours stuck to his. “S-soo good n’ I haven’t even- oh!” His voice goes a few octaves higher when Gojo finally starts moving. “How can- it feel this good, hng-”

And shit for being inexperienced, he was fucking up into you so mean. Just in short little thrusts up like he was trying to fuck you even deeper - trying to squeeze inside more of himself impossibly. 

“Some- ah- some more, Toru-” 

He listens, and the stretch - fuck. Gojo wasn’t even trying yet, but his girth was already massaging your gummy walls so dizzyingly good. 

“Y-you’re so- ngh-” you graze your lips across his in what can barely be called a kiss. Too messy. Too depraved. “-so deep.” Sliding a hand about midway down your stomach to press down, “Can feel you all the way in here.”

Your words are sticking to Gojo like a second skin, driving him so fucking mad. Hips smacking up into you deep until his heavy balls were slapping your ass, sculpted pelvis crashing into yours.

“Stop talking.“ he spits, “Stop talking stop talking stop- talking.” Each word is punctuated by a desperate, messy stroke. Pushing you further and further up Gojo’s body from the obscene impact. “Stop hah- talking or m’gonna cum.”

He wasn’t lying - you could already feel the twitch of Gojo’ length rubbing up against your hidden sweet spots. The furious throbbing of his veins stretching out your elastic walls. 

And yet you’re still wailing stubbornly, “B-but Toru it feels so good.” Partially truth, partially because when the fuck do you get to see him so utterly wrecked like this. Sanity dancing away from him with each syrupy moan leaving your mouth, “Your cock is too good- ngh- feels-”

“Shut up.”

Gojo can only take that much of your nonsense before he’s stuffing your mean mouth full with a flimsy piece of fabric from somewhere on the bed- no. A strangely familiar pair of panties. 

“Heh, s’much ohhh fuck- better.” he beams with pride when you’re gagging and tearing up so adorably around the light blue fabric. Ramming his cock up harder - stronger, as if daring you to make a little comment about it. “Should’ve ah fuck- known you wouldn’t make it easy f’me.”

As if to prove his point, he gives your ravaged clit a little smack! before teasing and rolling his thumb exactly the way you’d taught him to with his tongue.

And he’s scrambling to sit up, carrying your boneless body with him. 

The new angle has Gojo seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “Here?” he manages to cackle, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Right here? S’my cock hitting th-that ngh- good spot? Yer pussy is fuuuck so much easier to u-understand than I ah- thought.”

Reeling back to bounce you on his thick cock. Crashing into it again. And again and again and-

Since you can’t snap back - or even beg for more - you only let out muffled little moans through the gag in your mouth. Thighs burning as you push back in pathetic little thrusts to somehow meet Gojo’s mindless cadence.

“Oh yeah?” he drags, leaning back to help you ride him properly. “Yeah yeah do i-it hah- like that. Do it juuuust like that.” A harsh thumb rolls into your clit, making you stutter and grind yourself down messily. “Fuck- Yeah ruin me- ngh- just like that.”

His words were jagged - uneven. Spitting out of his plump lips like he didn’t even know they were every time Gojo’s fat, leaky tip was gliding across your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving possessive little bruises to claim you from the inside out. 

“C-close.” you slur out, not even sure if he could hear over the dull slap of his balls on your ass, and the greedy squelches of your cunt. “More, Toru.”

Yet your sinful, sickly sweet noises have him freezing - if only for a split-second. Pussydrunk eyes going wide, jaw falling slack in such awe. 

But before you can fully appreciate this sight, he’s starting back his depraved thrusts again. Bouncing you harder - faster. Just dragging you along every ridge and bump of his swollen cock. Fingers just a needy blur toying with your poor clit. 

“M-more?” he whines into the crook of your neck, voice breaking at the end. “More. More?” He speaks up, like a mantra. Each word sending you spiraling down Gojo’s merciless cock, Panting, “Ever since you fuck- started rooming w’me, wanted this- wanted you to hah- be my first.” Holding you in such a vice-like grip as he splits you apart on his aching cock. Harder. “You’ve ruined me-” he spits against your lips, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’ know how many times I’ve cum to your pretty panties. Ruined me- ruined me- fuck m’so close- ruined me.” Violent, even. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. 

And it’s only taking a few more unsteady jabs into your g-spot before a wave of euphoria is crashing over you. “Hngh-” you spasm in Gojo’s arms, his eyes going wide in wonder when your cunt squeezes him so fucking tight- only to-

“F-fuck!” he whines, connecting your lips to his. Kissing you even with your panties still stuffed into your mouth. And Gojo’s cumming and cumming so hard he doesn’t even think he’s breathing. Intertwining his tongue with yours to muffle his overstimulated moans, wrapping around your sweet slick-soaked panties in the middle. The contrast of his soft tongue with the lazy fabric of your panties only making you milk his poor cock harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck- Take it. Take it, my girl.”

You moan incoherently, going insane at the way he was filling you up with long, thick ropes of cum. Fucking deeper and deeper up into you to paint your plushy walls from the inside. 

“S’all I’ve- ngh wanted.” he murmurs throatily, such a fucking mess now. Face flushed, eyes glassy with tears, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth with the way he was sucking lewdly on your tongue. “You’re all I-I’ve ever wanted.”

Shit, he hasn’t cum this hard in his life.

Finally having had enough of shutting up your smart mouth, Gojo slows down to deep little grinds - still moving. Still trying to hold back his moans at that creamy ring around his hilt, at the globs of seed trickling out of your poor overfilled pussy. 

“Hah- Toru-” you whine when he pries away the fabric in your mouth. Shuddering with the swipe of his finger along your clit, “C-could almost ngh- forgive you…”

“The blue one.”

“What?” you’re staring at him in confusion, and Gojo’s fucked-out grin only spreads wider. 

“That was for the b-blue one.” you gasp when his balls suddenly squeeze so painfully underneath you. Cock jerking in interest, “Y’gonna have me make up for that whole drawer full of panties, sweetheart?”

A/N. VIRGIN GOJO BRAIN ROT GOES BRRRRRRRR

Plagiarism not authorized.

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight Series’)

For the first time in a long time, Simon feels as if he’s walking on eggshells

He’s 6’4”, easily over 200 pounds of bulking muscle, strikes fear into the heart of each and every enemy he comes across (should they live to tell the tale that is), and yet he feels as though he’s tiptoeing, practically dancing around the issue he refuses to address

Yet you make him feel this way

It’s been months now, of this dance you still haven’t realized you’re apart of, shining on centre stage under the constant spotlight of Simon Riley’s attention, rather than one of the background performers as you seem to believe

He feels as though he’s done everything he can to get the point across to you, other than literally getting down on one knee and asking you those four special words he can’t seem to get himself to speak out loud

As easy as it is to pretend you two truly are husband and wife ‘til death do you part, he’s instead having to watch you leave base in exchange for your lonely flat each night, reminded of the fact that he’s not ballsy enough to just come out and say it to you

You make the Lieutenant nervous for fucks sake, something he hasn’t truly felt in so long he’s grasping for straws, searching for a life raft in these uncharted waters to help him stay afloat

That’s part of why he’s so confused when Gaz finally joins him and Soap in the gun range, landing a friendly smack across the taller man’s broad shoulders, saying something about how he’s ‘really happy for you LT, finally properly asked her, aye?’

