#but I was just wondering if anyone else feels the same

[marscantread7]

Mdni man😭😭😭 it gets filthy I fear.

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Thinking abt Xavier and Caleb both spotting you across the street, calling out your name at the same time. They shoot each other a glare, wondering who the fuck this random guy is talking to you. You look over and wave, but point at your phone, and in a different direction, indicating you have plans and can't talk to either before getting lost in the crowd.

Cut to Xavier and Caleb in a coffee shop sitting across from each other, glaring daggers.

"Name?"

"Xavier, you?"

"Caleb. How do you know her?"

"Through work, you?"

"Childhood friends." Which causes Xavier to huff.

They drink their coffee in silence before Xavier says he has to leave for "important work matters" which gives Caleb the perfect opportunity to stalk Xavier. He... becomes obsessed. Following Xavier everywhere, finding out he lives in the apartment right above yours, discovering that Xavier is the beloved Lumiere, watching him frantically look for and destroy protocores. He's even sort of endeared by how much Xavier sleeps and how tired he is all the time. What's so fascinating abt this guy that has you attached at the hip when you aren't with Caleb?

Both you and Xavier really need to get some curtains or blinds for your apartments, bc Caleb will sit on the roof of the adjacent building, watching both of you fuck like wild animals. Jealousy's ugly head rearing his mind at the thought of smb else watching you guys. Watch as Xavier's cock plows deep into you, your bodies glistening with sweat. Fuck... what he would give to be there with you both, fucking you and making Xavier watch... fucking Xavier as Xavier fucks you- wait.

And it's with his cock heavy in his hand, pre-cum drooling from the tip that Caleb realizes he wants you and Xavier. The thought of smb else watching you both, talking to you both, fucking you both... he can't stand it.

He starts joining in on your hangouts with Xavier, even trying to hang out with Xavier one on one. Xavier's a bit suspicious at first, especially considering his first meeting with Caleb, but he eventually warms up to him. Caleb notices how jealous and possessive Xavier is over you, and he can't help but want that for himself as well. Fuck... the thought of fucking the jealousy out of Xavier, reassuring him that he doesn't want anyone except for you and him. Caleb has to excuse himself to the bathroom to rub one out before he actually loses his mind.

It took some time, but Caleb did it. He won Xavier over, and he felt like a fucking God, being brought back to Xavier's apartment one night, making the pretty boy kneel for him. Xavier looking up with wide, blue eyes. Fuck, Caleb kinda wants to fuck his mouth, so that's exactly what he does.

Xavier gags on his dick so beautifully. Caleb wanted to remember this moment forever, so ofc he had to pull his phone out to record and take pictures. Slapping his spit soaked cock on Xavier's face as the man gasped for air, calling him a good boy.

"Yeah, you like choking on this fat cock? Come on baby, why don't you choke on my cum too?" And that's exactly what Xavier does. Caleb buries himself to the hilt, spilling down Xavier's throat, growling as he feels Xavier's throat constrict, gagging on his cum.

Fucking Xavier felt even better than he imagined. Xavier was so fucking tight, Caleb actually thought he was gonna suffocate.

"Poor boy's all cock drunk? Yeah? Come on, fuck yourself on this cock, ik you want it, greedy fucking boy. Ooh, fuck don't tighten up like that, fuck."

And that's how it goes. Caleb just talking Xavier through it, Xavier a whining, drooling mess, which he gets called out on. "Dumb boy's drooling? Hm? Close that pretty mouth baby, stay quiet. Should save all that spit for this cock, right?"

So Xavier's stuck biting his lip, trying to swallow back the whimpers. Who knew Caleb would be so fucking rough??? Xavier literally feels like he's on cloud nine, mind only focused on the thick cock plowing deep into him, hitting his prostate spot on with each thrust. They go all night, Caleb finally sated once the sun comes up, and they both end up passing out on Xavier's giant beanbag chair, covered by a small throw blanket.

That's how you find them when you visit Xavier'a apartment to check on him after you hadn't gotten a good morning message. Xavier wrapped in Caleb's arms, covered in hickeys and bite marks, sleeping peacefully. Your utterly confused bc when did this even come about??? But who cares, at least you won't have to pick between them now. Makes your life so much easier

Bonus-

Xavier getting really jealous bc smb tried flirting with you and Caleb, so you guys take him back to your place and show him that he's the only one you both want. You riding Xavier slowly, making him suck on your thumb as Caleb fucks him slow and deep, really making him feel it.

"This cock is all yours baby. Nobody else but you can have it. Gonna fill you to the brim. Mark you as mine. You want that, my good boy? To be claimed?"

Caleb's mouth is so fucking filthy, making your hips twitch, cumming on Xavier's cock. Caleb just hugs your back to his chest, muttering at you to keep riding Xavier.

"This night's all about our pretty boy. Don't be selfish and stop just bc you got all desperate and came. Ride his cock, baby. Yeah, just like that."

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Yeah.... Idk what this is man. I'm just really fucking horny rn chat, I'm sorry😭😭😭

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Being In Love (and how to get you to love him back)

You're a vigilante in this one, but it's only semi-relevant to the plot (I think it classifies as a fluff piece) ~1.1k words 

Jason has never liked things easy. Well, that's a lie, he's never had things easy. What is true is that Jason Todd likes a challenge. And that's something you certainly are. 

He's never meant someone so stubbornly insistent on staying at his side, has never had someone so willing to throw themselves into danger right alongside him. He can tell you to hang back– demand, even, that you wait for his all-clear before storming the drug bust or robbery of the week, but you never listen. You always just follow him, stand by him, have his back. 

You're always there for him, never pressing, but always present. So he really shouldn't be surprised that he falls head over heels for you. 

It was slow, gradual, something that crept up on him before he even had a word for the feeling growing inside his chest. And then it crashed over him like a tidal wave. Flooded his senses and became so undeniable that he forgot how to breathe. 

There was no grand moment, no pivotal event. You just smiled at him, and oh, he knew. He knew he was a goner, and nothing would ever be the same. No excuse could get him out of there fast enough, once he realized exactly how much of his heart you held.

With his face flushed, eyes wide and starry, and chest so tight it hurt, he ran. He's not proud of it, but he did. It took him days to figure himself out. To come to terms with the fact that you were it for him. And when he finally crawled his way back to your side, you were there. Waiting. Ever patient, ever smiling, ever willing to let him mess up again and again. 

He thought it would be simple, once he accepted that love was the only way to describe the depths of his feelings for you. But you, despite how easy you seem to make everything else in his life, stubbornly (or obliviously) don't seem to notice how enamored he is with you. 

Jason does every single thing he can think of to earn your attention, to deserve your affections. He gives you his jacket when it's cold. (You try to turn it down every time, but you always give in. You always smile that soft, gentle smile that makes tingles run from his spine to his toes– his entire world fixating on you)

He makes you food, buys you food, takes you out to eat, recommends recipes, shares his favorite meals with you. (The way to one's heart is through their stomach, right? But you return the favor every time, for every meal he buys, you treat him to one. For every dessert he bakes, you bake one of your own. It's almost frustrating, if your food wasn't so good. He just wants you to let him take care of you for once without needing to do anything in return)

He brings you flowers, trinkets, anything he can think of that would make you smile. (And you do smile, every time. But then you tell him he doesn't have to go out of his way like this for you. He wants to, so badly, if you would just let him)

He picks invisible lint of your shoulder, smoothes out the wrinkles in your shirt. (You just smile, the same sweet smile you always do, and he has to wonder if that's your way of letting him down easy, if you're not so oblivious as you seem)

He tangles his fingers in yours when the need for night vision arises on missions. (He knows your mask has it, knows you can traverse the dark without the need of his help, but he claims that the one in his mask is better every time. It's not, but you never call him out on it)

He shares every little detail of his life you ask for, and listens to everything you say, memorizing every word that falls from your lips for the future. (He tells you things he'd never tell anyone else, but you deserve to know– deserve to know him and all the reasons why you should and shouldn't love him back)

He checks in on you. He texts you on the days you don't see him, holds you back after patrol to check if you're doing all right. He pays attention to your moods, the set of your shoulders, and does everything he can to lift your spirits when you're down. (You do the same for him. He can't tell you how much that means. He wants to, he just doesn't have the words)

But despite everything he tries (everything but outright saying that he loves you) you don't offer him more than what a friend would. (A best friend, sure, a confidant like no other, but that's not what Jason wants)

He resigns himself to just this– to friendship and nothing more– for the rest of his life. (And that would be enough, just to linger in your space would be enough forever) Until a mission gone wrong, until an explosion that leaves his ears ringing and his head spinning and his only thought is the aching fear of not knowing if you made it out.

You do– did– you're standing in front of him and even if you're favoring one leg over the other you're alive and he can't hold himself back any more under the wave of relief that nearly sends him to his knees.

Jason rips the mask from his face and kisses you like it's the only chance he'll ever have. (It might be. He fully expects you to punch him in the face once he pulls away)

When he does pull back to catch his breath, his hands lingering over your cheeks like he's scared you'll disappear, he watches something flash over your face. Realization. A quiet 'oh' escapes your throat, and suddenly, you're kissing him with a passion he never dared hope for from you.

Your arms thrown around his neck, his fingers digging into the small of his back, the smell of smoke and ash clinging to your skin. It's nothing like he expected, but so, so perfect and you and everything clicks into place when you suck his bottom lip between your teeth and lean your weight into him, trusting him to hold you steady.

Jason has never had things easy, but this moment– kissing you, loving you– feels like the most natural thing in the world, and he wants that to last forever. Wants you– this– all of it, held in the palms of his hands for eternity. (And you want the same, you always have, because how could you do anything less than love him just as much as he loves you?)

[scarletwinterxx]

maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine

hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)

also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.

Not once.

Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.

And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.

Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.

“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”

“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”

Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.

But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.

It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.

“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”

You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.

Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.

“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.

“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.

It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.

It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.

Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.

But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”

Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.

“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”

“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.

Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.

Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”

You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.

“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.

You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.

It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.

“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.

You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.

The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.

Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.

You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.

She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.

You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.

The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”

You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”

When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”

The look on your face is answer enough.

Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”

“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”

You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”

True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.

“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”

You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.

But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.

The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.

You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.

“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.

“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.

“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”

“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”

Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.

“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.

You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.

“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.

As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.

You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.

From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.

He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.

Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.

“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.

For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.

“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.

But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.

The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.

Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.

Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.

The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.

Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.

And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.

You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.

The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.

The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.

Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.

His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.

His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.

When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.

The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.

Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.

You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.

What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.

Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.

“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”

Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.

“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”

You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”

“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”

Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”

You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”

Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?

"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.

Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”

You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?

"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"

Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."

You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.

But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.

The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.

After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.

His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.

But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.

Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.

You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.

And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.

Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.

“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him

"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds

"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"

"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.

You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car

“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”

His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.

“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.

But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.

You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.

You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.

As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.

But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.

The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.

It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.

And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.

But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.

As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

But he saw you. Of course, he did.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?

"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."

You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.

“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.

"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”

There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”

Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?

But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.

And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.

The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.

As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.

Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.

Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.

You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.

“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.

But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."

Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.

You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.

For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.

This time, he seemed almost... human.

"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.

“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”

There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.

You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?

You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?

"But then the kiss..."

"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"

"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble

"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile

Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.

“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.

Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.

You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.

As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.

What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?

You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.

For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.

"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?

You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.

You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”

You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.

“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”

“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”

You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."

You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.

You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.

You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.

Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.

“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.

He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.

You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”

Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”

Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.

You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.

Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”

You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”

“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”

You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”

“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”

“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.

It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.

You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back

You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”

“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.

“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”

Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”

You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”

“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.

Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.

Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”

Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.

When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.

You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”

Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.

You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.

Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”

He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.

It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.

“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”

“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.

What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.

This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?

One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.

“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”

You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”

He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.

You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”

“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?

A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.

When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.

“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.

Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”

You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.

Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.

Wonwoo.

Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”

“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”

There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.

Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”

“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”

You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”

At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.

Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.

“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”

There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.

When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.

You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”

Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.

It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.

But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.

Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.

For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.

You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.

You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”

Silence.

The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.

Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.

“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”

Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.

Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”

“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.

Your entire body tensed.

Oh my god.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.

You wanted to disappear.

“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”

“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.

“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”

Another silence.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.

And then—

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.

And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.

So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.

“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.

Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So, naturally, you panicked.

“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.

Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”

“I am not running away!”

“You’re literally running away.”

“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.

Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.

This was too much.

Jeon Wonwoo was too much.

When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.

Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?

You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.

And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”

Your face heated.

“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.

You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.

And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.

He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.

“Are you still confused?”

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.

His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.

“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”

You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.

Instead, he leaned in.

Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.

Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

“Then tell me…”

His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.

“What do you want me to be?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Your body went completely still.

The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.

Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.

And you…

You had no idea how to answer.

Because for the first time ever—

You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

What did you want him to be?

For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.

You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.

Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,

“I—”

And then you panicked.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.

It didn’t.

Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

You almost choked.

“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.

His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”

You gave him a look.

He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.

Your breath hitched.

“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”

You swallowed thickly.

Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.

“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

The confession made something in your chest tighten.

Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.

He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”

You blinked. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.

There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.

Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.

“…I missed you too.”

Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.

“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”

You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.

His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I have to answer now?"

Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.

“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.

You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”

“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”

That didn’t help at all.

You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?���

“Yes.”

“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.

After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not gonna pressure me?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna… wait?”

Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”

Your breath hitched.

Oh.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.

“…Okay,” you mumbled.

“Okay?”

You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”

His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”

And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.

Your brain completely shut down.

“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.

Wonwoo just smirked.

“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”

And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.

[shy-writer-999]

1-800-LONELYCHEF . ₊ ⊹ .

Summary: The same man calls you every Friday at 11:30PM. It seems like he has nothing better to do. After months of the same routine, you've started to take a liking to him, which is a problem, considering that he's your client... and you work at a phone sex hot line. WC: ~7k. CW: NSFW content! ANGSTY! Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Masturbation, oral sex. MDNI plz!

“Hello?”

You’re very familiar with the caller on the other end of the line. He calls you once a week—every Friday, after his shift at the bougie restaurant he works at, 11:30PM on the dot.

He must be very attractive, or at least that’s what you’ve garnered over talking to him for many months.

At first, he was evidently too shy to make use of your more… explicit services. This is a phone sex hotline, after all.

He honestly sounded like he just needed someone to vent to. So, you listened, as was your job. After the first few months, you both got more accustomed to one another. His shyness melted away. He got friendlier.

It’s been six or seven months since he first called. You’ve become very fond of him, but you have no idea what he looks like. So, one day, you decide to ask.

“Your voice is so sexy,” you start, giving him a line that you gave everyone, except this time you mean it. “I can’t help but wonder what you look like, Sanji.”

With other callers, you’d have to check what their name is before you say it. But you’re far past that point with him, and every time you say his name it makes his heart flutter.

“Well,” he says. “I’m blonde. And my eyebrows have a little… curl to them. I’m a decent height and I have a bit of a goatee.”

“And what color are your eyes?” You ask, trying to get the full picture.

He notes that question. It’s a thoughtful one. You’re thoughtful, in general. He knows that you are just being nice to him because, well, it’s your job, but also… he can’t shake the feeling that you have a soft spot for him. Do you talk to everyone like this?

“My eyes? Hmm. It depends on who you ask. I don’t know, really. Some people say they’re black, other people say grey, I’ve had a few tell me they’re blue. I’m not sure.”

You hum in response. There’s a beat of silence.