“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost practically grunts out, readjusting the weapon against his shoulder as he glances through the scope of his gun, only partly interested in what the Sergeants answer is, that is until he hears him mention your name

“Just saw her at her desk, talkin’ about how she has a wedding this weekend-” Gaz has barely finished his sentence before Ghost is whipping his skull clad head around, shoving his weapon into Soap’s arms, and beelining out of the armoury towards you, leaving a pair of chuckling Sergeants behind him

They’ve never seen their Lieutenant so whipped before. And the fact that you don’t even know you have this beast of a man wrapped around your dainty little finger makes it all the more entertaining for them

They totally haven’t taken bets on how long it takes for him to break and finally confess his feelings, and Price definitely didn’t put money down on it either

Ghost may as well float into the room on a cloud he’s feeling so overjoyed at the idea of finding you sat at your desk all pretty, chit chatting away with colleagues about the wedding you’ve finally realized he intends to give you, taking all the pressure off of him

Instead, he rounds the corner and overhears the last tidbits of your conversation, pretending as though his stomach doesn’t drop out of him and onto the floor when he realizes you’re telling your desk mate about your sisters wedding this weekend

He should’ve know better, it wouldn’t be that easy

“-not that I’m embarrassed to go without someone. That I don’t care so much about.” He hears you explain, failing to have noticed him behind you quite yet. “God knows it’s been ages since I’ve gone on an actual date anyways. But this is the first time I’m a bridesmaid, and my sister keeps saying I’m apparently the only bridesmaid without a date-”

“Well aren’t you going to bring your husband?” Your colleague asks, cutting you off. Just like everyone else on base, she knows thinks you are in fact Mrs Riley, for all intents and purposes. You open your mouth to correct her and tell her you don’t have a husband, when a deep voice comes up behind you and speaks first.

“‘Course she is.” Ghost replies for you, coming to stand behind you in your chair, sneaking a gloved hand onto your shoulder to offer a slight squeeze of acknowledgment. You lean your head back to glance up at him, offering a soft smile that melts his heart more and more each time he’s lucky enough to see it, to be the reason for it. Sensing she’s now the odd one out, your coworker quietly excuses herself and goes to find someone else to talk water cooler gossip with.

“Oh Ghost! Hi!” You say, reaching your own hand up to squeeze his in return, smile widening when you notice the crinkles next to his eyes that you hope mean he’s smiling as well under the mask. “Oh, you really don’t have to. I mean- I wouldn’t want you to waste a day off just to sit through a stranger’s wedding for who knows how many hours. I barely want to go.”

You try to joke about it, but this really has been causing you unnecessary stress. Your sister apparently doesn’t have enough wedding planning on her plate as it is, seeing as she has enough time to constantly pester you about whether you’ve secured a date yet or not, despite your answer always being no. She knows it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone seriously, and that finding a date will be more of a chore than showing up without one and enduring your relative comments and questions.

Each time you told her no though, your mind wandered to the tall, dark, muscular man who liked to call himself your husband, imagining the looks on your family’s face if you were to show up with Ghost on your arm. But you never bothered to ask him, not wanting to force him into extending his kindness and charade of a happily married couple outside of work hours.

“I’d be with you for those ‘who knows how many hours?’” Ghost asks, quoting you, watching as you offer him a simple nod in return. “Then that’s the farthest thing from a waste o’ time in my books, love.”

As simple as that, the plan was set. Ghost would be your date to the wedding that weekend.

Now, Ghost was used to not having very much to look forward to in life. He could look forward to a hot shower occasionally, look forward to good pub food instead of mess hall dinners, look forward to a chance to sleep in a little later, simpler things of the sort.

But when you came into his life, he was suddenly looking forward to equally simple, but different things. He looked forward to reading your cute replies to his good morning and good night texts (he still never misses a single one, all these months later), looked forward to seeing your sweet smile greeting him when you arrived to work, looked forward to hearing your pleased hum when you took your first sip of whatever drink he prepared you that day. Essentially, he looked forward to seeing you.

Now though, he feels as if this weekend cannot come soon enough, finding himself practically giddy he’s looking forward to spending more time with you off base so much, feeling like a kid who’s itching to get their hands on their new Christmas gifts.

When he arrives at your flat almost a half hour too early (he just couldn’t wait anymore lovie, you can’t blame the poor man), and you open the door to greet him, he doesn’t think it’s fair to compare this to a gift under the Christmas tree.

No. It’s more like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

Standing before him, is the most beautiful, breathtaking vision he’s ever laid eyes upon in all his years. He half wonders if his knees are legitimately beginning to wobble where he stands, he feels so weak in the knees as he gazes upon you in your doorway. It’s still just you, the same woman he’s been seeing every day and dreaming of each night.

But you don’t look like you have every day these past months. Your hair is styled differently, your make up is a little more done up, and the thing that’s really got his mind reeling, is that instead of your regular work attire, you’re wearing a dress so stunning he half wonders whether or not you are the bride this evening. There’s no possible way someone so beautiful is expected to stand on the sidelines tonight, expected to be anyone apart from the star of the show, the centre of his the world.

You don’t take much notice of the way Ghost fails to greet you properly, standing outside your door and practically gawking at you, seeing as you’re preoccupied doing the same to him. His usual fatigues and black everything have been swapped out for black dress pants, a white button up shirt (your eyes definitely do not linger on the top three buttons being left undone, nope, not at all) and a black blazer, matching black surgical mask in exchange for the typical skeleton mask.

You two blushing, bumbling idiots in secret love manage to pull yourselves together enough to make the drive up to the venue, the car ride filled with laughter, stories, and too many stolen glances to count, each of you wishing you could pull the car over somewhere and jump each others bones instead.

At the venue, you go through the obligatory introductions with your family, simply so they couldn’t say you didn’t say hello at least once throughout the busy night, only partially intent on ignoring them later on. They’re left understandably stunned at the mention that the man beside you is your husband, and when your family members begin unloading question after question, the two of you manage to find a quick excuse each time to dash off, giggling and holding onto the other as you weave the growing crowd of guests, all too proud of your little inside joke.

You regretfully tell him that you’ll have to leave him to sit alone throughout the ceremony, though he insists you shouldn’t worry about it, lifting your spirits momentarily when he jokes that you should focus more on not tripping during your walk down the aisle, before the both of you are left bright red in the face at hearing him talking about you walking down an aisle, as if you don’t pretend to be married every day to begin with.

He truly doesn’t mind having to sit on the tiny foldable chairs that make up the seating for the ceremony, it’s only a small portion of the evening after all. And besides, his eyes certainly aren’t on the couple reciting their vows up at the altar. No, his gaze is on one person and one person only. From the moment the music kicked in and pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen stepped out to walk the aisle in their matching attire and matching smiles, his eyes have been locked on you, just as yours have been locked on his.

His size certainly helped you pick him out of the crowd with more ease, finding him amongst the familiar and unfamiliar faces instantly, as though gravity was pulling your gaze in his direction alone. Later on, neither of you could even correctly point out amongst the groomsmen whose arm you were holding on to as you walked, attention only focused on each other.

Even as you stood up front, listening to your sister and new brother in law profess their love for the other, you tried your best to appear as though you were paying them your full attention, considering you were standing up at the front and all. But it was as though you could literally feel Ghost’s eyes on you the entire ceremony, unable to stop your eyes from straying towards him more times than was surely appropriate, feeling the heat of a blush creep over your cheeks every time you saw how devastatingly handsome he was today.

By the time the newlyweds are marching back down the aisle past their cheering loved ones, wedding party in tow, your eyes are no longer pretending to look anywhere other than at him. And Simon is looking back at you, but his mind is growing preoccupied, thinking of how he can finally ensure you’ll let him walk you down the aisle now.

Because in the glove compartment of the very car he drove you up here in, only inches away from your knees the entire drive, he’s tucked away a small little box, containing the exact ring you chose from the jeweller all those weeks ago. He carries it with him everywhere, eager for the moment, the opportunity to be lucky enough to truly call himself your husband and slip the band over your finger as his wife.

And he’s decided that tonight is the night he tells you.

The night he tells you this has never been a joke to him, never been anything apart from what he really wants to be true from the moment he saw you.

To call you his wife.

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[monstersholygrail]

very classic but summoning a demon to fuck you and he gets a little obsessed 🙏

Imagine Himbo Demon was one day just casually going about his business, torturing a mortal with the agonizing act of small talk when suddenly a flash of white explodes across his vision. The next thing he knows he’s standing in a magical circle of your own design and he can’t get out.

You ask if he’s an incubus and that’s when he notices the book in your hand, ‘How to Summon Incubi With Your Friends: The Party Guide.’ He also looks you over and notices how painstakingly pretty you are and thinks… he could be an incubus.

That night he has what he claims as the best sex of his eternal life, no doubt about it. The way your body moved as you rode him within an inch of his life made him swear he was being taken back to heaven. The way you tasted sweeter than the finest nectar till it burned permanently into his senses. Every last bit of you was addicting.

When the summoning spell’s time was coming to a close, the demon actually felt an ache at the idea of leaving you and your sweet, sweet holes. He tried to reach for you once more but with a flash of white he was back in hell. His heart and his cock aching for you.

The minute he can he’s scouring hell’s library for the book he saw in your grasp. He reads it like a man possessed, ironically, looking for the spell you must’ve used.

As he’s reading the book, an Incubus just so happens to look over at him. Sensing eyes on him he looks up and their gazes meet. The Incubus reads the cover of the book he has and his eyes widen. He begins slowly inching away from Himbo Demon before turning and quickly rushing off.

Himbo Demon tilts his head, curious as to why the Incubus gave such a reaction. But after a moment of brief confusion, he goes back to reading the book. His eyes brightening as he finds the spell.

That night he clumsily performs the spell. His mind foggy with lust. His cock red, angry, and dripping with precum as he thinks about drowning in your holes, lapping up your essence like it’s the only food he’ll ever need and then fucking you until you’re raw and swollen, only to soothe any pain with his tongue.

Himbo demon growls, reaching down and lazily stroking his cock with one hand and performing the spell with the other. Somehow by a true miracle, it works. He appears back in the same fading circle he appeared in last time. His eyes ignite with feral need and his gaze flickers around the low-lit room before a door opens and you come waltzing in wearing nothing but a towel.

“Miss me, baby?” He snarls in excitement, knowing now he has a way to keep coming back to you.

You yelp, jerking back against the wall in surprise. Not expecting the demon to be here again but you’re not exactly upset about it either. Himbo Demon smiles wickedly, but in truth he’s just so happy to see you! He moves at the speed of lightning and he’s on you in an instant. His tall lithe body caging you in against the wall. You exhale shakily, your body tingling with need and your belly churning with arousal as you glance down at his fat cock bobbing and dribbling with his own arousal.

The scent of you floods Himbo Demon’s senses and he growls, fangs flashing in the moonlight that peaks in from the window. Feeling beyond thrilled that the spell worked. That he can go to you whenever he feels like it now. So long as you keep the summoning circle up, that is. But he’s too focused on your new easy access to even try and realize that.

“Don’t worry, sweet human. I’ve found my way back to you and your glorious body. From now on we shall never be parted and I can properly fuck your weak mortal shell ragged as much as I desire. And there is much… much desire,” Himbo Demon rasps heatedly, looking down at you with a fire in his eyes.

Before you can even think to respond, the demon is shredding your towel into two, revealing your body to him in all its glory. He barely takes the time to appreciate the view and suddenly he’s pressing into, rubbing his length along the height of your belly.

And you know this is the start of a wild adventure. One you’re sure is bound to last more than another night.

[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

respond to this post to be apart of my taglist!

[plutotheplum]

XO

akaashi keiji x fem!reader

summary: being the manager of the msby black jackals is stressful, but when a handsome stranger shows up, you think you might’ve stumbled upon a hidden perk.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, post-time skip, kissing, oral sex, blowjobs, p in v, smut, fluff

wc: 5.3k

a/n: watched the movie last night and i cried (if you saw this post before, no you didn't) <3

also on ao3!

Six months in, and you think you might be ready to quit your job.

Sure, securing a job as the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager was one of your proudest achievements, but no one had told you that you’d be dealing with men like this. You understood that you were in the presence of some of the finest sporting talent in Japan, but these men were wildly immature.

It’s why you’re here now, glaring at the man who had made fun of his teammate.

“What were you thinking?” you hiss, pointing your pen at the offending man.

Atsumu groans, his head tipping back against the wall of the locker room. “I was only having a little fun.”

“A little fun,” you reply, nodding along, “right, and that’s why Bokuto is off sulking in who knows where!”

“C’mon!” Atsumu protests, leaning forward, staring at you desperately, “I made a comment on the color of his shoes! How was I supposed to know that was gonna set him off?”

You can feel a headache begin to set in and you sigh, pointing towards the door of the locker room.

“Just go warm up, okay? I’ll try and find Bokuto.”

Atsumu nods, and has the grace to look at least a little apologetic as he pats your shoulder and leaves.

You follow him soon after, out of the locker room. Bokuto’s sulking most likely meant he wasn’t going to perform as well. You knew about his bouts of being discouraged, had seen it during the occasional game when something would set him off. People are milling about, and you quicken your pace, turning a corner to finally find Bokuto sitting on a bench.

“Bokuto!” you call out, the relief in your voice clear.

The outside hitter looks up at you, a pout on his face. 

“You ready for the game?” you ask, putting on a wide smile to try and make him feel better.

“Do you think they’re ugly?” 

“W- what?”

“My shoes,” he says, pointing at them, “do you think they’re ugly?”

You have half the mind to tell him that they’re just shoes and that he should grow up, but the look of utter despair on his face has you holding back. A quick glance down at his shoes and from what you can gather, they look relatively… normal. You were definitely going to kill Atsumu later.

“They look fine,” you say, pausing when you see his frown deepen. Your fingers tighten around the clipboard clutched against your chest and you put on a cheery smile, voice pitching up. “I meant they look totally great! And they really suit you!”

Bokuto makes no attempt to move, simply stares down at his shoes and traces one of the stripes absentmindedly. You’re at your wits end, growing antsy as you check your watch and realize there’s only 10 minutes before the game starts.

“I could get you some new-“

“You doing okay?”

A voice breaks in through from behind you and your head turns, brows furrowing when you see an unfamiliar man. The lanyard around his neck has a card attached to it, bold letters spelling out VIP . 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto sits up, his eyes lighting up for a moment, “do you like my shoes?”

You stare at the pair of men, bewildered. The man, Akaashi, pats Bokuto’s shoulder and lowers his voice to whisper some words to the pro-volleyball player. In what you think might be the quickest change of mood from Bokuto yet, the volleyball player stands up and gives a hearty laugh, his chest puffing out. 

You’re even more stunned when he pats your back happily and jogs off in the direction of the court.