“What sort of eyes do you like?” He asks. He’s cheeky like that. You have the feeling that he has a real soft spot for you, too. Why else would he call you every week? There are plenty of others he could call. But he just sticks with you every time.

You respond. “It depends on who you ask. But historically I have liked guys with black, grey, or blue eyes. Do you happen to know anyone who fits the bill?”

He can tell that you’re smiling. He finds himself blushing, getting giddy for a few moments before he realizes that oh, right, you are at work, and oh, right, he is paying you to talk to him, like the loser he is.

His voice falters a bit the next time he speaks, a couple of seconds later. You know the exact thought that just went through his head. It’s something you are well aware of but… it does make you a bit sad with him. You like him far too much for your own good.

You wonder if you would like the look of him in real life, painfully single as you are. You wonder if he would like the look of you.

You might have a teeny tiny crush on this guy you’ve never met. Teeny tiny is a massive understatement. Just because he’s so consistent—you’ve never met a man as consistent as him—and so kind, and such a gentleman, even on the phone.

But tonight, the call ends earlier than usual. It seems that your open flirtation was a bit too genuine for him. Hit a bit too close to home. He finishes the conversation and dodges your attempt to take it farther.

“Thank you as always, beautiful. It’s a pleasure to talk to you. See you next week.” The phone hangs up abruptly. He’s gone now.

He always calls you beautiful, like everyone else does, but… it just means something coming from him. Maybe because he’s the only caller who has ever wanted to truly know something about you. And every time he hangs up, he says ‘see you next week,’ even though you never see each other. It’s cute.

You find yourself wishing he was still on the line. You’re a bit bummed that he hung up this early, not because you’re going to be left wanting for money (he always overpays), but because you always look forward to talking to him.

When you take the next caller, you’re quickly reminded that Sanji is by far the youngest and kindest of anyone who has ever called you.

---

“Hello?”

He’s on the line again. It’s Friday again, 11:30PM sharp.

You respond, tone warmer than it needs to be, given that you’re speaking to a client. “Hi.”

You’re glad to talk to him. Very realistically, this is the only interesting thing you have to look forward to—it’s not like you can afford to go out and party on the weekends. Or any day, for that matter. He’s your Friday night date every week. That doesn’t escape him.

“How was your week?” He asks, like he always does. He’s the only client who has ever asked you that.

You respond as frankly as you can without overstepping. “Hmmm. It was alright. Pretty boring, in general. It could have been better. How was your week?”

He pauses for a moment. “It was pretty good.”

“Tell me about it.” You prompt, and he begins detailing his week for you, as is your routine.

The things you know about this man’s life are random and vast, among them, you know that he lives in the city next to yours, he eats oats every morning for breakfast, and that he chain smokes as often as he can get away with (which is almost 24/7). You’ve been privy to him trying to cut back on his nicotine intake more than a few times, and he has never forgotten that you cheer him on every time he tries.

Among other things, this week he had to go to work on his usual day off (Wednesday) because the sous-chef called out (again). You can hear him roll his eyes when he says that. You roll them too, even though he can’t see.

He vents about that, and you hear him out.

“The sous-chef sounds like a real asshole,” you say. “Always has. Didn’t he call out a couple weeks ago?”

He laughs out loud at your honesty. “I fucking know, right? And yes, he did. It’s ridiculous.” Then his heart skips a beat. You really do pay attention to what he says.

“They don’t appreciate you as much as they should, Sanji. I bet I could talk some sense into them.” You say, and you both chuckle for a moment.

“What else happened this week?” You follow up, genuinely wanting to know. This man fascinates you. With how charming and sweet he is, it’s a wonder to you that he’s single. Also, the life he lives is quaint. He is a man of routine, a hard worker, and he’s driven. He has a strong and warm personality.

When he replies to your question, you can’t quite make out the tone of his voice—is that reluctance? Hesitation? Shyness? Or awkwardness? It’s hard to tell.

He responds to your question. “Well… I went on a date last night.”

Before you can wonder why, your heart starts to sink. Fuck. You really do have a crush on this guy, don’t you?

You regrettably (internally) acknowledge your disappointment. You do have a massive crush on this guy. And he’s your client. So, get a grip.

Your acting skills have to be excellent for this job. You make good use of them now. “Oh, a date?” You emanate the pinnacle of excitement for him. “How was it?”

This has happened maybe half a dozen times before. The dates always go well but the follow through rate is bad. Obviously. Or else he wouldn’t be here. But every time it has happened, your heart always sinks. Not a fun feeling.

“It went really, really well.” Sanji’s voice is happy. “Might have been the best date I’ve ever been on.” You know he’s smiling right now. Positively beaming. Your heart breaks a bit before you reprimand yourself. You have no right to like this man the way that you do.

He probably wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot-pole if he met you in real life (you tell yourself this, and you know it is a lie, but you try to say it to make yourself get a grip… needless to say, this strategy doesn’t work.)

“How was she?” You ask because you know he wants to talk about it.

“She was thoughtful, kind, and considerate. Very sweet. Kind of like you, actually.” He says, not realizing how much those words make your smile fall. “One of the cooks set us up. Like a blind date. I had no idea what to expect but she was gorgeous. Wow. So funny, too.”

His voice trails off. It’s your turn to talk.

“Awh, Sanji, I’m so glad. You deserve some attention.” Your voice is sugar coated like usual and his heart patters.

The conversation wanders into various topics. The woman he went on a date with is a veterinarian. That sours your mood. She must be real swell. Caring for sick animals and all that stuff. Ugh. The whole topic is forcing you to accept the fact that you like this guy wayyyy more than you should. You have no business having this intense of a crush on him, having this intense of a crush on a man who is, ostensibly, and for all intents and purposes, using you as his rent-a-girlfriend.

The pair of you then talk about relationships—has he ever been in one? (Yes, ages ago.) What is his love language? (Physical touch and acts of service.) What’s his type? (Essentially, you.) You ask him questions and he asks you them back. It’s a nice conversation, an intimate one, one that would have you feeling better if not for the fact that he just happened to have an amazing date.

After a while, the conversation dwindles. You know that he’s in the mood to do what this whole thing is really about—phone sex. When Sanji is in a really good mood or a really bad mood, he takes advantage of your expertise in this area. Tonight is the former.

“Is there anything else on your mind, handsome?” You ask, gauging what he’s up to tonight.

“Mmmm, there is. What are you wearing, gorgeous?”

You smile. He’s cute. Usually, you lie when men ask you this question. But with Sanji you tend to be a bit more truthful. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel like he’s going to get taken off the market soon and never call you again one day, or maybe it’s something else, but you’re getting the urge to be more candid and flirtier with him than you’ve ever been before. Real flirty, not work flirty. You’re getting the urge to step out of whatever character you put on when you pick up the phone.

“Do you want the regular client answer, or the Sanji answer?” You say, bold and not giving a fuck. Why not? He can have the real answer, hell, he can have some realness because you’ve talked for so long, and because you like him so much. Like you said, he deserves some attention.

“Oh. How about both?” He’s tickled and intrigued. “I’m flattered that I have my own option.”

“You always do. Well, the regular client answer would be that I’m wearing a babydoll slip dress made of black mesh… with a black lace thong and thigh-high black stockings. Do you like that?” Your voice starts to transform; it starts to drip pure lust, candied in honey and flattery. It’s a well-trained skill. Sanji gets hard almost immediately, tenting his pants and widening his thighs.

“I like it very much.” His voice is getting huskier, thicker. You love it when he sounds like that. His voice really is sexy. He continues. “Now, tell me the Sanji answer.”

“It isn’t nearly as glamorous. Do you still want to know?”

He nods, but it’s not like you can see him. “Of course.”

“I’m wearing a black tank top and blue plaid sweatpants. No bra, but I actually am wearing a black lace thong.” You laugh. “Very sexy, right?”

His voice comes out raspier this time. “It is, though. I much prefer the Sanji answer.”

“You’re sweet.” You say, and he can tell you mean it. “Now, what are you wearing?”

Sanji blushes and his erection strains against the fabric of his boxers. “Do you want the regular client answer, or the You answer?”

You laugh again. “How about both?”

“Well,” he continues. “The regular client answer is that I’m in black slacks and a white button down. A few buttons are undone and my sleeves are rolled up to my forearms. I’m wearing black loafers and black socks. Now, the You answer isn’t nearly as glamorous. Do you still want to know?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t have a shirt on and I am coincidentally wearing blue plaid sweatpants as well. Can you believe that?”

“No way. Really?”

“Yep.”

“Anything underneath?” Your voice is coy and his erection pulses.

“Yep. I have boxers on. Boring black ones.”

“And what’s going on underneath of those?”

He dryly chuckles and reaches down to rub his hard on for a second. “A lot.”

“Just what I wanted to hear.” You practically purr and he runs his palm over his bulge in response.

He lets out a soft groan that make you feel some sort of way. “Oh yeah? Y’know, even though I don’t really know what you look like, I just know that you’re looking sexy in your pajama outfit right now.”

Your witty reply is stopped short. He’s the only one who is this real with you. Most of the men on the other line tend to be creepy, old, and just downright weird. This is a dying profession, after all. Sometimes the other clients are rude and dismissive, too. But Sanji… you know he really means what he says.

“You’re adorable, Sanji,” you say. “I’d venture a guess that you look pretty good right now, too.”

“Mmmm.” He hums, heartbeat rising as he continues to palm himself. “I wish I could see you right now.”

You can’t tell if this is part of the fantasy. You really did wish you could see him, though.

“What would you do to me…” your voice is smooth as silk. “If I peeled off my tanktop and shimmied out of my sweatpants?”

Sanji’s breath hitches. Something feels realer than usual about this—knowing what you’re wearing right now, what you’re really wearing, is turning him on beyond belief (assuming that you’re telling the truth, but he always chooses to believe that you are).

“If I was there, I’d kiss you, actually.”

His answer catches you off guard. You’re not sure he’s said something like this before.

There is silence for a second. You don’t know how to respond, really. You decide to just respond honestly, without appearances. Fuck it. He’d probably be off the market soon if his amazing date was anything to tell for it, so might as well.

“Wow, that’s really sweet. I’m not sure anyone has said something that nice to me in years.”

He tuts. “That’s my lowest bar of sweetness. I can go much sweeter than that, my love.”

He’s never called you that before, either. You’re starting to forget that this is a work call. It feels distinctly different than one.

“I’d like to see how sweet you can get, Sanji.”

His cock twitches again. Fuck. You really have a way with words. You get him more riled up than anyone he’s ever met before.

You continue. “After you kiss me, what would you do to me?”

“I would kiss every inch of you.”

Your heart melts. Fuck. Is this guy a saint? Where does he get off being so suave?

“Mmmm. That sounds nice. I’d like to return the favor.” Your tone, to Sanji, is effortlessly erotic. The thought of you kissing every inch of him—yes, even those inches—has him grinding the palm of his hand over his cock.

“Sounds even better. Then, if you let me, I’d go down on you.” The blonde is starting to get worked up. You can tell from his voice—when it gets all husky like this, you know he’s about to start touching himself, if he isn’t already.

Also, the fact that he said ‘if you let me’ really struck you. No one had ever said that before in your line of work. He has the tendency to say things you’ve never heard before, and he always surprises you.

“Of course I’d let you go down on me,” your voice gets softer. “What exactly would you do?” You wonder if he’d be any good. Maybe his answer will be elucidative.

“I’d start by kissing up your thighs, one at a time. Then I’d very slowly, very gently kiss your clit. Hopefully it would feel good. After a while, I think I’d be able to tell if you liked it. I’d run my tongue downwards and taste you. And tease you as much as you’re willing to put up with.”

“Mmmm. I think I could put up with a lot.” You let out a breathy sigh. You’re starting to warm up between the legs. With that voice, and those words, and that mental image… it sounds divine. You’re about to let yourself get carried away. It’s tempting.

“Is that so?” Sanji decides to keep going with the fantasy as long as you’d let him. Frequently, this happens the other way around. You usually describe to him, in great detail, what you would do to him. Apparently tonight it would be the other way around.

“In that case,” Sanji continues, “I’d take my time with you. I’d push my tongue inside of you delicately at first, then harder, and switch between that licking your clit.”

You can feel that you’re getting wet. It has only ever been with Sanji that you’ve actually gotten aroused while talking to a client. Usually, you’re as dry as the Sahara when talking to clients. But this man does things to you. Sinful things.

“What else?” You ask, biting your lip and sneaking your hand lower. You decide that, just this once, it’s okay to get carried away.

He can hear it in your voice. The synthetic, sugary (but still very much erotic) tone is dissipating and he’s hearing, for the first time, your voice bathed in genuine arousal. Your breaths are quicker than usual, your tone is less composed, and he can tell that you’re hanging onto his every word.

At the same time that his hand goes under the waistband of his boxers, yours goes under your underwear. He starts to stroke himself, relishing the first ripples of pleasure from his hand, and you do something similar. Each movement of your fingers is accompanied by his voice, by some filthy image he puts in your head.

“When you’re moaning loud enough, I’d press my middle finger into you slowly, to make sure you’re comfortable. After a moment, I’d move my finger and caress you inside a bit, and if it seemed like you liked it, I would press my ring finger into you.”

You start to mimic what Sanji is describing. It feels dangerously good. A barely audible sort of gasping sound falls out of your lips and Sanji hears it. His fist goes faster. He hasn’t ever heard you make that sort of noise before—he’s heard fake moans, sure, they were still hot (and he always told himself they were real). Anything you did was hot. But this sort of noise was the sort that could only be caused by one thing—pleasure.

Sanji’s fist goes a bit faster when he concludes that you may be touching yourself. The idea makes him feel like he’s on fire.

“I’d curl my fingers inside of you and find your g-spot… draw circles around it and press it while I place some kisses on your clit. Would you like that?”

His question catches you off guard—you’re getting lost in the act of fingering yourself.

“Mmmm. I would like that, Sanji.”

“How would I know that you liked it?”

“I’d, fuck,” another soft moan slips out of your lips and Sanji squeezes his cock tighter. “I’d run my fingers through your hair and pull you closer. Buck my hips into your tongue so you, ah, get deeper.”

“What would you say?” His voice is low now, and you can hear a faint sound in the background. He’s fisting his cock to your conversation, which is nothing new, but it brings you more of a rush than usual right now because you’re touching yourself too. “What would you say if you liked how I ate you out?”

“Don’t stop,” you shudder, and it sounds like it would if he was actually eating you out. The noise makes his heart flip. He can hear wet sounds from your end of the phone, too. He can hardly believe his ears, but sure enough, he can make out the noises of you bringing your fingers in and out of yourself.

“I wouldn’t,” Sanji says and then groans. The obscene noise goes straight to your aching core. You’re going to orgasm soon. “I wouldn’t stop until you came all over my face and I licked you clean.”

“Fuck,” you mewl. “That sounds, ah, sounds like it would feel good, Sanji.”

“Does it feel good?” He counters, twisting his hand over the head of his cock. His fist brings down the precum that has been beading at his tip, and the sensation makes his hips rock up inadvertently.

“Mmmmphhh, I—yes, it feels good, Sanji. Feels so good.”

You curl your fingers inside, searching for the spot that Sanji mentioned before. You press on it as you speak. You know he’s going to love the noise you make.

He grunts and throws his head back. He’s going to cum soon. He’s going to cum if you say his name some more. He wants it. “Say that again.”