“How did you do that?” you blurt out, eyes flitting towards the man who was now standing beside you.

“I used to play with Bokuto in highschool,” Akaashi replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Fukurodani. I was the team’s setter so I had to get used to Bokuto's little slumps.”

Huh. That did make more sense. You narrow your eyes, examining the man a little more. He’s handsome, sure, his glasses sitting on the slope of his nose as he shifts on the spot. Akaashi stares back down at you expectantly.

“Uh- well, thank you,” you say, holding your hand out and giving him a sheepish smile. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get him onto the court at all today.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his hand shaking yours. 

You introduce yourselves and he follows you onto the stands, both of you overlooking the two teams as they line up on the court. Nervousness makes you restless, your teeth biting into your lower lip as you watch the players get into position. You really wanted the Jackals to win.

“Relax,” Akaashi murmurs, his head lowering to speak directly into your ear to help you hear better over the roar of the crowd.

Your eyes meet his and he stares back at you intently, his hand squeezing at your shoulder gently. You think some sort of magic might be laced into his words with the way your body loosens slightly, your tense shoulders dropping.

“Thank you,” you mumble, giving him a faint smile.

Akaashi smiles back and squeezes your shoulder one more time before his hand drops away. You nearly protest against it, wanting to feel the heat of his body near yours again, but you can’t because you’ve only just met the man and you aren’t that desperate.

The game goes perfectly well, thankfully, and you’re up on the tips of your toes cheering for the Jackals as they shake hands with the other team. Your previous nervousness has all  melted away, leaving only a feeling of pure giddiness. Akaashi claps with you, his reaction much more toned down compared to yours.

“You can come down with me,” you say breathlessly, flicking through a few pages on your clipboard to find the schedule for the post game press conference.

Akaashi nods, his eyes drifting over you for a moment. “Yeah, I’ll come. I need to congratulate Bokuto anyways.”

You beam up at him and against better judgment, hand him a copy of the schedule before giving him a wave and disappearing off to meet the team. Akaashi watches as you flutter away, skirt swaying, the piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand. 

- 

“No talk of shoes, okay?” you warn Atsumu as you had him a bottle of cold water. “We can’t have Bokuto breaking down on national television.”

“You worry too much,” Atsumu complains, pressing the bottle of water against his flushed cheek.

“My job is on the line!” you argue, giving the man a glare.

Atsumu only gives you a pout and you thank Meian when he comes to get his teammate, grateful for the captain’s unwavering leadership.

You slip into the conference room before long, making sure to give the Jackals an encouraging smile and a thumbs up before you sidle up to the wall, watching as the various reporters ready their questions.

A few bottles of water sit on a table beside you and you reach for one, twisting at the cap. The stupid plastic burns across your skin harshly, making a glare settle on your face as you narrow your eyes at the bottle of water. You try again but to no avail, the cap latching on stubbornly tight. A soft curse gets muttered under your breath before someone’s hand reaches out, grabbing the bottle of water from you.

You blink in surprise when you realize it’s Akaashi, his hand twisting at the cap effortlessly and breaking the seal. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“That’s the third time today,” he whispers back, his eyes glimmering with mirth, “should I keep sticking around for more of your thanks?”

A smile pulls at your lips and you glance up at him to find him smiling back. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” you mutter, elbowing him in the side lightly.

Akaashi hums in response, his warm hand grasping at your elbow to hold you in place. You freeze for a moment, surprise flitting across your face but then you lean into him slightly, avoiding his eyes as you press into his side. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, just stands there with you, his eyes trained on the little notes you scribble on paper as the players speak.

To your relief, Atsumu manages to steer clear from the topic of shoes, answering the reporters’ questions thoroughly with a bit of humor thrown in, to lighten the atmosphere of the press conference. You find that you can’t really be all that mad at the man, he knew how to get the job done when it came to it.

The press conference comes to a close half an hour later and Akaashi trails after you as you usher the men back into the main foyer.

“Good job everyone,” you announce before flicking through a few pages of your clipboard. “The Chairman has been impressed with your performance this season, so he’s personally sent a congratulatory cake.” You stare pointedly at Atsumu and Bokuto. “Please make sure to not make a mess.”

The men are gone in a rush before you can say anything else and you smile fondly, shaking your head.

“You gonna let me get in on this cake thing?” Akaashi asks, raising his brows.

“You’re welcome to join,” you reply, shooting him a smile as you try to not sound too eager. “You do have VIP status, after all.”

Akaashi smiles back and you think it might be a miracle that your legs haven’t given out under the soft gaze he sends you. 

Thankfully, Atsumu and Bokuto don’t make a mess although you do spot them bribing Hinata to bring them a few more slices, the orange-haired man utterly oblivious to the fact.

“Hey,” Akaashi murmurs, stepping in beside you as you finish off your piece of cake. “You’ve got a little something.” He motions to the corner of your mouth.

“Oh!” you flush with embarrassment, wiping at the corner of your mouth with a napkin. “Gone?”

“Just a little more,” he says, watching as you try and fail to get rid of the chocolate icing that’s smudged over your lips and the corner of your mouth. “Just- here, let me.”

You freeze when he reaches out for you, his thumb swiping over your lip and skin gently, cleaning you up.

“Napkin?” you ask weakly, offering it to him so he can clean his thumb.

“No need.”

Akaashi keeps his eyes on you as he licks the pad of his thumb, your hazy eyes following the motion of his tongue, a rush of heat pooling in your lower stomach.

“Do you-” you begin, clearing your throat when you hear how airy your voice has become, “do you do this often?”

A smile pulls at his lips and he leans in a little closer, his breath fanning across your skin as his mouth opens to murmur something into your ear.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

You jolt, half-lidded eyes snapping open when you find Bokuto slinging his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. Irritation flashes through Akaashi’s eyes but it seems to fade when Bokuto begins to speak animatedly, detailing the past events Akaashi had missed.

Part of you would’ve liked to speak to Akaashi more, but you can’t find it in yourself to fault Bokuto, deciding to busy yourself with getting another slice of cake. A heavy arm slings itself around your shoulders and you roll your eyes when you realize it’s Atsumu, the wide grin on his face making you feel uneasy.

“Saw you getting real chummy with Bokuto’s friend,” he whispers conspiratorially, trying to swipe at your cake slice. 

“I was being friendly,” you retort, glaring up at Atsumu.

“You look like you wanna fuck him.”

“Your observations are not appreciated,” you grit out, trying to squirm away from under him when he steers you into a corner.

“Good news is, I think he wants to fuck you too,” Atsumu says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ Why are you doing this?” you groan, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Because you, my lovely manager, deserve happiness!” he says cheerily.

Your eyes narrow, taking in the smile on Atsumu’s face, suspicion flaring. “What did you do?”

“What?” Atsumu’s smile falters. “Nothing. Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because you usually do something, Atsumu,” you reply exasperatedly, trying to peek out from behind him to catch another glimpse of Akaashi.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, moving to the side so as to block your view of Akaashi.

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, peering up at him. 

He beams at you, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear. “Just make sure you take charge. Guys like that sort of thing. Yank him by the shirt or something and kiss him. My advice is foolproof .”

Was the advice really foolproof if the fool himself was giving it to you?

You shoot Atsumu a skeptical look, waving him off before he puts any more ridiculous ideas into your mind. 

As the night passes, the amount of players reduces, deciding to make their way back home. Atsumu shoots you a wink in passing and you glare back at him, fighting the urge to swat him.