“Fucckkk, Sanji. Feels so good.”

“I love hearing you say my name. I’m—hah—‘m gonna cum if you do it again.”

“Sanji. Sanji. Sanji, fuck, Saannnjjjiii.” On repeat, you moan his name through your orgasm, which you finally allow to wash over you. He can hear it in your voice, can hear you trying to force his name out of your mouth between keens.

Your voice has never sounded so good. He’s sure now, sure sure, that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time and that you just came. It’s a first for him. He’s suspected your arousal at other times, but this time, it’s a confirmed fact. In an instant, the fantasy fades and he can see the moment for what it is—you’ve thrown away the pretenses, acting skills, and flattery, and, for a handful of minutes, you’ve been 100% yourself with him, more so than ever before.

That’s what makes him cum. Your unreserved sincerity and desire. It’s the hardest he’s cum in a long time—and that’s a high bar, considering the fact that any time he broaches these activities with you he cums hard.

When you’re both panting in the euphoric aftershocks of your orgasms, Sanji whistles. “Damn.”

You hum in agreement. “Wow.”

He cracks a joke. “So, am I supposed to send you an invoice after this one?”

He’s hilarious in general, and this one makes you laugh. “I might allow it.” Your tone is uncharacteristically bashful. You’re about to say something you’ll later regret. “I think you’re the only person who has ever gotten me off over the phone.”

Sanji is taken aback for a second. “Really? I’m honored. And surprised.”

You almost instantly regret oversharing, chuckling awkwardly before you realize that this is a work call, and you should act accordingly. But it’s hard to pull yourself out of the intimacy of this moment and you don’t want to. So… against your better judgment, you don’t.

“I’m impressed, Sanji. Maybe we should do this more often,” you say, and Sanji’s heart thumps again. “You don’t have to only call me once a week, you know.”

“As long as you won’t get sick of me, I would love to. And we can do this again any time, gorgeous. It’s seriously my pleasure. You don’t know what you do to me, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

While he’s saying the last part, Sanji realizes that this isn’t a favor, really. He tries to brush off that sad feeling for a moment but finds himself wondering what you really think of him.

It’s time for him to go to sleep, he concludes. He’s exhausted after a long shift and a hard orgasm.

“So, same time next week?” His voice is chipper.

“Mhm. I look forward to it, Sanji. See you later.” When the words leave your mouth, you wonder if he feels butterflies, too.

“See you later, sweetheart.”

Sanji hangs up the phone.

In your respective bedrooms, you’re both wondering what the fuck just happened. This call was full of lots of firsts and, little do you two know, the other feels elated.

But Sanji thinks about it more. He weighs his feelings for you against the practical understanding that he is, presumably, nothing more than a client to you. His heart aches at the thought.

And then he looks at his phone. The person who he went on a date with texted him while he was on the phone with you—she’s asking for another date. She says she looks forward to seeing him.

---

A week passes.

It’s Friday again.

11:30PM comes and goes. No call from Sanji.

In a span of over six months, this is the first time he hasn’t called you.

As you sit and wait for him, passing off other phone calls in case he decides he wants to speak to you tonight, your heart starts to sink.

Was last time a mistake?

Ten minutes go by.

Twenty minutes go by.

Many minutes go by. The time is now 12:30AM.

You’re left to conclude that last time was, indeed, a mistake.

You decide to take the night off. Your tears are making it hard to get any work done. You can’t put on that sultry voice and moan at old men in your current state.

There’s no denying it—his absence hurts you. Bad. Especially after last week. Especially after you admitted to him that you had never orgasmed over the phone before, and that you wanted to talk to him more often.

Why hadn’t he called you?

You wrack your brain for possibilities, but one major thing stands out. That date he went on. Maybe he went on another one and decided he liked them better.

Liked them better? You ask yourself after realizing what you just thought. He’s paying you to talk to him on the phone. Get over it. He isn’t going to keep calling you forever. What did you expect after last week? That he would just confess his love, offer to pay all of your bills, and that would be it?

You frown harder, hurting yourself deeper with your own rhetoric. The tears won’t stop.

It’s excruciating to realize that you like Sanji this much. You really like him. You know almost everything there is to know about him, too. And as much as you generally try to avoid giving out personal information, he knows a large chunk about you. Maybe that’s why it hurts so bad.

No, you tell yourself. Don’t kid yourself. You know it hurts this bad because you were hoping he liked you for real. You were hoping that this man, who you had never truly met before, who you had never seen, would, against all odds, decide that he wants you, even if he hadn’t seen you.

Fat chance, you tell yourself. Never do that with a client again, and this will never be a problem again.

---

Sanji does not call you back the next week.

Or the next week.

Or the week after that.

Or the month after that.

You are over it by the time the second month rolls around.

It’s pretty good timing, on your behalf. You think you’re really over this huge crush on a man you’ve never seen before. By the fifth month, you’re still telling yourself that you’re over this “crush”.

But that’s a delusion—any time you’re in public and there’s a blonde man, you find yourself scanning his face. Does he have a goatee? Could those eyebrows be considered curly? What color are those eyes?

When you see one that you think might be him, you always work up the courage to speak to them. But it never is Sanji. You would recognize that voice anywhere.

You wonder what you will say to him if he ever calls you again. Or if you see him in person. You decide that if he ever calls you again, you’ll either curse him out or break into tears.

In your most down-bad-hour, you contemplate showing up at the restaurant he is the chef at. You contemplate asking if you can see the kitchen. You just want a glance at him. A glance will keep your heart quiet.

But the joke’s on you—his restaurant is too expensive for you. Truly. You couldn’t afford a drink there if you tried. Okay, maybe just one. But you refuse to stoop to that level of desperation.

You’re a call away from him. He just has to dial your number.

You, on the other hand, have no way of calling or texting him. The service you work through scrambles client numbers before they’re patched through to you. The only way you know it’s Sanji is when he calls, at 11:30PM on the dot, on Friday nights. That’s Sanji time.

But it seems like Sanji time has come and gone.

You can’t shake the feeling that he did you dirty—but then you remember that he doesn’t owe you anything. This is your line of work. Phone sex. And that’s what you had. You just stepped over a boundary that you usually stay far away from. Whose fault is that?

No amount of logic can shake that feeling, though. You develop a little grudge against this man who you will never meet.

That’s what you tell yourself—that you’ll never meet him. But there’s a nugget of hope inside that, someday, he’ll call you. Someday he’ll kiss you. You try to obliterate that nugget though, as it is antithetical to the remedy to your lovesickness that you’re seeking.

Which will come first, him calling you, or you quitting this job that you’ve been meaning to quit for months at this point?

You hate to admit this to yourself, but he’s the only thing that was keeping the thoughts of quitting at bay. Maybe you really will quit this time around.

---

It is a Saturday night and you’re working again. It’s an unfortunately slow night, which sucks, because you really could use the money.

You’re scrolling on your phone, waiting for the next call to come in. It has been three hours with no calls. Guess all the creepy old men have plans tonight, which is such a shame because you need to pay rent soon. Sigh.

Time passes. You check the clock. It’s almost 11:30PM. The time doesn’t remind you of him anymore (well, much).

Maybe if you channel some of your good karma, ask the universe to cut a check of it right now, someone will call you for one long, lengthy conversation. You can help get them off as many times as they want. Five times in a row. You’ll break that record and go for six times if they just pay you. No questions asked.

Sure enough, a call comes through. You check the clock again. It’s been moving at a snail’s pace tonight. It’s 11:35PM. Hopefully whoever this is feels like talking.

“Hello?”

Your heart stops.

It sounds like Sanji for a second. But there’s no way. It’s been five fucking months.

“Hi.” You respond in your sugared up, sultry voice.

“It’s been a long time, gorgeous.”

It is Sanji.

Your heart flutters and your stomach flips. You’re speechless.

Don’t forget your game plans: curse him out or cry. But you can’t bring yourself to do either now that he’s waiting on the other line. You’re about to hang up the phone. You owe this man nothing and he owes you nothing—it’s that simple.

As you go to press the end call button, he speaks again.

“I’m sorry.”

The tears start now. The dam inside of you breaks. Hot tears pour out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You didn’t think that hearing his voice would have this strong of an effect on you. But the heartbreak that you once thought faded away is now back in full force.

He’s waiting for a response before he hears shuddering breaths from you as you cry. Your tears are all the confirmation he needs—he knows that he was right months ago when he worked up the courage to confess to you. He should have done it. He knows that he was wrong to take the coward’s way out. And he knows he was wrong to tell himself that you didn’t care about him and wouldn’t care when he disappeared, because he was just a client to you. He was so terribly wrong. The sound of your sobs shatters him.

“I should have called you before. I’m so sorry. And maybe you hate me for waiting this long to call you again. I understand if you do. I just couldn’t keep it inside anymore, I—”

“Where the fuck were you?” You cut him off. Your anger is starting to seep through the tears. Maybe the first game plan can still happen. “I waited for you, Sanji.”

He doesn’t even try to think of a comeback or excuse. He tells you plainly what happened and, even though it breaks your heart some more, it makes sense.

“Well… I finally found someone. Last time, after I hung up, I had another date with that person I mentioned, and it went really well. So, we just kept going on dates. It didn’t feel right to keep calling you when things with her were progressing so quickly. We got together, and—”

“I understand, Sanji. That’s all I wanted to hear. Thanks.”

You slam your finger down on the hang up button. Your heart is broken enough as it is. He can keep all that yapping to himself. Good for nothing heartbreaker.

So what, he was with whoever that was. So what, they love each other and have been together almost half a year at this point. So what, he was just a client the whole time and you had gotten your hopes up for nothing and—your catastrophizing is stopped in its tracks when your phone starts to buzz again. You feel like it’s Sanji.

You pick up the phone. It is.

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up, please let me finish, please.”

“What, so you can tell me how much you love your girlfriend? I get it, Sanji. You paid me to talk to you for so long that of course you got sick of it and finally got what you had been after the whole time, a loving, very real partner. I understand that I’m just a service to be used and discarded later. That’s fine. Goodbye.”

“No. Listen to me.” Sanji’s voice is stern and harsh, a tone you’ve never heard from him before. “We got together and then she very quickly dumped me. Do you know what she kept saying to me? She said I was too absentminded. She thought I was thinking about someone else. Dumped me after two months because I couldn’t give her what she wanted. Absentminded.”

His words hang in the air for a few moments while you try to process why the fuck he’s explaining any of this to you and why it matters. He continues. His voice is emphatic, hurried, and nervous sounding.

“And if I’m being honest, I was absentminded. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I know this sounds fucking ridiculous because we’ve never met, and I understand if you tell me to go fuck off because I’m sure this happens to you all the time, but… I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve tried to for months. Three months. I told myself that I was an idiot for falling for someone out of my league. And the crazy thing is, I don’t even have to see you to know you’re out of my league. The way you act is out of my league. YOU are out of my league. You’re thoughtful, and kind, and considerate, and you pause before you respond whenever you talk because I can tell you’re really thinking over your response. And you’re funny. And witty, and charming, and you never once made me feel weird or less than for calling and finding solace in you. I’ve been lonely for years. I make the first move all the time, but it never works out. And I know I fucked this one up, and I know I didn’t have a chance in hell with you to begin with, but I just, fuck, I had to get this off my chest. I love you. I fell for you the first conversation we had. Now please tell me to fuck off.”

You can tell that every word he is saying is sincere and earnest. You can hear the emotion in his voice. While you wipe your tears dry and mend your heart together, you take deep breaths. He can wait for your response. Like he just said, you’re intentional about your responses to people. Every word matters. Especially with Sanji.

“Do you know how bad it hurt after our last conversation to not hear from you again?” You start.

He winces. He knew that was coming.

“I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry. It was disrespectful of me, and callous, and if you hang up and never want to speak to me again, I understand and I deserve it.”

“You do deserve it.” You say, regaining some composure. “You really do, Sanji.”

“I’m sorry.” You can hear his frown. It’s a cute one. Fuck. His cute words are playing back in your ears too. So, he loves you?

Should you tell him how you feel? How you’ve felt for a long time?

One part of you is screaming at you to get a grip. But the other part—all the other parts—are finally, finally hearing what you’ve been wanting to hear for around a year at this point. That he likes you for you. That he sees you as you, and not some dolled up object of affection that’s only there to get people off and talk dirty to them. It has never been like that between you.

“If I accept your apology, Sanji, what then?”

“I—I actually didn’t think I would make it this far. But if you accept my apology, my next step is to ask you out to dinner with me. And to ask for your phone number. Your real phone number.”

You let out a long, deep sigh. “Sanji. My love. You could have told me these things months ago. It would have saved both of us so much heartbreak. I was devastated. Do you know that?”

You know that he already profusely apologized but you feel like driving it home a bit more. He deserves it. But while you talk, his hopes start to rise. You’ve never called him ‘my love’ before. Maybe that bodes well?

“I’m so sorry. I really am.” He sounds like he means it. You trust him enough to know that he does. Well, fuck it.

“Don’t think I’ll just forget about this because I’m head over heels for you, okay?”

“You—what?” He’s caught off guard. “You are?”

“Sanji. Yes. And you could have found out ages ago. Now, when are we going to dinner? You can apologize to me again then, too. And even if you don’t like what you see, you have to pay for everything. I’m getting an appetizer, an entrée, a dessert, at least two drinks, and whatever else I want. Okay?”

He laughs in relief. “Yes, okay. Yes. Holy shit, I didn’t think you would say that. I wish I could kiss you.”

“Wait—one last thing. If you decide you don’t like me after our date, Sanji, you have to tell me there on the spot. You can’t leave me waiting for another five months. You just can’t.”

“I promise, I won’t leave you waiting. I promise.”

When you hang up the phone a few minutes later (after more twisting the knife), you’re so thrilled that you can hardly breathe.

You can’t believe this is real life. You also can’t believe how quickly you just forgot your dignity, but you’ll unpack that later.

Dinner is set for tomorrow night. 7:30PM on the dot. Sanji is calling out of work, and he’s taking you to the (second) nicest restaurant in town (his is the first, obviously, and he wants to save that for a night where he can really plan ahead and spoil you).

---

When you get to the restaurant, Sanji is already there, waiting outside with a large bouquet of flowers.

He’s more handsome than you could have imagined. Of course he is. You do have great intuition, and you knew from the start that he was sexy. But… goddamn, he is sexy.

It makes sense now what he meant by curly eyebrows. He’s dressed well, too. He’s wearing black slacks and a white button down. A few buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. He has black loafers and black socks. And he smells good. And he smiles good.

He’s so nervous he could puke. He hopes that when he sees you the nerves will melt. But they get 20x worse because he’s enamored with you. You’re beyond his wildest dreams—no number of fantasies could have led him to guess that you look like this.

He’s so obsessed that he starts to stammer before you tell him to calm down, and that he’s making you nervous.

Over dinner, you catch up on everything you’ve missed in the past few months of silence. You fill him in on details in your life that you previously kept to yourself, and he sees a whole new side of you.

At the end of the date, he tells you that he still loves you, that he loves you even more now, and that he’s so so sorry. He says that he’s mesmerized by you, that you’re more than he could have ever dreamed of, and that you can count on him for anything.

You seal the night with a kiss. A long one. It’s so romantic that you feel a bit disturbed with how happy you are after.

And it turns out that yes, this is your big happy ending. You make a perfect pair.