“Heading home?” 

You blink up to find Akaashi standing beside you, his brows raised.

“Yeah,” you say, a wistful smile coming across your face, “it’s been a long day.”

“I could drive you home?” Akaashi offers, falling into step beside you as you both exit the volleyball stadium.

You had been planning to just catch an uber or something, but when Akaashi stares down at you like that , his gaze soft and lips looking sickeningly inviting, you nod immediately.

A few stolen glances later coupled with you biting back an inappropriate remark at the way his lithe fingers wrap around the steering wheel, you find yourself standing opposite Akaashi in the open doorway of your apartment.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” you say, peering up at Akaashi.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Akaashi murmurs, his hands shoving into his pockets.

Akaashi shows no signs of leaving however. Silence passes over you as you both just stand there, staring at each other. Your gaze dips down to his shirt, trying to stop Atsumu’s obnoxious voice from blaring through your normally rational decision making.

Yank him by the shirt or something and kiss him.

Eyes flitting up again, you decide to take your chances. Your hand curls into Akaashi’s shirt, yanking him towards you, lips crashing onto his. Several seconds pass and Akaashi stands there limply, his lips unmoving and non-reciprocating. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, feeling utterly mortified as you let go of him. “Atsumu said you wanted to fu- I mean- he said guys liked that sort of thing!”

At the same time, Akaashi begins to speak. “Bokuto said you weren’t interested.”

“ What? ” you sputter, eyes widening. Frustration sets your nerves alight and you fish out your phone, dialing Bokuto’s number, ready to give him an earful. 

“Hey,” Akaashi says, plucking your phone from your hand and setting it down onto a nearby dresser, “think you could do that after I kiss you?”

Your flurry of movements pauses, breath hitching when he steps inside your apartment, the door shutting behind him softly. He smiles down at you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering as he spins you around, pushing you up against the door gently, “y-yeah, I can do that.”

“Yeah?” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours. One of his hands slips up higher, smoothing over the length of your neck to cup your cheek.

You let out an incoherent noise, managing out a jerky nod. Akaashi laughs, tilting your head to the side as he places a soft kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, heart racing uncontrollably in your chest as he drags his lips across your skin, planting another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

His glasses dig into your skin but you can hardly find it in yourself to care, pulling him closer desperately when he slots his lips over yours. Akaashi kisses you heatedly and you whine, arms wrapping around his neck to return his kisses eagerly. His tongue gently parts your lips, hands slipping back down to squeeze at your waist and move you flush against him.

A few stumbles later and you’re pushing his chest, watching as he falls back onto the couch. Akaashi grins, his thighs spreading invitingly as he gets comfortable.

“Come sit on my lap, baby.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble up onto his lap, straddling his hips, lips finding his again. Akaashi groans when you run your fingers through his hair, hips rolling across his lap as he spreads his fingers over your skirt, groping at your ass.

“So- so you do wanna fuck me?” you ask breathily, unable to resist yourself from leaning forward and stealing another kiss.

“I thought I made myself obvious,” Akaashi replies, his hands slipping under your skirt to feel the warm, bare skin of your thighs.

A soft hum leaves you, fingers tracing across his cheek before reaching out to take his glasses off, setting them down. You smile down at him hazily and Akaashi smiles back, maneuvering your body so that you’re laying down, head nestled in the cushions.

You bite your lip when he kisses down your neck, sighing softly when he undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling it apart. Akaashi’s eyes darken when he sees the swell of your breasts in your bra, his hands reaching out to grope at them greedily. You fumble around, unclasping your bra, tossing it behind you.

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips before kissing down your body.

You gasp when his tongue swirls around your nipple, squirming underneath him as his hot mouth envelops it, sucking and licking, even nipping gently making your body twitch. Back arching, you moan, fingers tugging at his soft hair. Akaashi lets out a hum, mouth opening wide to suck your breast into his mouth, groaning when he feels your hips buck underneath him.

“ Fuck ,” Akaashi hisses, his fingers rubbing at your clothed cunt, panties utterly drenched, “you’re dripping. How long have you been like this?”

You flush, looking away. Akaashi clicks his tongue, grabbing your chin to turn your gaze back onto him.

“Tell me,” he coaxes, rucking your skirt up before he tugs your panties up, watching the hard press of the fabric outline your puffy folds.

“Maybe- maybe since you opened that water bottle for me,” you mumble, blinking up at him innocently. 

Akaashi’s grip falters, his brows shooting up in surprise. Your cheeks are hot, eyes dropping to find his cock straining against his trousers, the bulge making you lick your lips.

“That long?” he whispers, leaning in.

“Mhm,” you nod, arms looping around his neck to pull him into a sloppy kiss, tongue and all.

“If I knew it was that easy, I would’ve done it the moment I saw you,” Akaashi smiles, his nose nudging against yours as he continues to rub your pussy through your panties.

“Shut up!” you laugh, pushing at his chest.

He laughs with you, smacking a quick kiss to your cheek before slinking down, pulling your thighs apart. A contented sigh leaves you when he licks up over your ruined panties, mewling softly when he pulls them to the side to get a glimpse of your slick pussy.

“Such a pretty pussy. All of you is so pretty,” he murmurs, pulling your panties off. 

You don’t miss the way he tucks them into his pocket.

Akaashi’s mouth encloses around your clit, sucking with fervor. You let out a strangled moan, fingers fisting his hair roughly, thighs twitching. 

“A- Akaashi,” you whine, hips rolling up to meet his mouth needily, “ hah- oh fuck!- ”

His nose nudges into your clit when he stops suckling on your clit, licking up a wide strip along the length of cunt, a low moan slipping out of him as he watches your cunt clench and flutter around nothing.

“Taste so fucking good,” he rasps, arms curling around your thighs, thumbing apart your folds to press his tongue in deeper, licking over the velvety flesh of your cunt.

You moan again, breath catching in your throat when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud before his tongue presses into your aching pussy, thrusting in and out of you. He makes an obscene sound and you tug at his hair roughly, pushing his face deeper into your cunt, squealing when he shakes his head, tongue swiping all over you.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, beginning to chant drunkenly, “don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Akaashi grunts into your pussy, spreading apart your folds against to spit on your cunt, his tongue swirling around your swollen clit before sucking it into his mouth. He suckles on it hard ; the sensation making your toes curl and eyes squeeze shut tightly. 

“Gonna cum?” he asks, a hoarse laugh leaving him when you push his head back down.

You nod rapidly, hands squeezing at your breasts, pinching and tugging at your own nipples. Akaashi slips his fingers up past your chin and your mouth opens obediently, hips rolling up as you suck on his fingers. 

A whimper escapes you when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue laving over it again as he sucks desperately, driving you further and further to the edge.

“Cum on my tongue, baby,” Akaashi whispers, “wanna watch you cum all pretty and needy.”

You don’t need any more encouragement, back arching as your body draws taut. You cum with a cry of his name, squeaking when he licks over your oversensitive pussy, thighs clamping around his head while your fingers tangle in his soft, black hair. 

Akaashi pulls away with one final suckle to your clit, peppering kisses up your body before slotting his lips over yours again. You whine softly, cupping his cheek to return his kisses feverishly, feeling the press of his clothed cock against your inner thigh.

“Take your clothes off,” you say softly, pecking his lips sweetly.

You squirm out of your skirt and top when he gets off of you, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his shirt up over your head. The flex of his biceps has you letting out a low whine, fingers slipping between your thighs, unable to help yourself, rubbing your clit unabashedly.

Akaashi doesn’t miss the movement, shooting you a lazy grin, his hand smoothing over his trousers, squeezing at his bulge.

“Enjoying the view?” he murmurs, unbuttoning his trousers, “hm, baby?”

“‘m enjoying it a lot,” you reply airily, entranced by the motion of his hand as he grasps himself through his boxers.

Your breath catches in your throat when he pushes his boxers down, tongue feeling heavy as you watch the bob of his cock, heavy and thick. The hardened length twitches when he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his cock, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“T-taste?” you mewl, slipping off the couch and crawling towards him, “wanna taste, ‘kaashi.”

“Needy baby,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Your eyes flutter shut when he bends, meeting his lips in a short kiss. Akaashi presses the head of his cock against your lips soon after, a moan slipping out of him when he sees the way his pre-cum spreads across your lips.

You lick your lips, mewling at the taste of his pre-cum, mouth opening wider, tongue lolling out.

“Want it,” you whisper, fingers digging into thighs, “please?”

“‘m gonna give it to you,” Akaashi rasps, grasping the base of his cock to smack the head of it against your tongue a few times. “Go ahead, pretty.”

You hum happily, mouth wrapping around his cock, hand curling around the base of it. Akaashi groans, his head tipping back as you squirm on your knees, fingers finding your slippery clit again.

“Just like that,” he whispers when you begin to bob your head, tongue swirling around the head of his cock, suckling gently.

Akaashi’s thighs twitch, the hand tangled in your hair tightening when you shuffle closer, mouth stretching open to take more of him into your mouth. 

You suck and lick, practically dripping onto the carpet beneath you as you hear the grunts and groans that leave Akaashi. He sounds pretty, the little airy gasps and stutters of his breath giving you the encouragement to try and take him deeper, your nose pressing into the black tufts of coarse hair at the base of his cock, before you pull off with watery eyes.

“I might have a hard time letting go of you after this,” Akaashi says, watching as you blink up at him with starry eyes, stroking his hand over your hair as you mouth lazily across the length of his cock. 

“So don’t,” you whisper, laving your tongue across the head of his cock, tasting his pre-cum.

You land a soft kiss to the tip, tilting your head to kiss at his heavy balls. Akaashi stops you before you can suck them into your mouth, dipping his head down to kiss you instead.

“‘m gonna cum if you do that,” he whispers against your lips.

“That’s sort of the point,” you smile, hand stroking along his length.

He snorts, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you up onto your feet. His throbbing cock presses against your stomach as you wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. Akaashi gropes at the fat of your ass appreciatively, both of you standing together as you makeout languidly. 

You pull away for air soon after, hands roaming across his firm chest, eyes growing hazier with the way the muscles of his abdomen flex under your touch. A glob of pre-cum beads at the tip of Akaashi’s cock and you grasp his hand, rocking up to kiss his cheek before pulling him after you.

“Wanna ride my cock?” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe gently when you lead him into your bedroom.

“Y- yeah,” you reply airily, crawling up onto his lap when he sits down, his back against the headboard of your bed.

You rock your hips, grinding your cunt against his hot length, mewling softly when the tip of it nudges against your clit a few times. Akaashi catches your chin, pulling you forward for another filthy kiss, his hands smoothing up and down the length of your back.

“Sink down on it, baby.”

A soft whimper escapes you at his low voice, hands gripping his shoulders as you rise up onto your knees. Akaashi wraps his hand around the base of his cock, holding it for you. His head tips back, a guttural groan leaving him when you sink down on his cock, your nails digging into his skin.

“ Oh- ” you whine, “‘kaashi- hah- ”

“Keiji,” he replies, fingers dimpling the fat of your hips, trying to gain some semblance of control with the way your cunt’s clenching around his cock, “call me Keiji, baby.”

You let out a dazed sigh, rolling your hips and whining again, your own head tipping back.

“K- Keiji, you feel so good.”

Akaashi moans appreciatively in response to your words, landing a spank to your ass to urge you to move. You hiccup, cupping his cheeks, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as you roll your hips one more time and begin to rise and fall on his cock.

He keeps his eyes on you, letting out soft pants as you mewl and whimper out his name, hips swaying back to meet his thrusts when he begins to move his hips too.

“Good girl,” Akaashi whispers, head dipping to suck your breast into his mouth, “gripping me so tight, baby.”

“Keiji,” you mewl, dragging out his name in a needy call.

“‘m right here, pretty,” Akaashi murmurs, arms wrapping around your waist more firmly. 

You squeal when he lifts you up and begins to drop you down onto his cock himself, his face pressing into your chest, leaving desperate, heated open-mouthed kisses against your sweaty skin as he makes you take his cock.

“Oh fuck-,” you begin to gasp out, eyes squeezing shut, “ oh fuck! ”

“Take it,” Akaashi hisses, hands drifting down to grip the fat of your ass tighter, “fucking take my cock, baby.”

A surprised squeak leaves you when he lays you down, his cock pushing into you almost immediately after. Your legs wrap around his hips, hand reaching for his as he fucks his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing lewdly throughout the room.

You scrabble at the bedsheets, trying to find some purchase as Akaashi drives his cock into you harder and faster.

“Gonna make me cum,” he grunts, face pressing into the crook of your neck, his body dropping to be flush against yours, hips rolling to a slow grind.

“‘m gonna cum too,” you say weakly, eyes fluttering as he mouths at your breast lazily. 

Akaashi peers down at you when he pushes himself up, bullying his cock into your cunt, balls pressed snugly against your ass.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks softly, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re a terrible influence,” you sigh, giving him a dazed smile as you pull him down for a kiss, “but yes, you can.”

Akaashi grins, mouth slotting over yours again, thumb rubbing at your clit. He groans when he feels you clench around him, his hips stuttering jerkily when you dig your heels into the backs of thighs, forcing him to push his cock in deeper. 

“Brat,” he hisses, head dropping forward as he lets out a low whine, cock jerking inside of you as he cums.

You squirm, back arching as his thumb rubs harder, thighs twitching as you fall apart on his cock. Akaashi pants against your chest, his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out a few more whines, thick cum filling you up.

He rolls off of you so as to not crush you with his weight, running his hand through his hair. You curl up into his side, leaning forward to kiss his jaw.

“‘m gonna go clean up,” you whisper.

Akaashi nods, patting your hip affectionately, his eyes trained on the sway of your hips as you disappear into the bathroom.

You tug on a fresh shirt and a pair of panties, crawling back into bed to find Akaashi’s pulled his boxers back up over his hips, the manga volume you had been reading last night in his hand.

“It’s good,” you inform him, pressing into his side, head resting on his shoulder as you look over the little panels of drawings.

“I’d hope so,” Akaashi says, his hand rubbing at your side absentmindedly.

“Why?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“I happen to be the editor.”

You stare at him blankly, eyes flitting from his towards the manga. “No way.” You snatch the manga from him, flipping through towards the large page. His name is there in the little lettering, plain as day.

Editing: Akaashi Keiji

He smiles at you, nuzzling into your cheek, pressing several kisses here and there.

“Well,” you say, setting the manga down and wrapping your arms around his neck, “now you have to tell me what’s to come.”

“My lips are sealed,” Akaashi replies, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Keiji!” you whine, pouting up at him.

“Not happening, baby,” he says, shaking his head before leaning forward to kiss the pout off of your mouth.