Epilogue: The day that Sanji finally shows off the techniques he told you about long ago, you’re more than satisfied. In fact, it seems like he was actually underselling himself there. You always knew he was the modest type.

thanks for reading! this was inspired by a whole lot of laufey! i hope you liked it. i love sanji so much it hurts me ;(

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

divider courtesy of @cafekitsune tag list @eggrollforyou

[azzifuddfanpage]

I can fight

thank you so much for the anon who gave me this amazing prompt: you can read it here!

————

2.1k words (why was this supposed to be my short one)

Tw: none but I didn’t edit so good luck 😺😺

themes: fluff/ angst (not really, paige is just a jealous gf but what’s new)

————

Paige was in her dorm after practice, her hair still damp from her shower, and only a towel wrapped around herself.

She was about to dig through her closet for a hoodie and some basketball shorts when she heard her phone buzz on the table. 

Paige had been expecting a text from Azzi within the next ten minutes, telling her she was ready to get picked up from her rehab. 

Hearing her phone buzz, she wandered over hopefully, picking it up and watching as the screen lit up.

While she did see an Azzi notification, it was not the one she expected. 

“Azzi35 posted” her instagram notification read. 

Paige was immediately doubtful, maybe it was a glitch, Azzi never posts, especially not without telling paige first. It had to have been an add for sure- paige was just surprised she never heard anything. 

When she clicks on the link, Azzi’s dimpled smile fills her screen as she holds up what appears to be a tight body suit. 

Paige holds down on the video as the video jumps to each outfit. Starting with the body suit.

Paige feels the heat in her core burn as she sees the way her ass is accentuated by the way the tight material of the one piece clung to her curves, pulling her in at all the right places, highlighting her girlfriends perfect body. 

The definition of Azzi’s abs is slightly visible through the light material, and paige can’t help her self but zoom in on the fat of her ass as she watches as Azzi turns slightly to show off the rest of the look. 

Paige continues to watch the video, the feeling between her legs growing as Azzi switched into a two piece light blue set that made the tanned color of her skin pop. 

Paige watched the video the rest of the way through, resisting the urge to stop it, but she couldn’t hide the thoughts running through her mind as her beautiful girlfriend flaunted infront of the mirror.

Next Azzi appeared in the brown two piece- that showed off her belly button piercing, and had a zipper right between her breasts. 

“The zipper will not be of much use if she ever wears that around me.” Paige thought to herself as her eyes focused in on the way the pants sat loosely on her hips.

Even when paige thought the video couldn’t get much worse, paige watches as Azzi holds up a tight tank top and shorts. 

“Fuck” paige mutters under her breath, as her eyes wonder Azzi’s body, as she reappears on the screen in the tight black short set.

Paiges eyes wander up her tan legs, seeing the way the material bunches at her abs, and she can just see where the curve of her ass sits at the edge of her pants. 

She smirked as Azzi turned and checked herself out, (paige was doing the same- and had no right to be talking) but would definitely flame her for it later- but not before making her wear it in front of her so she could be the one checking her out. 

She watched needily as Azzi slipped on a tight robe, reminding Paige of the times Azzi would sneak into her room, body wrapped in nothing but a loose robe like that one, and let paige’s hands wander as she made them breakfast. 

As the video went on, and Azzi was now bundled in a zip up and sweats, paige felt a smile tug at her lips as she saw how warm and cuddly Azzi looked all wrapped up in the oversized sweats- paige lowkey wished that Azzi was wearing paige’s sweats but…

Lastly, paige saw the finally tight long sleeve, that drew paige’s attention straight to her breasts, and surely anyone else who was watching would see the same thing, paige would think to herself.

Paiges heart was still beating, Azzi’s beautiful body still flashing in her mind as she clicked on Azzi’s contact- not before saving the ad to her camera roll-, and called her. 

Azzi answers right away “I take it you just saw my ad.” 

“Babe I’m dying, why did you post that now when I can’t immediately put my hands on you.” 

Azzi rolls her eyes  “baby I don’t think it would have gone over well if I had filmed that in front of you. Remember the time I showed you the pink blazer and shorts I wore to the D’Amelio’s, and you almost didn’t let me leave the house?” Azzi reminded as paige smacked her lips together dramatically, 

“Chill, I’m your girlfriend of course I don’t want other people to see how beautiful my girl is.” Paige said pouting into the phone. 

Azzi felt a smile curl onto her lips at the thought of how protective Paige was. 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” Azzi said teasingly into the phone.

“Mmmm.” Paige breathed into the phone, Azzi’s words warming her chest. 

“You’re just cute period.” Paige started. “Looked so good in that ad baby. Didn’t even know what to do with myself. If I don’t see you soon might just start touching myself now.” Paige said, her voice a low growl, that made Azzi’s stomach drop to the floor. 

“I’ll be done in 15 minutes and you can come pick me up.” Azzi said her brain running in 50 different directions as she thought about all the things her and paige might have planned. 

Azzi thought she could hear the sound of the music of her ad playing again. 

“Paige are you seriously watching it again?” Azzi asked letting out a soft laugh. 

“Uhm ofc- you didn’t just think I was gonna watch my girl show off her precious body on the internet for my view to be less then everyone else’s… needed to see it on the big screen.” Paige continued, holding her iPad up to the camera that showed Azzi’s ad playing on repeat.

Azzi laughed. 

“I love you baby- be good and maybe I’ll put it back on and let you take it off of me when we get home.” Azzi continued, her eyes scanning paige’s face.

“We’ll see, you should see some of these comments, though. Gonna make it hard for me to just sit back and hear them all talkin bout my girl like this.” 

Azzi laughed as paige began to read some of them outloud. 

“Body so Tea British are coming.. man facts, that’s a bar though.” She continues “Marry me Azzi..” Paige rolls her eyes “she’s already married.” Azzi laughs.

 “Can Paige fight.” Paige scoffs throwing her head back as she plops onto her bed, “Brrooo I can’t do this I’m bout to say something.”

 “Paige calm down, they are just comments” 

“nah I’m bout to like that comment.” Paige said defiantly. 

“Paige Maddison! Don’t even think about it.” Azzi warned shaking her head. 

Paige let out a long sigh “when the season is over and one or both of us are not at UCONN anymore, I’m literally letting the world know how bad I can fight.” 

Azzi smiles “Paige I may be the peoples princess, but I was yours before I was anyone else’s.. you don’t have to fight for me baby. I’m yours.” 

Paige smiles “I love you princess.”

“I love you too,  feel better?” Azzi asked

Paige rolls her eyes “for now.” 

“But I’ll feel a whole lot better when they know you’re off limits.” She muttered. 

“Mommy fudd.” She sneered under her breath. 

“Alright that one literally sounds like something you would say under a fake account or something don’t even play with me right now.” Azzi laughed as paige pouted at the comment. 

“That was one time okay- and I couldn’t help myself.” Paige replied a blush covering her face and she smiled bashfully.  

“Alright baby I love you- the trainer is coming back in to do the shock therapy, but you can leave now and I’ll be ready when you get here. But until then you’re banned from reading any more of my comments until then.” Azzi said, wagging her finger through the screen. 

Paige rolled her eyes, “fine but only if you give me kisses for all the trauma I’ve endured reading those comments.”

Azzi returned the eye roll, “ugh don’t even start with me right now, I swear every other video on my for you page is an edit of you and girls thirsting over your fingers.” Azzi groaned. 

“Don’t even act like you don’t like them.” Paige said smirking. 

“The edits or your fingers?” Azzi asked teasingly. 

“I guess we will have to test it later, but my guess is probably a tie.” Paige said pretending to actually contemplate the pretty obvious answer. 

Azzi and paige continue going back and forth teasingly each other until Azzi’s trainer comes back in and has to hang up against the blondes defiant arguments. 

———

10 minutes later, Paige is in a car waiting for Azzi to come out of the training facility. 

A few more minutes go by and paige feels herself getting a bit impatient. 

To pass the time, she decides to look at the add again, and it still has the same effect on her and as soon as they get alone time she is showing Azzi just how much she liked it. 

She goes back to the comments and sees so many talking about if she can fight. 

Paige feels a brief moment of cockiness. 

A mixture of annoyance and confidence she sets up her phone, “man fuck it.” She says under her breath, recording herself doing the rizz hands, a couple boxing jabs at the phone before doing like a shimmy down her body, trying to turn it into some kind of dance. 

She leans back in the seat as she scrolls through the audio options, landing on a Rocky Balboa sound, and posts to her story without giving it a second thought. 

“Yeah I can fucking fight.” She mutters to herself. 

Within minutes the fans were already having a field day over the TikTok, screen recording it, making connections between that and their previous accusations, Azzi was gonna be so done with her. 

 it takes her only a few minutes for her to see a screenshot of the comment on Azzi’s video asking if paige could fight, pasted over the video of her hilariously uncooordinated stiff punches. Paige felt a wave of satisfaction grow over her knowing that she had indirectly claimed her girl. 

Her eyes scanned over the video, settling on the caption at the bottom that read, “omfg she is letting us know she can fucking fight. Damn Paige, claim your girl then.” Paige smirked and saved the tik tok edit and then put her phone down. 

A couple long minutes later, she saw Azzi’s figure- wearing one of her own hoodies- waddle out to the car, a compression sleeve covering her left leg. 

Paige greeted Azzi with a warm kiss, wrapping her fingers around her back, pulling in the warm body of her girlfriend. 

Paiges hands linger on Azzi’s back as she pulls away guilty.

“so I did a thing..” paige starts, a blush covering her face realizing her rash actions as she looks down at the seat. 

“that sounds ominous, what did you do..” Azzi asks cautiously, trying to interpret the red blush that is quickly spreading over paige’s cheeks. 

 “uhh yeah so I saw more comments about me needing to fight so yeah I uhm- fought.” 

Azzi gasps, bringing a hand to her forehead , “what does that mean paige.” 

Paige pulled out her phone and went to her story, she held it up so Azzi could see. 

Azzi watched as her girlfriend through uncoordinated punches and paired it with a stiff body roll. 

Azzi looked up from the phone, raising her eyebrow at paige. 

“What? I only added the body roll so people would be less suspecting- it could mean anything.” Paige shrugged. 

Azzi smiled, shaking her head in disbelief, “you are crazy.” She said as she gently shoved paige’s phone away, pulling her in so she could place a fat kiss on her cheek.

Paige giggled as Azzi’s lips tickled her skin. 

“you’re not mad?” Paige asked, raising an eyebrow as she placed her hand on Azzi’s neck. 

Azzi shrugged “private but not a secret.” 

Paige’s smile spread across her whole face before she pulled Azzi into a kiss, wrapping her up in a tight hug. 

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: My darlings, I finally wrote it 🫠🤭 I really hope you like the scene in Jungkook's room, and the continuation of the storyline. Let me know what you think, I'm always so happy to read your comments ❤️‍🔥💞

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi, @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult , @smokinghotstargirl, @curse-of-art (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 25. Black Dust.

Jungkook has parked the car in front of his parents' house. Together you dropped your parents home twenty minutes ago, after spending the evening together, where you and Jungkook confessed that you were dating. To say that your parents were happy is an understatement.

They were stunned, but that quickly turned to joy. Your mothers were especially happy because they had wanted you to be together for a long time and thought you were the perfect couple. Your and Jungkook's fathers were also happy about the news, but because they are men, they were more reserved.

The joy of the news was as if you were announcing that you were getting married or having a baby. It's just a relationship, but who knows what it can grow into. It's exciting for you to think that you might marry Jungkook someday. It’s fact, that you really can't imagine anyone else but him as your match.

Jungkook offered to let you sleep at his place, because as his girlfriend, you can now sleep in the same room with him without hiding.

Yonok sat next to you, holding your hand. She was smiling sweetly at you when Jungkook and his father got out of the car.

"Y/N, my favorite girl. If you only knew how happy I am that you two are dating. I couldn't ask for a better girl for my boy." - Jungkook's mom says sincerely. Her words touch you. You lean against her.

"I'm glad we told you." - You say. "It actually came so naturally." - You say, referring to your relationship with Jungkook. Jungkook's mom smiles as she fixes your hair.

"I've secretly dreamed of you two being together. Your mom and I often talked about it. It seems our prayers have been answered." - You smile at her. You've been guessing about this. Your mom often praised Jungkook to you, and treated him like her own son. Jungkook's mom loved you just as much, so it was no wonder they wanted their children to be a couple.

Jungkook opened the back door of the car, looking at you with a smile. His father stood behind him, waiting for you.

"Are you going to sleep in the car?" - Jungkook asks you two. You and his mom hurried out.

Jungkook and his father went to his home office, and you stayed with Jungkook's mom. She gave you clothes to sleep in, because you left all your clothes at home, not planning to spend the night at Jungkook's place. She sent you to the bathroom and went to prepare your bed for sleep.

You went into the bathroom and locked the door. For some reason, you felt terribly tired. It seems you are not quite well yet. The emotions you experienced today have dulled your bad feeling. But now that you were alone, you thought you would literally collapse.

You took off your clothes. Your breasts hurt and were sensitive. You looked at them and saw that they were enlarged. No wonder. During your critical days, your breasts would grow by half a size. You had pads in your bag. You wanted to change one for the night, but you noticed that there was almost no blood. You are surprised because not only did your period start earlier, but it was also strangely.

You went into the shower, turned on the water and just stood under the stream of water. Warm water gently poured over your body, and you closed your eyes, trying to relax.

The feeling of fatigue and pain in your body gradually became less acute, although you were still concerned about the change in your state of health. You stood in the shower for a few minutes, just listening to the rustle of the water and letting your thoughts fade into the background.

Moments of the evening came back to you: your parents, their joy, Jungkook's mother's words... You felt your heart warm as your relationship with Jungkook became more and more real. And yet, in the midst of this joy, you felt a sense of anxiety - what would this mean for you and him in the future? Was it as simple as it seemed?

You remembered the way Jungkook looked at you today: with tenderness, care... And when your mother said so sincerely that she had always dreamed of you being together, your soul blossomed. You didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but it seemed that everything had its place, and this part of your life was just beginning.

You closed your eyes again, sliding your fingers over your skin, feeling its tenderness after the water. The tiredness began to recede, but you still felt how hard it was to keep your eyes open. It was time to get out of the bath.

You gently toweled yourself off, not wanting to rush, and then picked up the things Jungkook's mom had given you for sleeping. It was Jungkook's t-shirt. She offered you her nightgowns, but you said that his shirt was just like a normal nightgown and you would be comfortable sleeping in it. Jungkook's mom agreed to give you his things without any problems. When you came out of the bathroom, you saw her, and she had already made the bed. She was smiling when she saw you.

"Are you okay, my girl?" - She asked in a soft, caring voice. "You look tired."

You smiled in a tortured way. Your tiredness is still on your face. But no matter how much you didn't want to show it, it was obvious how much it was draining you, and it was good visible to Jungkook's mother's eyes.

"I'm fine, but I haven't been feeling well for about a week. I think it's because of busywork. I've started preparing for my thesis and I'm also working." - You answered quietly. Jungkook's mom looked at you carefully.

"Honey, are you working? Why do you need to work? Jungkook makes good money. You should quit and spend more time on yourself and your studies." - She advises you. You press your lips together.

"Oh, I know Jungkook makes good money..." - You say. You even know what he does for a living, but you skip over those details. "But I would like to have my own money. But studies will start soon, and I think it will."