You let out an irritated huff, pushing his head away when he tries to kiss you again.

“Look at that,” he muses, “you get all sulky like Bokuto.”

“Please don’t insult me.”

[trashytracktales]

Omg can you please write some smut with Lando about the FIA gala??? He looks so hot in that suit and I need something about it🥵😭 Maybe after the gala ended and they’re back to their hotel or they fuck while they’re on the plane back to Monaco.

The FIA (Feral Instincts Arise) Awards | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I knew there would be requests for this the second I saw Lando on that carpet. Bon appétit 😛

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𐙚 summary ──── It's the 2024 FIA Awards, and Lando and his girlfriend can't help but steal a moment of passion, unable to resist the tension built through teasing touches and glances during such a glamorous night.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, teasing, mild public intimacy, smut, descriptive language, fingering, bathroom sex, swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.2k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 14, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I have nothing to say except that I am absolutely devastated that my role model and inspiration, Michèle Mouton has officially retired from her role as FIA Safety Delegate. I love her so much and will forever be grateful for the representation she provided for women in motorsport throughout the years. In other news, at least everybody looked so fucking hot last night.

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IT WAS PURE torture for her to see him up on that stage from the beginning of the evening. She’d sat in the audience, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for being able to be by his side during this exciting stage of his life — witnessing his hard work, his wins, and his dreams becoming reality. It's more than she ever imagined.

As she watched him, she realized she wasn't just proud of his accomplishments, but thankful to be the one he comes home to, the one who gets to share these moments that will live forever in both of their memories.

Standing up to cheer for him, as Lando’s name was announced for finishing second in the Drivers’ Championship, was a natural reaction. The applause was loud, a mix of respect and so much admiration for her determined racer boy who had fought tooth and nail all season.

McLaren’s triumph in the Constructors’ Championship only added to the celebration, the team beaming as they ascended the stage to accept their award.

While the room celebrated them, all she could think about was him — her man, standing under the spotlights, looking impossibly handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked perfect, from his styled curls to his sharp jawline and sweet, nervous smile. She felt very conflicted, overwhelmed with pride and love, yet squirming with a different kind of heat every time he looked for her in the audience. The way his dimple appeared when he smiled, the casual confidence in his voice as he gave his speech, and the glint of determination in his eyes as he thanked the team for having faith in him — every bit of it was intoxicating.

Now, at the dinner table, the atmosphere has shifted.

Glasses of champagne catch the glow, sparkling like liquid gold, as conversations hum softly among the elite of the motorsport world.

Lando sits beside her, relaxed in a way only he can manage after such a long, eventful evening. His suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He holds a champagne flute in one hand, the other resting lazily on her thigh beneath the table.

She can feel the warmth of his palm on her skin, his fingers flexing ever so slightly. It’s a casual touch — he’s sipping champagne, laughing at something Oscar just said — but the effect it has on her is anything but relaxed. Her heart races every time his thumb brushes against her soft skin, slow and intentional, almost like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

Her own glass of champagne sits untouched in front of her, her attention split between the conversation around them and the heat blooming under Lando’s hand. She tries to pay attention, nodding along while Andrea talks about some funny incident that happened in the garage during the last race of the season. But her thoughts keep drifting back to him.

She glances over at Lando, her breath catching at how effortlessly handsome he is, now that he’s more relaxed and in his element. The golden light softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. But it’s the dimpled smirk that forms as he catches her staring that sends a shiver down her spine.

“Everything okay, gorgeous?” asks Lando, his voice low enough that only she can hear.

She nods, swallowing hard. “Positive. I'm just incredibly proud of you, that's all.”

His smirk widens, his thumb stroking her thigh with more purpose now. “You’ve said that already,” Lando murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes her ear. “But keep going. I like hearing it,” he adds, pressing his lips to her cheek.

She smiles, looking away, determined not to let him fluster her further.

However, Lando has other plans. His fingers trace unhurried patterns on her inner thigh, edging closer to the hem of her dress. The movement is subtle — nobody at the table would notice — but to her, it feels like her skin is burning. Her breathing gets heavier, and she shifts in her seat instinctively, her legs parting just enough under the table to grant him more access.

“My good girl,” whispers Lando, smiling against her cheek, then turning his attention back to the conversation.

Her heart skips at the quiet praise, and she shoots him a quick, warning glance, her eyes wide with panic.

Lando looks completely unbothered, taking part of the dialogue like he’s the epitome of innocence. The slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells a very different story, though. A secret one, that only they know about.

“Stop it,” she whispers through gritted teeth, her voice so low that it’s practically a breath.

Obviously, he doesn’t. If anything, her quiet protest seems to spur him on. The pads of his fingers creep higher, brushing dangerously close to the heat between her legs. She grips the stem of her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles white as she tries to take her first sip of alcohol of the night — at least then she'll have something to blame if anyone asks her why she got so flustered all of a sudden.

“Lando,” she warns, her voice soft but firm.

“Hm?” he hums, his expression completely neutral as he keeps his attention to Oscar, who’s recounting his Turn 1 incident from Abu Dhabi.

She bites her lip, willing herself not to squirm in her seat. She almost can not believe how shameless Lando is, then she remembers all the times he tested her patience when they were in public. At that, her free hand drops to her lap, fingers wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to still his movements. He doesn’t pull away, but he also still doesn’t stop. Instead, his thumb presses a little harder, a constant reminder of his presence.

“You’re squirming, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “People are going to notice.”

“Then stop,” she repeats quietly, her tone sharp enough to earn a quick, curious glance from Andrea, who's sitting across from her. She ends up forcing a small smile, nodding, then turning back to Lando.

He chuckles under his breath, leaning in just slightly so his words are for her ears alone. “But we’re having so much fun,” he teases.

Her body betrays her as heat pools low in her belly, and she can’t stop herself from shifting again, her legs spreading a fraction wider. Lando takes full advantage of the movement, his fingers grazing higher until they’re just shy of where she needs him most. She glares at him, her eyes filled with need and her cheeks burning when his fingers slide easily over her lace panties, pressing harder on her warmth. As a response, her body jerks, and she barely suppresses a gasp, her nails digging into his wrist.

“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath, her voice shaky.

His grin returns, and he tilts his head, finally looking at her again. His gaze is dark, heated, and he looks entirely pleased with himself. “No, you don’t,” says Lando, so sure of himself.

It’s a miracle she doesn’t combust on the spot.

Because he's right — she doesn't hate him, she hates the fact that they're in public and she's incredibly turned on, but there's nothing she can do about it.

Finally, she can breathe normally when he withdraws his hand from between her legs, just as casually as he’d started. Her body is still buzzing with the lingering traces of his touch as she places her hand lightly on Lando’s shoulder. Slowly, she rises from her seat, her fingers squeezing just enough to send him a silent message only he’d understand.

At that, Lando’s heart stutters for a beat, his mouth suddenly dry as he watches her glide gracefully toward the bathrooms. The way her dress hugs her curves doesn’t help the growing situation in his pants — it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, a small punishment for what just happened between them. He tries to act like he's not affected, emptying his glass of champagne while his eyes turn back to the table, but his focus is scattered.

His hand still tingles from touching her under the table, and now he’s left to deal with the knowledge that his teasing had gotten to her.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Minutes tick by, though they feel like an eternity.