Jungkook's mom nods her head in the affirmative, smiling. She comes over to you and touches your cheek with her palm. Her gaze is caring and gentle. You see so many of Jungkook's traits in her. He is very similar to his mother and this caring look at you now is similar to the one you receive from him.

"That's right, dear. It seems like there's no need to ask you to move into his apartment because it's obvious that you live together." - She says. You want to say something back, but she speaks first. "Tomorrow I suggest we have dinner together again. Because you're leaving on Monday morning, and then we don't know when you'll be back. I think another dinner with your parents would be nice." - She suggested.

"Yes, that would be great. I enjoyed tonight so much, I'm ready to do it again." - You support Jungkook's mom's proposal.

"Then it's a deal. Tomorrow I will need to go to the supermarket and market to buy the best food for my dear girl." - Yonok says and puts her hand on your shoulder.

"I can go with you. I can help you make dinner." - You offer to help.

"That would be great." - Jungkook’s mother says. You smile.

"Okay, I'm talking too much as usual. Get some rest, my good girl. Jungkook should be back soon..." - Jungkook's mom says, just as the owner of this room enters. Jungkook notices the two of you, and a slight smile graces his face.

"Mom, dad is looking for you. He can't find the charger for his phone. He says you should know because you cleaned the living room today." - Jungkook says, stepping deeper into the room. He gives you a quick glance. In just a second, he has time to run his eyes over your figure, but without being seen by you or his mother.

"Oh, that Yonho. He took her to his office last night. She should be there." - Jungkook's mother gets annoyed. She walks to the door of the room and stops at the door.

"Good night, my children. Sleep well." - She says. You bow and smile sincerely.

"Good night, omony. Thank you very much for your kindness and care." - You thank her. Jungkook's mother gives you a smile for the last time today, tells you she loves you, and leaves.

As the door closes behind her, you meet a pair of mischievous eyes that always come with a playful smile.

"This looks like my thing." - Said Jungkook to you. He walks over to you and clutches the edge of his T-shirt in his hands. You look at him, wondering what he's up to. Is he trying to seduce you? You had sex today. It was reconciliatory and hot, the way you both like it. But now you feel too tired. You don't have the energy for one more time tonight.

"That's my thing for today." - You say casually. But Jungkook just frowned a little, and grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. He looked at you with the same familiar look he always gives you when he's close.

Jungkook's hand, which had just been clutching the edge of your T-shirt, slides underneath. You feel his hand move up your thigh, leaving tangible marks. The hand ends up on your buttocks and squeezes the flesh. In one swift movement, he puts you closer, leaving not even the slightest distance between you. You hold back a scream that almost escapes your throat. Jungkook smiles slyly.

"You should have remembered that I'm greedy for my things. So you probably won't be wearing it tonight." - He says, leaning down to your lips. You rest your hands on his chest, feeling hardness and warmth of it.

"Do you really feel sorry for the T-shirt for me?" - You ask. Jungkook laughs softly.

"No. But every time I see you wearing my clothes, I have an urgent need to take them off." - Jungkook confesses. You smile.

"That explains a lot." - You say. In a moment, his other hand goes under your shirt. He squeezes your other buttock, pulling you closer to his already semi-hard length. You want to protest, but he kisses you. His lips capture yours, and a second later you feel his sweet tongue on yours.

Jungkook's lips move against yours, and your kiss becomes deeper and hotter. His hands hold you down, massaging your buttocks, and your heart starts to beat even faster, but you knew this wasn't the time for that. Even though your underwear was already damp.

"Love..." - You try to tear yourself away from his demanding lips. You need to stop it as soon as possible. Because if you don't stop in a moment, it will be too late. Jungkook leaves your lips and slides his hands down your neck. He stops kissing your lips and seems to just prolong kissing your neck. But he's touching your erogenous zones, and it's making you more excited. "Kook... we're at your parents' house..." - You say. Your breathing becomes labored. Jungkook steps on you, forcing you to move toward the bed, and your mind screams to stop it.

"Yes..." - He says when you're already leaning your feet to the bed. "This house is mine too, and this room is also mine." - He states playfully. You look at him skeptically. You didn't mean that.

"We're not alone. And your parents might come in..." - You explain. Jungkook thinks for a moment and then answers.

"I don't think my parents will come in. Everyone here is an adult, so they understand what we can do here." - He says. You lightly hit him on the chest, where your hand was. He only laughs softly in response.

"Why are you saying that?" - You are outraged. "Even if they understand, we're not supposed to do that here."

"What do you mean we shouldn't?" - Jungkook was surprised. "You didn't want us to have sex while we were visiting our parents?" - Jungkook assumed.

"Yes. I thought it wasn't a problem." - You said calmly. "Besides, I'm on my period." - You reminded him. Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He didn't hide the disappointment on his face.

"When did we not have sex during your period? And why do you think we can't make love here?" - Jungkook says indignantly. You don't want to upset him, but you're not feeling well, and you're really worried that Jungkook's parents might hear you. You kiss Jungkook's lips gently, without using your tongue, to calm him down. He squeezes your buttocks lightly.

"Your parents can hear us." - You say when you stop kissing him. Your faces are close together. You want to add that you're tired, but Jungkook speaks first, breaking into a cheerful smile.

"So that's the problem. You're afraid that my mom and dad will hear you screaming my name..." - Jungkook leans down to your ear, presses his hot lips to your skin, and you instantly shiver. "…when I’m will fucking your tight, little pussy?" - He whispers. Fuck, that dirty tongue. You're literally leaking from his words. Jungkook is horny too, and he's clearly not going to relieve himself on his own in the bathroom when he has you.

"Jungkook..." - His name sounds like an exhaled breath on your lips as Jungkook reaches into your underwear with his hand while kissing your neck. He touches your aroused clit and builds up your orgasm with circular, slow movements.

"Are you drip with moisture on my fingers but want to stop?" - He asks you, admiring your blissful face. You grabbed onto his shoulders to keep from falling, because your legs were softening in direct proportion to his movements on your clit. When his finger entered your passage, you moaned softly. "So? Maybe I should really stop?" - He says demandingly. He sounds like he's mocking you. Instead of putting you on the bed and fucking you, he asks if he should stop. "Because we might be overheard." - He says sarcastically, and you think you're going to hit him if he doesn't shut his mouth.

Suddenly, he sticks his finger out of your passage. You open your eyes and feel your pussy and passage throbbing with excitement. You want him to put his finger back in.

Jungkook defiantly licks the finger that was in your vagina a second ago with his tongue and grins slyly. You bite your lip, looking at this picture in front of you. And fuck, you get even more excited.

Jungkook easily frees himself from your arms, letting you go. He goes to the door and locks it.

He comes back to you and immediately pulls off your shirt. You're left in just your panties and Jungkook's eyes fill with lust when he sees your naked body.

His attention is most attracted to your erect nipples. He looks at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. He raises his hand and touches your nipple, playing with his fingers. You bite your lip. He takes your breast in his hand and squeezes it. He leans down to take your bud into his mouth, but you scream softly in pain. He looks up at your eyes.

"Are they still sensitive?" - Jungkook asks, looking from you to the nipple.

"Yes." - You answer. Jungkook touches your nipple lightly with his tongue and you feel a little pressure. He sucks on your flesh and circles the nipple with his tongue several times. It feels good. You put your hands on his back. Jungkook doesn't ignore your other nipple.

It's getting uncomfortable to stand. So a minute later you're lying on the bed, and Jungkook is on top of you. He is comfortably positioned between your legs. His hard cock is still in his underwear and even his pants. He is pressing on your needy pussy. For some reason, Jungkook is in no hurry to undress and you are not at all satisfied.

"Take off your clothes." - You whisper between kisses. Jungkook smiles when he hears your request.

"If I take off my clothes, I'll fuck you." - He says, pulling his lips away from your skin. You look at him in surprise.

"What do you mean? Isn't that what you were planning to do?" - You wonder. He tilts his head to look at your face from a different angle.

"Well, you said that my parents might hear us. So I decided to listen you." - Jungkook says. Your eyebrows fly up and you smile almost hysterically.

He's lying between your legs right now, with his hard cock pressed in your pussy, and you're sure it hurts, and he's saying he won't have sex with you? That's nonsense. What kind of man is he? He didn't stop when you asked him to, he got you hot and now he says he doesn't plan to fuck you?

"Are you serious?" - You ask hysterically. "Then what are you doing now?"

Jungkook sees your irritation, and it only seems to amuse him more. He raises one eyebrow as if to ask: "What am I doing?" and then leans in closer again, leaving a slow, almost mocking kiss on your jaw.

"I'm just enjoying you, my love." - His voice is husky, dangerous. His warm breath tickles your skin as he trails his lips along your neck, leaving short, damp-hot kisses. His arms are around your waist, his body a constant test of your willpower.

"Enjoying that?" - You can't help but sound sarcastic, even though your lips give you away, trembling with his every touch. "It's more like torture." - Jungkook laughs-quietly, lowly, with that familiar tinge of smugness.

"Torture?" - He lifts up a little higher, meeting your gaze. His eyes sparkle in the semi-darkness of the room. "Is that what you call it?" - His fingers slide down your thighs, causing another flare of trembling.

"What do you call it then?" - You whisper, trying to keep your tone steady, but it doesn't sound convincing at all. Jungkook looks at you longer than necessary, studying you as if he were evaluating something important. And then he smiles-slowly, playfully, dangerously.

"Waiting." - His lips find yours again, and his touch is so sweet that you almost forget how to breathe. Your kiss becomes passionate, and with each new movement, almost insatiable.

"Don't tease me..." - Your voice is barely audible, and it sounds more like a quiet reproach than an accusation. Jungkook smiles.

"You started it first." - He accuses you. You are outraged. You didn't start anything first. You just said that it would be better if you didn't have sex when his parents are in the other room. Sex with Jungkook is always about incredible pleasure and you're used to not holding back. You are afraid that you will forget about caution at some moment.

His hands move higher, his palms run along your ribs, as if exploring every curve of your body. And it's a real torture to be so close to him, to feel his heat, to know that he's right here, but not to get what you want most.

"Tell me, you want it." - His voice is a velvety whisper that sends hundreds of electrical impulses through your body.

"Kook..." - His name sounds like a sin on your lips. You beg him, even though you forbade him not so long ago. He does not move on, does not hurry. He just waits. His eyes darken, he wants it as much as you do, but he stubbornly holds himself in check. His patience — is the last straw of your.

You crush your lips to his, tearing away all doubts, squeeze his shirt in your fingers, and pull him even closer. Jungkook doesn't pull back-he only sinks deeper into you, into your kiss, into everything you're feeling right now.

He doesn't hold back anymore. And neither are you. You move your hips, creating friction, so that he gets excited enough to tease you no more. He moves his hips to meet you and his length is painfully squeezed in his boxers. Jungkook pushes you sharply several times. You feel your orgasm building. You moan into his lips and he can't help but smile.

When you both run out of air, Jungkook breaks the kiss. He rubs against you to help you reach the pleasure you want. Your eyes remain closed and your face expresses absolute pleasure. At such moments, you look like the most beautiful woman in the whole world. Jungkook is happy that he is the only one who has seen that your face.

The friction you created brings you to bliss. You moan as you have an orgasm and Jungkook immediately covers your lips. Now your pleasure is vibrating on his lips. You stop, and Jungkook pulls away from your swollen lips.

"You have to be quiet, baby." - He reminds you. You breathe heavily, stare at his lips a little confused and try to understand what he's saying. The impression of the orgasm makes you detached from reality.

"This is what I told you about." - You complain without any anger. "I don't know how to be quiet with you." - You confess. This confession boosts his ego.

"I love it when you scream from my cock inside you. Damn, I want to fuck you so bad right now. But you have to promise me to be quiet." - Jungkook asks you. His desperate voice makes you throb between your legs. You want him as much as he wants you.

"Only if you shut me up." - You say jokingly. You leave it up to him to decide what he can use to gag you. Jungkook smiles slyly. He leans closer, and that smile makes you tremble in anticipation. His fingers gently touch your chin, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

"Oh, baby..." - He laughs hoarsely, running his thumb over your lips. "You have no idea what that sounds like to me."

You gulp for air as his gaze darkens, full of promise and desire. His palm moves to your neck, his thumb still lingering near your lips, and you instinctively open them, letting his touch in.

"Do you want, I shut up you like this?" - His voice vibrates, it's dangerous, and it sends pleasant shivers through your body. You nod, sucking on his finger as if testing his reaction.

Jungkook's cock twitches as he imagines those beautiful lips wrapped around his length.

"So we play by my rules?" - He leans down to your neck, leaving a hot, shaking kiss that makes you barely hold back a soft moan. His hand slides steadily lower, leaving hot marks on your skin.

"Yes." - You agreed.

"Okay, my obedient girl..." - He whispers in your ear, and you know that whatever he has in mind will be both torment and bliss.

Jungkook gets up and undresses without breaking contact with your eyes. You raised yourself up on your elbows to better see the picture in front of you. There was something fascinating about watching Jungkook undress.

Jungkook took off his clothes slowly, as if he was deliberately stretching out this moment, enjoying the way you were looking at him. His gaze never leaves yours, watching your every reaction, every movement of your lips, every movement of your body.

Usually, a passion between you makes you move quickly and do everything in a hurry, but today it's something new. Jungkook does everything slowly and leisurely. You find it both annoying and exciting.

You bite your lip, feeling a hot wave spreading inside you. In the semi-darkness, his figure looks even more attractive - clear lines of muscle, smooth skin, tattoos spreading ink across his arm and shoulder.

Jungkook notices how you don't take your eyes off him, and his lips stretch into a satisfied, sly smile.

"Do you like what you see?" - His voice sounds deeper than usual, and it chills you to the bone. Jungkook, in turn, looks at your body and is already planning to fuck you properly right after he takes off your clothes.

You decide to take part in his game. When he takes off his shirt, you smile seductively. You gracefully get up from the bed, leveling with him. Jungkook watches you carefully.

You still didn’t answer his questions. You run your fingertips along his forearm and then slowly slide them down his chest, as if you're checking to see if he's real. Jungkook sighs heavily, his muscles tensing under your touch. Then you lower your hands to his waistband, place your hands on top of his palms, which wanted to undo the button on his pants but didn't because you were distracted him. You gently push his hands away, showing that you will do it yourself.

You look down between your bodies. You undo the button, grab the fabric in your hands and pull it down. You bend down to pull down his pants and see his cock. He is aroused and most likely wants to get rid of the underwear. You straighten up and now want to take off his boxers. But instead, you just slide your hand into his boxers and find the tip that immediately twitches when it feels your fingers.

"Don't play around, love..." - Chunguk whispers, catching your hand and squeezing it lightly, not letting you continue with your plan. "Because I can forget all caution." - You look at him, holding your breath, and then smile slightly.

"Maybe that's what I want?" - You say. "It's fun to tease, now I understand you." - You hum, looking directly into his eyes. Jungkook freezes for a second and then leans over to you.

"Then don't blame me for what's about to happen." - He warns you. He gently places you on the bed and takes off your underwear. The air touches your folds and you feel cool. Between your legs is a mess because you're aroused from yours over-the-top games. Jungkook also takes off his boxers in a matter of seconds.

The mattress bends under his knees as he settles between your legs. You see his thick hard cock bouncing as he moves. Jungkook spreads your legs at his convenience and smears your wetness over the folds. Then he plunges two fingers inside you. He stretches you so that you can take him as painlessly as possible.

Jungkook creates pressure on your walls and this already gives you some pleasure. He doesn't wasted many time for a long time because he wants to enter you already. Jungkook takes his fingers out of you. You don't even have time to realize what he did, because he's already got his cock against your entrance.

He presses and sinks in slowly to make you comfortable. You feel euphoric as his length fills you. Jungkook goes all the way in and moans gutturally. He doesn't move for a while, and then he leans down to you, placing his elbows on either side of your face. He gives one slow, deep thrust and you hold your breath. Which threatens to escape in a loud moan.

Jungkook admires your beautiful face and makes another, similar movement, and surprisingly, it gives rise to a feeling of butterflies in your stomach. His lips cover yours, and you realize that from that moment on, you lost control. But did you really have it?

Jungkook fucks you, covering your mouth with his lips. You moan into his mouth. Your hands are on his back. His cock is so good clings you, and to ease your sensations, you dig your nails into his flesh at first. But the faster and deeper Jungkook moves, the more stimulated you feel. You can't stand it any longer and scratch his back.

Jungkook smiles against your lips, feeling the pain of your scratches. He detached from your lips.

"Is that good?" - He asks. He knows how good you feel. Doesn't his scratched back speak for you? "You take me so well, baby. I love fucking that pussy. I'm happy that she's mine. She's mine and she'll always be." - He whispers as he continues to fuck you. You're going crazy at his words, because you're happy to have a lover like Jungkook.

He gives you so much pleasure that your feelings for him grow more and more every day. Your love is getting stronger. You are perfect for each other in and out of bed. You could only dream of such a guy.

"I love you." - You whisper. These words make Jungkook stop. You open your eyes and see his face so close. His eyes dart between yours, searching for something. You stretch your lips into a smile. "I belong to you completely. I don't need anyone else but you. I love you and I will always love you." - You say a little louder. These words fall from your lips easily and sincerely, because they are the real truth.

"I love you too." - He finally says. He tries to calm his breathing. "You're the girl I've always wanted to have. I'm lucky that my feelings are mutual." - He says. You feel a lump in your throat. You shouldn't cry in the middle of sex. Jungkook suddenly thrusts, continuing what he's started. You gasp in surprise at his actions. "I love you. And I'm ready to prove it to you every day." - He says as he fucks you. You think you're in some kind of paradise, but if isn’t paradise, then what? His declaration of love, his movements inside you, it all makes you so happy.

Jungkook kisses you again. Your lips merge in a gentle kiss full of love. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Baby, I want you on all fours." - He whispers against your lips. You hoped he would finish with you in a lying position.

"Can we finish the way we started?" - You ask hopefully, not wanting to get up. Jungkook gets up and out of you, and which means that no, it will be as he wants.

"Come on, love, give me your ass here." - He says, helping you to stand up. Jungkook reaches for the pillows to put under your stomach. He puts them in front of you and helps you down. You lie down on top of the two pillows, resting most of your body on your elbows and exposing your ass to him.

It's a gorgeous sight for Jungkook's eyes. He can't help but be tempted to slap you at of your smooth skin. When you feel the blow on your buttocks, it's like you wake up. You want to look up at Jungkook, but you don't have time because he's pressing down on top of you. His hand is on one side of your head, and his lips are on the other, pressed against your shocked face.

"What an ass." - He praises. "By the way, have you heard of anal sex?" - He asks. You freeze. His question has confused you so much that you've forgotten how to speak. You feel your cheeks flush. You've heard of it, of course, but you don't understand what it means. You've also heard that it can cause a number of problems.

"You don't want to do that." - You say in response. "You're just curious, right?" - You ask naively. You feel him touching your buttocks with one hand, the one he's not leaning on.

Jungkook straightens up behind you. He raises your hips, forcing you to lean more on your knees and lift your ass up. Jungkook finds your clit and caresses it with his finger. You moan, but into the bed, so you can hardly be heard.

"I'm not just curious." - He says, firmly. You jerk your head up. Jungkook takes his length in his hands. He puts cock against your buttocks and presses just a little. You raise your head in embarrassment and he stops you, taking you into his arms. His hands are on your stomach.

"Jungkook, I'm not ready to do this." - You say in confusion. You can't turn your head to him because he's holding you close to his body. You hear him laughing softly.

"Honey, calm down. I'm not going to fuck you in the ass. Not tonight." - He says. And his phrase "not tonight" doesn't calm you down at all. His hand goes down to your cunt and caresses you, and you forget what you were just talking about. Jungkook kisses your cheek, showering your face and then your neck with short kisses. He tortures your clit and you moan. "You said you were on your period. Why isn’t there any blood?" - Jungkook asks, noticing that you’re not bleeding like you should during your period. You don’t answer right away. When you’re dealing with the sensations from his finger, you say.

"I was bleeding, but for some reason I’m not. Maybe I should go to the doctor." - You answer. Jungkook hums behind you.

"Yeah, sure. I’ll take you." - He says. But enough talking, Jungkook plans to finish and bring you and himself to orgasm. "Come on, get on your elbows, I'm finally going to fuck you properly."

You listen to him without question. You get down on your elbows, pushing your ass up. Jungkook puts the tip of his cock against your entrance and enters you again with no pain. He starts moving inside you, holding your hips with his hands. You moan and hold back the screams that want to escape your lips. You literally has to bite you until you bleed to keep your moans quiet.

Jungkook behind you is also moaning. Your tight cunt swallowed him so well. Your tight walls give him absolute pleasure. He looks between your bodies and sees your asshole so close to his pubes. He puts his finger between your buttocks with a little pressure. You notice to it, but you can't say or do anything. He fucks you and you seem close.

"I would love to have that sweet ass one day." - He says in your ear then, leaning against your back.

"Kook..." - You say on an exhale. You want to argue that you wouldn't want to, but you can't. Jungkook is hitting your G-spot and you're about to come.

"Will you let me?" - He asks. You won't let him. Because you don't understand why you have to do it. Jungkook cuts into you sharply and deeply. You want to scream. Your moans are getting louder and louder and you might be heard. "Shh, keep quiet, baby. Otherwise, how will you look my parents in the eye in the morning?" - Says Jungkook. You can't do it anymore. Then you should stop. Jungkook seems to read your mind. He straightens up behind you.

His hands grip your hips as they did before and he starts pounding you fast and hard with his cock. If you were alone, you would be screaming from the sensations his cock is giving you, but now you can't do anything but moan into the pillow.

A series of quick strokes and you cum all around his length. Jungkook feels you choking on his cock and in just a few thrusts he comes right after you. He fills you with cum and you can't care about it because you just don't have the strength.

Jungkook stops jerking inside you and pulls out. You fall exhausted on the bed and breathe heavily. Jungkook lies down next to you. You are hot, both of you are sweating. Jungkook looks at you, and you lie there catching your breath with your eyes closed.

"Are you alive, love?" - He asks with a smile. You smile weakly. You have no more strength left for anything.

"Half." - You joke. Jungkook leans over to you.

"Have I completely exhausted you?" - He asks, caring, though you can feel him smiling. You open your eyes and see your beloved man above you. He touches your lips with his own and lets go after a moment.

"It was worth it." - You praise the sex with Jungkook. You couldn't have refused him after the first kiss. Even though you were tired and only had the energy to get to bed and fall asleep. But now you're definitely without the slightest bit of energy.

"Do you want me to carrying you to the bathroom?" - He offers. His offer sounds so tempting. But what if Jungkook's parents are still awake and notice him carrying you to the bathroom? What will they think? You shake your head in denial.

"No. I'll go by myself, but after you. I need to catch my breath." - You say. Jungkook agrees and goes to the bathroom first, while you put on Jungkook's T-shirt and straighten the bed. Fortunately, you were almost careful. Only a little bit of Jungkook's cum, which probably spilled out of you when you sat up straight. You wiped it off with a damp napkin that was in the room and let the place dry.

Jungkook took a quick shower. You also took a bath for the second time that evening. It took you less than 10 minutes and luckily you didn't run into either Jungkook's mom or his dad.

You walked into the room and noticed that Jungkook was already lying on the bed. He was running his fingers over the sensor, obviously typing a message to someone. You crawled under the covers. The place where you cleaned was still damp. You moved over to Jungkook, hugging him. As soon as he felt you move in, he blocked his phone and pulled you closer to him. You leaned your cheek against his chest and sighed, enjoying his warmth.

"Are you okay, baby?" - Jungkook asks.

"Fine, thanks to you." - You answered. Jungkook kissed your temple. There was a silence between you and him. You listened to his steady breathing and heartbeat. You noticed that his heartbeat sounded like asmr to you. Jungkook ran his fingertips over your back, as if unconsciously drawing some patterns. The warmth of his palms soothed you.

You closed your eyes, trying not to think about anything, just to enjoy this moment, his closeness. But through your half-asleep state, you suddenly felt Jungkook tense up slightly.

Someone had sent him a text message, because the phone on the nightstand vibrated. He reached for the phone and you looked at the screen unnoticed by him. Who could be texting him at this hour?

Jungkook unlocked the phone and you saw who it was.

00.13 AM. Sunday | Jimin: You'll be contacted by Ingwon tomorrow. I don't know when exactly, but it's definitely tomorrow. You have to make an appointment. He wants to discuss the details of the black dust delivery.

Jungkook writes a short reply, "I'm waiting" and locks the phone. He puts it on the nightstand with the screen facing down. You pretend to be asleep, but you remember that he promised to tell you why he was upset when he got home from work early today. That's what you had a little argument about.

"Jungkook?" - You call out to him quietly. He didn't answer right away, just held you even tighter.

"I'm here, my love." - He says in a soft mumble. His voice sounds deeper and hoarser, as if it were not his own. You pulled away a little to look at him. His eyes were closed, but you could tell by the clenched jawline that he was awake.

"What are you thinking about?" - You ask from a distance. He opens his eyes and moves his head back a little in a groan and looks at you. He holds his gaze on you for a moment and then sighs, as if he's weighing what to say.

"About a lot to do." - His fingers lightly touched your hair. "A new task has come up. It's a bit of a tense for me." - He finally admits. You feel both relieved that he's opening up to you more and anxious because you know what kind of work Jungkook is into.

If he says that the case is "tense him", then it's something serious and definitely dangerous. You inhale softly, remembering the message from Jimin. Was it something to do with the "black dust"? What is it, exactly? Some kind of weapon? Or drugs?

"Is it... something dangerous?" - You asked, although you already knew the answer in your heart. Jungkook again delayed his answer, and then only lightly touched your forehead with his lips.

"It's just business. You don't have to worry." - He says, and you feel his lips moving on your forehead.

"Every time you tell me not to worry, something bad happens." - You complain without anger in your voice.

"Really?" - He asks with a bit of irony.

"Yes. I still know it's something dangerous." - You whisper, looking into his face. He held his gaze on you, and then ran his fingers lightly over your chin.

"And what are you going to do about it?" - He ask you with the same irony. You press your lips together indignantly. He think this is supposed to made it a joke? Sighing, you decide not to argue with him. You cling to him tighter, inhaling his familiar scent.

"If I can do anything about it?" - You answer the question with a question. There's silence between you again, but this time it's heavy. "I just want you to be safe." - You say desperately. Jungkook smiled, just a small smile, at the corner of his lips, but there was no real peace in his eyes.

"I just want you not to worry about things you can't control, baby." - His voice was warm, but he sounded tired.

"Jungkook." - You called to him softly but insistently. "Does this have anything to do with what upset you today?" - You finally ask him directly. You raise your eyes to look at him. He doesn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on you, dark, attentive. Then he unclenched his fingers, which were holding a few strands of your hair, and nodded slowly, as if hesitating.

"Yes." - He confessed to you. Your heart sped up.

"So what happened?" - You ask, and you're really afraid to hear what might have upset him. But you don't think he will tell you the whole truth. Jungkook took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, looking away.

"Namjoon wants me to take on a serious case. But something about it is... not right..." - He paused, as if searching for words. "I mean, the target and the people who will be working on this case are too murky. I suspect why Namjoon wants me to be the one to do it. Jimin says he wanted me to do it right away." - Jungkook thinks out loud. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"And why does he want you to do it?" - You ask cautiously.

"He wants to give me even more responsibility." - He replies. "But he promised me that if I do everything perfectly, he'll cut my debt in half."

"He's offering to cut your debt in half? Why not the whole debt?" - You ask, slightly protesting. Jungkook thinks about it. Yes, this case is worthy of his full debt relief. Why did he only agree to write off half of it?

"Maybe I was really screwed." - Jungkook hummed. He rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. His hand was still on your back, warm, strong, but you could feel the tension in his every muscle. You gently touched his cheek, making him look at you again.

"I think you should try to bargain with him for your all freedom. If you want to leave the world of the mafia, that is. Especially if, as you say, he wants to give you more responsibility, that means he's not going to let you go at all." - You pause, staring at his face. "But whatever it is..." - Your voice was quiet, but confident. "Be careful."

Jungkook stared at you and then, without a word, gently pulled you closer for the hundredth kiss of the night. Your lips are his panacea. He pressed you against him, and this kiss was different-slow, tender, and full of emotions that could not be expressed in words. You felt his arms hugging you tighter, but with some special care.

"Let's go to sleep." - He suggests. You smile and make yourself comfortable next to your lover. You turn your back and Jungkook hugs you from behind. You try to fall asleep.

After a while, Jungkook hears your steady breathing and realizes that you have fallen asleep. His thoughts are full. He's trying to figure out what the new task Namjoon has given him will mean for him. His mind is replaying the events that happened before you left for your parents' house.

Jungkook stood in the semi-darkness of the garage, listening to every word through his phone, ignoring the extra fuss around him. He had a package of documents in his hands, and he had just finished negotiating with one of the arms suppliers, the deal were smoothly. The phone suddenly vibrated, and Jungkook picked it up without hesitation to see a call from Jimin.

"Jungkook-ah, Namjoon wants to see us all. You need to come to Indigo right now. Put aside everything you're doing." - He says. Jungkook can hear the tension in his voice. It's been a long time since Namjoon has called everyone together. It must be something very important.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. I've just finished my business." - Jungkook replies.

"Great. We'll all be there. At the first VIP as usual." - Jimin informs him.

"Is something wrong?" - Jungkook tries to find out something.

"This isn't a phone call." - Jimin says. Jungkook exhales sharply.

"I'm on my way to the club." - He says, and when he hears Jimin's "waiting," he hangs up. He tells his assistant that there's no work for today, so he letting him go. Jungkook did not like such meetings, he felt that this time something serious was going to happen.

He went back to the car, starting the engine loudly, not paying attention to the city lights outside the window. He was supposed to be on his way to pick you up and go to parents' house. He texts you that he will be delayed indefinitely because he has some urgent business and will come to pick you up as soon as he is free.

Club “Indigo” was located on the outskirts of Seoul, where the rustling noise of the city met the silence that enveloped the place. The entrance was decorated in a modern style, mixing techno and classics, and inside it was hard to distinguish where baroque ended and modern began.

The ceiling was decorated with abstract paintings that resembled Cubist works - colored fragments were folded into strange shapes that began to tell their own story when the angle of view changed. It was a special club where art and business were intertwined. Everything here was reminiscent of Namjoon himself, his taste and preferences.

Jungkook entered and walked straight to the VIP room, feeling like every glance that fell on him was filled with a certain attention. Everyone was sitting in the room: Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi. Everyone in this circle knew their role and business, and each of them had a part of what the “Run Noir” clan lives for. But Namjoon, as always, was in the center stage.