Lando finds himself forcing a laugh at something Oscar says, remembering how impossibly talkative his teammate gets when he has a few drinks on board. He shifts in his seat, trying to mask his growing anticipation, but she’s all he can think about. His fingers drum against his empty glass, the weight of the moment making it almost impossible to sit still.

Then, his phone buzzes inside his pocket, her name lighting up the screen.

He doesn’t need to answer to know it’s just a diversion, and she’s not waiting for a conversation, either — she’s just giving him an out.

Lando clears his throat, “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, giving the table an apologetic smile, as he pushes back his chair and making his way out of the dining area with purpose.

His heart pounds in his chest as he walks toward the bathroom, careful not to seem too rushed, but acutely aware of the tension building inside his body with each step he takes.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is quieter, lined with soft, ambient lighting and artwork that screams understated luxury. He takes a turn, his steps slowing as he spots her standing in front of the mirror inside the women's restroom. The space itself is elegant, all marble countertops and gold fixtures, with sleek stalls and huge mirrors.

She’s touching up her lipstick, her purse resting next to her, the subtle curve of her smile betraying the fact that she knows he’s behind her. Lando approaches slowly, his footsteps soft against the polished tile. When he’s close enough, his hands settle on her waist, his touch firm yet familiar as he pulls her closer.

“There you are,” he says, his voice low and full of heat. “Worried about your makeup when it’s just going to smudge off you anyway?”

Her smile turns into a smirk as she meets his gaze in the mirror. “God, you’re the worst,” she teases, her tone light but laced with something more intimate.

Lando chuckles while she turns in his arms. Her hands slide up his chest, her touch lingering as she looks up at him, her eyes dark with intent.

“Are you sure it can’t wait until we get back to the hotel?” asks Lando, even though he already knows the answer, because he knows the look she has painted all over her face very well.

Her lips brush against his cheek in a warm, lingering kiss before her breath tickles his ear. “Baby, that's hours away.”

She intertwines her fingers with his, and leads him to one of the stalls at the end of the bathroom. The space is just as luxurious as the rest of the venue — tall wooden doors that reach from ceiling to floor, polished brass locks, and a sense of privacy that makes it feel more like a secluded room than a bathroom stall. As soon as they step inside, the door locks with a soft click, and every ounce of restraint disappears.

Lando’s lips are on hers instantly, hot and demanding, his hands already traveling to the hem of her dress. There’s no time to waste, with all those people back at the table who could realize at any moment that it is no coincidence that they are both missing at the same time.

His hands slide up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher until he reaches the thin band of her panties. His fingers slip beneath the lace, tugging them down in one swift motion before his hand returns, sliding between her legs and finding her completely soaked.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers dip into her heat. “All this from a bit of touching?”

Her breath comes out in a shaky laugh as she clutches his shirt. “No,” she whispers, “All this from watching you on that stage, sitting next to you the entire night, seeing how people were cheering for you — and then from a bit of touching.”

A cocky smirk tugs at Lando’s lips. “That so?” he asks, pressing a finger into her, his pace measured as he stretches her slowly.

She gasps, her head falling back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. A second finger joins the first, curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit, making her see stars.

Her hands, trembling with anticipation, move to his belt, fumbling for a moment before she pushes his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. Her touch is soft at first, her fingers wrapping around him and stroking slowly, making his jaw clench.

She looks up at him, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she echoes his earlier words. “All this from touching me under the table?”

“Shut up,” he growls, grabbing her thigh and hitching it around his hip. His cock presses against her entrance, teasing her as he slides the tip through her slick folds.

“You shut up, and fuck me already,” she says, her voice thick with desire.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them gasping at the full sensation. The stretch is so sweet and perfect, and he pauses for just a moment, letting her adjust before pulling back and thrusting again, harder this time. Her back presses against the door, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he sets a relentless pace, in and out of her tight pussy. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he drives into her, each movement hungrier than the previous.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lando groans, his lips brushing against her ear. “Perfectly thight around me, baby. Always so sweet and eager, aren’t you?”

She clings to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he angles his hips, hitting a spot that has her biting back a cry. “Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky and full of need, while trying to mimic his rapid movements.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, his voice rough as his fingers dig into her hips. “Let them hear you, baby. Let everybody know how well you take my cock.”

Her head falls on his shoulder as he thrusts deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her. The tension coils tighter and tighter in her belly, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.

“Lando, fuck,” she moans wetly into his shoulder, feeling her pussy clenching around his length. “Shit, baby. Yes, don’t stop.”

As he buries himself so deep inside her, Lando realizes that's what he wants to do for the rest of the evening — the rest of his life, as a matter of fact. His lips part as he feels her walls twitching around him, making him — if that's even possible — even harder for her. His breaths come out in spasms, letting out a small cry of pleasure as his chest crashes against hers violently.

Sensing that she’s so close, Lando’s hand ends up slipping between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”

“Are you—oh, fuck,” she tries to speak, but all her thoughts are focused on how good he makes her feel.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando assures her, “Right behind you, love.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before she shatters around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm washes over her. Her moans are muffled against his neck as he continues to fuck her through her release, chasing his own high. His movements grow erratic, sloppier, his grip on her tightening as he finally lets go, spilling into her with a low, guttural moan.

For a moment, they can’t hear anything else except the soft whir of ventilation and their labored breathing. Their bodies stay pressed tightly together as the echoes of their pleasure lingers in the small space.

Her chest heaves against his as she exhales shakily, her lips brushing his neck, then up his jaw in a silent thank you.

Lando smiles, slowly pulling out of her, his cock still hard and sensitive from his release. She shudders at the sudden emptiness, but before she can speak, his hand slips between her thighs again. His fingers slide inside, pushing some of his cum and their mingled release back into her.

“Lando,” she gasps, her body clenching instinctively around his fingers.

His breath falls hot against her skin. “Gotta make sure you feel it all night.”

Her cheeks flush at his words, and she bites her lip, torn between glaring at him and melting into his touch. He strokes her lazily, savoring the way her body responds to him even now.

“Insane behavior, Norris,” she exhales sharply, finally looking up at him.

“My brand,” he smirks back at her. “But what about you, hm?” he asks, his tone soft, but teasing as his eyes rake over her wrecked expression. “Going back knowing you’re filled up so good?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but the heat in her gaze betrays her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it,” he quips, fixing a strand of her hair and then kissing her deeply one last time.

She smiles against his lips, brushing her thumb over his mouth to wipe away the faint smudge of her lipstick. Then, leaning up, she presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t take too long, champ.”

With that, she exits the stall, glancing once in the mirror to make sure she looks composed, and collecting her purse before heading back to the table.

When she returns to her seat, the conversation flows just as before, no one paying much attention to her absence beyond a polite glance. Her heart pounds in her chest, the sensation of being so intimately connected to Lando still fresh in her mind as she settles into her chair. She picks up her glass of champagne, finishing it in one go, her hands steady despite the warmth still coursing through her body — and the wetness between her legs.

A few minutes later, Lando comes back, his phone pressed to his ear as he pretends to be mid-conversation. His expression is casual, his voice light as he murmurs something unintelligible before slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his seat.

But as soon as he sits down, Oscar’s eyes narrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Lando catches the look, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. “What?” he asks silently, his expression confused.

Oscar doesn’t answer, instead he points directly at Lando’s bowtie, which is noticeably crooked.

Lando’s eyes widen as he glances down, and straightens it as casually as he can, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

“It's windy outside,” Lando mutters under his breath, low enough that only Oscar can hear.

His teammate just grins knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever you say, mate.”

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