Namjoon sitting down a wide leather chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. A painting with an abstract expressionist pattern hung on the wall behind him. He looked up as Jungkook entered.

"Great, now we're all here. Come in, Jungkook-ah, have a seat." - He invited Jungkook with a smile on his lips.

"Good evening." - He greeted everyone present. Jungkook bowed his head and bowed in respect. He sat down in an empty seat next to Jimin, who smiled cautiously and pushed glass with alcohol to him closer. Jungkook just nodded, but he wasn't going to drink. He still had to drive.

Namjoon didn't delay and got right down to business. It was obvious that while they were waiting for Jungkook, they had already discussed some of their business.

"So, why did I bring you all here?" - Namjoon began. All eyes were on the clan leader and he was pleased with the attention. "I have always strived to be the best at whatever I do. And I was doing it well. Of course, I would not be where I am without you. But you all know me well, I never rest on my laurels and always strive to push the boundaries. The status of my clan today allows me to enter a new level of the international market. I want to sell Uranium." - Finally, he finish announcement. Namjoon meet silence and attentive stares. Everyone is silent, not wanting to speak their minds.

Jungkook cautiously glances around to see what everyone is thinking. Jimin and Hoseok are the ones who can't hide their surprise, and their faces show it very eloquently. Yoongi, the shadowy leader of the clan, looks bored as usual, he probably already knew his partner's plans. Jin and Taehyung are calm but tense.

"Uranium? But why do we need it? You do realize how much attention it can attract, right?" - Jin was the first to break the silence. Namjoon nodded, obviously expecting this question.

"I know. But this is exactly what can help us strengthen our position. I want to go far beyond Korea. Uranium is a good source of power and money. I want to use this moment to get rid of any competition with the “Black Pearl”" - Namjoon replies. He takes a sip of alcohol and feels it burning in his throat.

"How exactly do you want to work with Uranium?" - Jungkook asks. Everyone turns their attention to him. But Jungkook only looks at his leader.

"There are three classifications of uranium, but we will only work with two. We will sell depleted uranium through the military, which is used in armor-piercing shells,for example, for tanks, and may be of interest to arms smugglers, and we will sell energy-grade uranium for nuclear power plants." - Namjoon explains. Jungkook raises his eyebrows slightly as he considers Namjoon's words. Where did he get this opportunity? After all, working with the military and nuclear power plants is a very high level. Someone has to cover this case well? Or does he want to pull off this plan himself?

"And how will it all happen? How do we get around the government, or will they cooperate with us directly?" - Jimin asked. Namjoon looked carefully at Jimin, who had asked an important question, and clutched his glass in his hands, thinking about his answer for a while.

"No, the government will not cooperate with us." - He answered, and everyone realized that the plan could not be that simple. "I want Jungkook and Hobby to do the first work." - He looked at them in turn. "You will have to organize the transportation itself. But I already have a plan for how it should go. We need to make sure that the police and the Ministry of Defense don't even know about the deliveries. And believe me, it will not be easy. Once the authorities find out, they won't be able to leave us alone."

Jungkook pondered Namjoon's words, his gaze becoming even more intense. He and Hosok were going to take on this project, and that meant taking a huge risk. The task was not an easy one: no mistakes could be made.

"You mean we'll have to use front companies?" - Taehyung asked, looking at Namjoon.

"Yes." - Namjoon nodded. "We will set up several front companies through which we will work with the military and nuclear power plants. This will give us cover for our operations. It's also important that we involve people with the right connections, people who can solve any issues with customs or other agencies."

Yoongi, who had been sitting quietly, leaned back and spoke with an expression of extreme indifference, but his words sounded sharp.

"We'll need to have someone in place to coordinate everything. Someone we can trust to make sure there are no unexpected situations." - He said.

"I've already thought of that." - Namjoon chimed in. "I've already found the right people. But the thing is, it's going to be very confusing, and everyone has to work according to their own plan without knowing the details of what the other is doing."

Hoseok, who had been sitting quietly until now, looked up and spoke, a little nervously.

"We'll have to hide a lot, including the uranium shipments themselves. How are we going to transport it? I mean, are there any safe ways?" - He asked. But before Namjoon could answer, Jungkook gently raised his hand to indicate that he wanted to add his own opinion.

"It will be possible to use underground routes, logistics corridors that are not controlled by the authorities. But this also requires careful organization. And we need to take into account that the transport can be checked. Perhaps we should think about some more unique delivery methods?" - He suggested. Namjoon smiled when he heard Jungkook's ideas. He knew it would be difficult, but he trusted each of them.

"Yeah, it's all very complicated..." - He replied. "But you have experience. I trust all of you, and I know you can handle it. Now we have to act quickly. We cannot afford to be late. Uranium will give us great power, but if we make a mistake, it could lead to disaster."

Everyone understood that the clan's activities were reaching a new level, and if everything worked, they would have unprecedented influence. When all the details were discussed and everyone moved on to more casual conversations, Jungkook was about to leave. He stood up from the couch, drawing attention to himself.

"Can I go now? I still have things to do." - Jungkook asks Namjoon for permission. The latter nods his head kindly. But then he gets up from his chair and walks towards Jungkook.

"Let me walk you out." - He offers. Namjoon slips his arm around Jungkook's shoulder as walks over. The members realizes that Namjoon is having a personal conversation with the youngest.

They leave the VIP room and head to the parking lot. Namjoon walks in a relaxed manner, unlike Jungkook.

"You handled the medical device so well the recently, and proved to me your loyalty and that you know how to do your job well. That's why I want you to keep an eye on things when we start working with Uranium." - Namjoon says seriously, and stop. Jungkook stops next to him. "I promise I'll forgive half of the debt if you set up all the uranium delivery work. And then you will only have to work for me for two years. You know how much I want you to stay, but I also want it to be your initiative. I see great potential in you and you are the best at what you do. I need people like you. I really trust you, kid."

Jungkook was surprised to hear about the debt. Only two years and he would be free? It sounded almost unreal, like a chance he hadn't expected. He fell silent and was lost in thought for a few seconds.

"Two years..." - He repeated. "And you're really going to let me go?"

"Yes." - Namjoon answered decisively. In fact, he was hoping that this case would help to keep him in business for a long time. Namjoon watched Jungkook carefully, waiting for a reaction. He collected his thoughts and continued quietly without looking up.

"I appreciate your trust, Namjoon. And I'm very grateful that you see the potential in me. But I'm not looking for any big changes or a special place in the clan. I just want to be a performer. I don't want anything more than that." - Jungkook says. Namjoon raised his eyebrows a little, feeling that Jungkook wasn't quite expressing everything he really wanted to say. But Jungkook continued regardless. "So I agree to monitor the uranium supply process, but you must also keep your word. Two years and I am no longer your subordinate." - Jungkook added with some determination in his voice.

Namjoon nods his head, smiling. Time will tell where all of you will be in two years, and he really hoped it would be the pinnacle of success.

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[dock57]

[I remember when we got some dialogue for this scene on Patreon. Before the episode finally aired, you only got snips of this scene. However, even with what little you got- it was a pretty close call to say that Queen Tyneen was talking about Shrike.

I think about this scene a lot. I mention in a post some time ago how Beebs is treated with more respect than Shrike is. It seems like that anyone who knows Shrike, treats him as a loser. Even though Tyneen is trashing on Shrike, you can tell that she also finds Beebs to be better than him. That Beebs should be finding others of similar level or respect than keeping Shrike along.

Its implied here by Tyneen that Shrike is seen as a mistake- but also just a good no individual. Like Tyneen is smiling here, having some positivity that Shrike is gone. As if Beebs is better off without him. That with Shrike gone, not only would Beebs' issues be resolved, but everyone else as well. Shrike seems to be a common target to get rid of- mostly due to being 'unless' or a obstacle to others.

It is hard to tell exactly how Beebs does feel about Shrike. We have yet to really get an explanation of how the two met. There has so far been no reference if Beebs ever worked for LAW before- I think if he did, Ricket would know him too- but Ricket is new to Beebs as well, as he doesn't even know his name- referring him to "Beard." Its interesting though, you can see how Beebs actually seems to be- frighten by that idea? I'm not the best at describing, but his expression tells me the idea of cutting off Shrike like that might hurt him as well. Beebs seems to even be disappointed when saying that Shrike is off doing his own thing.

Then you have Tyneen going off- like how could anyone stand keeping Shrike around? Why would anyone want to? It makes me wonder if Tyneen knew Shrike from the past as well- was she also a former LAW member who used to work along Shrike? It feels like its implied here that Tyneen once worked with Shrike as well and knows that he can be quite. a Nuisance.

This does make me curious- and I hope we get to some back story for this- how Tyneen and Ricket do know Shrike. Were they on a team together? I mean how bad was Shrike that Tyneen finds Ricket to better to keep around? As we also know she calls him a loser on the way out too. I know that Shrike wearing the Red Suit is a giving that he was a LAW enforcer, but, this also implies that Tyneen knew Shrike when he was in action with LAW.

Not going to lie, that line hurt me too. Shrike is seen to be so pathetic to others like Tyneen to call him a Leech who is surviving off of Beebs. Though, I can also see why she said that too as so far, without Beebs, Shrike wouldn't really be alive... Beebs have so far pulled Shrike through a lot of their contracts and ordeals they have face. I think about Us & Them. If Beebs was not there, really none of them, especially Shrike, would have not made it...

Of course we do not really have anything on Tyneen and her past. So when she mentions this, I wonder... probably a out of pocket theory, is it possibly that she was a Enforcer Commander before becoming a pirate? As in a commander of her own squad and Shrike and Beebs was originally a part of it? So she got first hand experience of what Shrike was like? Maybe she cut him off in the past?

Oh but this line got to me back in the previews. I actually was afraid at the end of this episode that Beebs was going to cut off Shrike, but there has to be a good reason why Beebs likes him. Probably one of my few fan moments of "You better NOT" and was afraid that was going to happen- or

its still to come... I will not be looking forward to that.

Anyway, this one hurt me. Like I said before, Tyneen sees Shrike to be unless, a nothing, a waste of space, and she's trying to convince Beebs to see him the same way and get rid of him. Tyneen sees Beebs to be better than Shrike, and its interesting, because in the same episode we do watch as Shrike does praise Beebs and Shrike compares himself to be the mess, not Beebs. Though, Shrike was drunk as well but, I think he was being genuine. Its so interesting to me how different the two are treated. To his own Kind, Beebs is seen lesser but seems to be more respected by other species, while Shrike? No matter where he is or was, no one seems to respect him. I think about this scene a lot.

I think about Shrike. I just wonder what he has gone through? I wonder what he has done for others to not change their opinion on him? What he has done to be look so down upon? I wonder if Tyneen has made Beebs changed his mind on Shrike, or considers ditching him too?

I think sometimes I see a bit of myself in Shrike. I understand that feeling. Living like no one wants you or feeling like nothing. You're just a mess up, trying to correct your ways or make it better, but in the end, you mess it up even more. You just want to feel like a space in this world, and maybe just want one person to make you feel like you are needed in this world too.

[cantfightmoonlight]

"I was more referring to how she takes pleasure in gossip. But, she certainly stole the show, didn't she?" The corner of her lips tilted up into a soft and amused smile at the thought. "Fair enough," was all she said in regards to Todd though, in her own personal opinion, she felt that Rohan and Todd both had a tendency to carry a grudge. Not that she couldn't relate. She just would have acted differently if she had been in shoes is all.

"You want to be frank? Let's be frank. Aaliyah did make decisions in my absence and I take responsibility for ever single one, whether I would have done the same or not, just as I take responsibility for how I voted in that room. But, there is a difference between taking responsibility for my own choices and letting it pass, which as I've pointed out to you over and over again at this point, I didn't let the decision to ban you simply pass. As much as you'd like to believe I did, that decision would have still been in affect if it wasn't for me. You considered joining the pack with Jonah. Do you honestly believe you would have been able to if I hadn't pushed to have the ban re-evaluated?" She asked with a curve of her brow, only to let out a scoff as he continued on. "Listen here, Rohan Persaud-Rivas, you can stand there and resent me for the way I voted all you'd like, but don't you dare belittle what happens behind that room. A solitary advisor? The entire Council voted for you to be banned before I agreed. I was out number. Your fate was already decided, declaring war between species had already been threatened and I have no jurisdiction in that room over any witch. So, as I told you before and I'll say it again- while I am sorry I hurt you, I am not sorry for choosing not to pick a fight with the Supreme and put a target on the clan's back for a fate I knew I wouldn't be able to change in that instant regardless. I decided to find another way. I managed to have your fate overturned and prevented a potential target on the clan's back. And I'd do it again as much as that might not be what you want to hear."

"I'm not excusing myself. I'm simply pointing out that, when I step into the Council Room, I am no different than anyone else there. I'm not a Mayor in that room. I am the Clan Leader and, as I've already said, I continue to lead, because I gave this town and the Clan my word and if didn't, the people I care about would be worse of. When my turn as Mayor is up though, I hope you all are happy when Damien Blake or JC or who ever else decides to take on this thankless job in my stead."

"Yes. I made a choice, but so did you. You broke the accords. You put us all in the position to have to decide your fate and I made a decision you didn't like. Me questioning whether or not I can trust you has nothing to do with you having been or being upset about the choice I made and everything to do with how you chose to ignore me and avoid me rather than having the balls to have a god damn conversation about it. If you had done something that pissed me off, I would have come and talked to you, immediately, because I care about you and you're important to me. I would have wanted to hear your side. So, yes. I don't know if I can trust you, because the second I did something you didn't like, you cut all contact. If you were or are mad about my stance on the matter now, I understand. But, you didn't give me a chance to explain. You didn't even tell me that you were upset until months later. So, how do I know that it won't happen again? How do I know that you won't start avoiding me out of the blue and leave me to have to wonder if I did something to offend you or if I'm being paranoid and you're simply busy?"

"I nearly died, Rohan, and I'm tired. I don't have the energy to try to decipher anyone's feelings nor do I expect anyone to decipher mine. So, I'm telling you how I feel which is that I don't know if I should trust you. Not that I don't trust you. But, that I feel like I might regret it down the line, if I continue to. You think my feelings are ridiculous? Fine. So be it. But, it's how I feel. Either we can talk through it and go on being friends or we can call it here. But, I'm not getting in your car if you chose the latter. It's really that simple."

"Well, Dilan has other ways of getting her point across. Someone getting shoved off a stage is about as Christmas-y in Lunar Cove as snow or gingerbread," Rohan replied with a soft sigh. He shook his head back and forth. "I know he didn't possess me on-purpose, but...his behavior while doing so was less than becoming. Besides, he's tied very strongly to one of the worst nights of my life. Again, not his fault, but it's best we don't try to co-mingle. It's not a one-sided sentiment either, for what it's worth. I understand he's very frustrated that he gets injured when I do." Rohan gave a weak shrug. "I wish him well. I just don't think we need to hang."

Rohan raised an eyebrow. "I mean...yeah? Nico didn't agree with JC's decision. And sure, I'll give you that him leaving put JC in the position to make one. That happened. But I'll also be frank, Meena. Would you have stood behind whatever hypothetical decision Aaliyah may have made in your absence? It would be understandable. United front. But if Aaliyah had voted to ban me, would you have let it pass?" He shook his head. "I also don't begrudge Nico for prioritizing Jasmine. I would prioritize Jonah. But, like...look, if a solitary advisor is enough to make a ripple through the policy of every faction of the town, then I don't know what to say about that."

Rohan knit his brow. "You're the mayor. You're the leader of the vampires. You have your say. Excuse yourself it that's what you want to do. And if you don't want to be either of those things anymore, then stop being them. In any case, Poppy and I aren't friends anymore. So, believe me, no one got a pass. You know what? Maybe Ben did, but he's practically my in-law. And we didn't really know each other at the time."

A hand came up to rub at his temple, but actual irritation now crept into Rohan's voice. "No. No. We're not doing that. You don't get to 'look what you made me do' me. You made a choice, Meena. You can't trust me? Why? Because I was upset by something you did to me? That's ridiculous. Completely. So you know what? Why don't we just call it here in that case? I'm sorry. I can't...like, be half-friends, aware you don't trust me. I just don't think it's going to work. For both our sakes. I'll still give you the ride if you want it, but that's probably not a good idea, is it?"

[bambisnc]

          . . swimming through the cherry sky

° ˖ ➴ “forget whatever you think you knew. vampires exist.”

### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ suggestive? + 1.3k // unedited + roommate trope + blood drinking ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ vamki enthusiasts hi + alt vrs hidden somewhere in txt + [m.list]

you've had your suspicions for a while now. the irregular, conspicuous late nights. the stains that eerily resemble dried blood and something else you can’t quite name but feel in your bones. an instinct that something was odd.

but bless your heart, you just can't bring yourself to actually accuse your roommate, nishimura riki, of anything.

besides, what would you have even said, anyway? 

"hey, roommate! what a wonderful day it is today, huh? the weather sure is … happening! by the way, if i may ask, is there any chance that you might be a bloodthirsty, monstrous creature? just curious haha!"

yeah. that wouldn't work. obviously.

not that you had the ability to even stay in the same room as him long enough to put together a few coherent words. but merely the air around him was enough to have shivers running down your spine. and yet, the worst part of it all? 

he’s never actually tried anything to cause harm to you. never once warranted your fears. which only makes you feel like you’re losing your damn mind.

so you do the only thing you can do. watch from a distance; observe. bide your time and keep trying to piece things together while ensuring to stay as far away as you possibly can. which, considering you live together, is pretty much next to impossible.

and then, after months of feeling like the tension would just about eat you alive, something finally happens. 

it had been a relatively slow day. your roommate had kept to himself as usual, doing nothing out of the ordinary. nothing you could consider hard proof, that is. 

having decided on an early night for yourself, you were in bed, adorned with comfortable night clothes. that was when you’d heard it. 

a dull thump! 

followed up, as if on cue, by a low, guttural groan. the pain in the raspy noise was clear enough to make your stomach twist. against your better judgement, curse you for being soft-hearted, you leave the comfort the safety of your room and towards the adjacent hallway. the door in front of you was slightly ajar, ink like shadows spilling out.

and then you see him.

hunched over, collapsed by the edge of his bed, barely able to hold himself up. riki looks too pale – ashen, almost, like all the warmth has been drained from his body. his breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps. he looks like he’s seconds from death’s door.

your entrance wasn’t as quiet as you’d meant for it to be however. he lifts his head, with a considerable amount of exertion, letting his gaze – dark, unreadable – meet yours. when he speaks, it’s hushed. completely unlike the usual confident drawl he uses otherwise. 

“it’s dangerous for you to be in here when i’m like this.”

“what-” you swallow down all the questions bubbling inside your throat. “... are you okay?..”

sure, this was probably the only opportunity you’d have with him this vulnerable but, you can’t bring yourself to take advantage of his weakened state. you venture a little closer to him, to properly be able to appraise his condition, despite your entire being begging you not to.

barely being able to hear his answer, you lean closer still to be able to pick up on the yet again hesitant, reluctant mumble, “i … haven’t fed in a while.”

your heart goes cold. you can all but feel the blood rushing into your ears as you struggle to process what riki just said. obviously, he doesn’t mean that in the literal sense. right?

but before you can even reach a conclusion, decide whether or not to let your flight instinct take control and rush out of here, call someone, anyone for help — with a fluid motion, you find your positions completely switched.

your back meets the hard edge of the bed with a jolt. he kneels in front of you now, towering. his frame eclipses yours, one arm braced on the bed, the other steadying himself on the floor. you can tell he isn’t even putting much effort, but he’s able to cage you in without even trying. no longer can you delude yourself into thinking you have any semblance of control over the situation. 

there’s no mistaking it. not with that look in his eyes, the pupils fast dilating – were they always tinged that slight shade of … red? there can be no more excuses, no more pretending that you’re just being paranoid. because this … 

… this is real.

“this isn’t happening. it can’t be.” you whisper, as if saying it out loud will manifest it into existence. as if it’ll wake you up from whatever bad fever dream this is.

he looks almost amused, for a second. lips twitching as if he finds your denial to be funny. 

and then he’s leaning in closer, closer until … something sharp grazes against your delicate neck. your breath hitches sharply at the sensation. 

“forget whatever you think you knew.” his voice is steadier than it was earlier. more certain, more sure of itself. “vampires exist.” ...

where riki’s lips ghost over your neck, his touch is featherlight but somehow still constricting. he tilts your head slightly, movements agonizingly slow exposing it even more to himself.

“can i?..” his voice is strained, as he grits out the words but you appreciate the warning. 

even if it might not be of any actual meaning, “do i have a choice?”

“not really, no. i’m sorry.” 

and then, a sharp, electric sting as his fangs pierce your skin.

the pain flashes for only a moment, though, before a haze-like dizziness takes its place. sinking into your bones, making your limbs go weaker than they felt before.

his free hand shifts from the floor – after he gains some semblance of his former strength, you assume – and he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the living world. it’s a strange sensation, to say the least. the action is rhythmic, if nothing else. 

only when a soft, barely audible gasp escapes you does he pull away, fangs retracting. 

his tongue licks against the open wound in what you would only later discover was supposed to be a means to soothe. before you even realize it, you’re reaching for him, clutching onto his shirt, albeit rather weakly in some sort of attempt of grounding yourself.

you don’t know what to say about it. you don’t even know how to feel.

but what you do know is that he’s still looking at you. eyes dark, lips stained red with your blood, chest rising and falling like he’s just barely holding himself together. 

looking at him like this, it’s clear as day that he needs more. the struggle, the desperation, the way he seems to be at war with himself. 

so you do what any good roommate would do, the words leaving you before you can second guess your decision. you offer yourself to him. 

“take what you need.”

his expression flickers. hesitation, shock, relief, aching. “you don’t have to—” he sounds like he wants to refuse, like he knows he should refuse. 

but when you tilt your head back slightly, just enough for the previous mark to be visible, you practically hear his resolve crack.

riki presses in close again, with more an ease this time and as the alien sensation you’re growing more and more familiar to takes over, you exhale a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“you.. fuck.” his voice is muffled between slow, languid sucks – unhurried, this time. more deliberate. “you’re a terrible roommate.” 

you huff out as best as you can, in your (slightly lightheaded) condition “hah... why is that?”  a pause. his thumb swipes over the place his lips had been seconds earlier, as if reassuring himself of your pulse. “because this means i owe you.”

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[veryextraincorrectfegbaquotes]

Sad Shanna Lore won the poll so now I present to you the text that explains that one thing age said while beating Ain with a chair!

To say it all changed when he died would be inaccurate. Him dying had just further entrenched things. Shanna had already been feeling minimised, underestimated and babied. She was naturally meek, shy and soft-spoken, and on top of all that she was the youngest of four sisters. The only way to avoid being babied would be to run away, and Shanna would never have the guts to do that. Well, she'd have the guts, but not the lack of sense to try to strike out on her own in a small town. Could she get set up? Sure, there'd be folk nice enough to give her a place. Could she avoid her family? No way in hell.

What sealed her away as shouting on the inside only was when her father died. He'd been a poor father, to say the least, but being handed a divorce made him realise what he'd been taking for granted, and made him desperate to reconnect with his family. But Fiora, Farina and Tate had all chosen their stance, and it was that they wanted nothing more to do with him. But Shanna was too young and too kind to a fault to genuinely hate him. So he brought everything he had to reconnecting with her. Days out, short trips, everything he could manage. It was the happiest she'd been in ages, since he kept bringing her to new places where she could try her hand at things. Winning at carnival games, going on the biggest roller-coasters, sitting in the splash zone. They were her efforts, her choices, hers.

Then he died. It was a mundane thing, slipped at home, hit his head on the edge of a counter, nobody there to call for help, closed his eyes and never opened them again. For everyone in Shanna's family except her, it was a morbid convenience. A drawn out divorce involving a man they wanted nothing to do with was suddenly tidied up. They could wash his hands of him, and so they did. They assumed Shanna felt the same. Assumed she'd just been humouring him, meek little Shanna too shy to tell him no. They didn't go to his funeral. So no-one could take Shanna. They never even imagined she might want to go. Too sad an affair for someone as emotional as her, they reasoned.

Who could she talk to about this? Tell her family that the man they could never love again she'd learned to love? Not forgive, but still see value in? Someone to cry over in private? Someone all the photos of had been thrown out, except the few she had snagged and hidden? They hated him. She couldn't say they were wrong to hate him, he'd earned it. But she didn't hate him. She didn't hate anyone. She hated conflict. So she withdrew yet further, spending her time alone. Her dear sisters would only see her as their baby sister. Her mother would only see her as her baby girl. Did anybody see Her? Was it only when she looked in the mirror? Was it ever?

With no-one to talk to, nobody she felt she could be genuine with, and no desire to cause trouble, Shanna could do nothing. She could sit in her room, look at secret photos and write in secret diaries, while away hours reading scary stories and watching scary videos to remind her she was alive. Was she depressed? How could she tell? If she was, what would it matter? Who would she tell, what would she do. Stay quiet, stay out of the way, say Hi with a smile, do your chores and a bit extra to show you care, stay in your room so you don't spend more time than you have to feeling like your family is condescending you. One day into the next into the next, look out the window at night and wonder if anyone else feels like this, put your hand against the glass, hoping a bit of your warmth can reach them if they're out there, get a bit scared from staring out into the darkness. Night into day, day into night, what day is it? Doesn't matter. Nothing can keep earnest little Shanna down, she's anxious and scared but does her best! It's not wrong, but it's not everything.

Go on forums and never say anything. Go in chatrooms and don't type. It doesn't feel real, but what does? Day in, day out. Have I seen this video before? Are they all blending together? No matter, watch it again, it's not real anyway. Say Hi with a smile, do your chores and a bit extra to show you care, go to the town wall just to look out at the forest, imagine going there at night, it'd be so scary but so alive. Does the tree falling alone in the forest at least own the thud it makes? Ride your pegasus, imagine just flying in a direction and not stopping until you hit the ground. Where would you end up? Would the sky look different, there? Is emptiness less lonely than feeling like nobody sees you? Does any of it matter out there, with nobody else in sight or sound? Day in, day out.

Get dragged out of your room, told to make a friend. Push back, you're tired of always acquiescing, emptiness is comfortable now. Meet someone, she's different from you, but also seem to want to get away from everyone in the world for a while. You feel like there would be comfortable, but still not yours. She feels like she'd belong there, like a proud stone pillar, like Stonehenge. Maybe you could learn from her? Is this being friends? Being with her makes you happier, it'd been a while. She's protective, but not to a degree that makes you want to go somewhere else. She doesn't bar you from things, if you say you want to try she hangs back as you try. She's harsh, not as harsh as she is to others but still enough to make it feel like she knows you can handle it. Her name is Clarine. She's your best friend.

Day in, day out. Go spend the day with her, both of you want nothing else. Go out walking, go have picnics, go to her place that's small but being so close to her makes your heart flutter. Smile brightly, hurry through your chores but still doing a bit extra to show you care, almost skip out the door to see your friend, tell her stories about the things you do without her, she listens and questions, doesn't just pat your head and call you cute. Day in, day out, always something to look forward to. Look at the photos, wonder what it would've been like if they'd met. Only look at them though, not staring. Don't stay up late, lots to do tomorrow. Go on an adventure, do things that matter that only you are trusted to do. Everything has changed and it's all getting better. Still not time to tell her about the past, but it's not as important anymore.

[loveanddeepsecrets]

They say three’s a crowd…

Synopsis- How Zayne and Caleb would one up each other when all three of you reconnect

tags: headcanon, jealousy; angst, no comfort :’( mostly gn, but some hcs imply an afab+ fem! reader

I don’t know if the LI’s will ever officially interact with each other in-game, but if they did, this is how I’d imagine Caleb and Zayne’s relationship dynamic

I’d imagine they’d make jabs at each other based on time spent vs time lost and sometimes using their own expertise as leverage. They’re both quite decorated in carriers especially being so young. Both try very hard to keep things amicable. They’re alike in many ways, and the feeling of responsibility to care for you is no exception…

- When you’re sad, Zayne would try lending a listening ear but before he can respond, Caleb chimes in with just the right words and inside jokes to make you smile again.

- When you’re getting ready for dinner, Caleb would be in the kitchen preparing your old favourites, then Zayne hovers over advising the best food substitutes as he reminds Caleb of your heart condition.

- When you’re suddenly feeling under the weather, Zayne would have you lay down and go to fetch a blanket, but Caleb steps, pillows and a blanket in hand explaining that you always need 3 pillows and a fuzzy blanket to help you fall asleep on sick days. He follows up with turning on the TV and choosing your two’s favourite comfort movie.

- On an afternoon stroll in the park, you’d stop and admire the blue hydrangeas, leading you and Caleb to reminisce about the many summers spent together. Zayne would then passively recall that one summer day all three of you spent at the florist shop and mentions the bushes he has of the same blue hydrangeas in his backyard (did anyone else clock that?!) and invites you to pick your own bouquet on your way back.

- At the start of your picnic, you pull out an apple and excitedly ask Zayne to show you how he peels it in one go. While he does this, Caleb examines the species of apple and goes on about how sweet and thoughtful you were to bring his favourite. He then remembers the exact orchard your class field trip went to when he first tried that specific Asiatic apple, and says he’ll take you there to go apple picking come autumn.

- On snow days, you’d sometimes visit the ski lodge. Caleb being a natural athlete, picks up on it pretty quickly. He hates to see you struggle, so he has the both of you back onto the small slopes. Zayne later passes by holding his and your snowboard, saying something along the lines of “That should be enough training for today. We did come here to have fun, and it would be hard to do that if you’re already sore from just one activity.” He’d then invite you to ride the ski lift to test if you still remember everything “Coach Zayne” taught you.

- During your cycle, Zayne would recommend and demonstrate the best stretches and positions to alleviate cramps, only for Caleb to walk in and insist the stretches he learned were the better alternative. Further explaining that he learned them from his fem colleagues during training for the Farspace Fleet.

- On one night with a vivid sky illuminated by the full moon and bright stars, the three of you lay on the grass searching for constellations. Caleb would share memories of the first time you two saw Orion’s Belt under the glass ceiling in grandma’s attic. Zayne stretches his arm out to you and suddenly feels the cool jade pendant he carved and begins to recall how beautiful the moon was the night he gave it to you. He then says a full moon is another one of the many things that remind him of you.

A/N: I often thought abt Zayne while completing Caleb’s story. I wondered if Caleb felt jealous at all when Zayne and MC reunited, and it led me to think about how all three of their relationships might have changed now that they’re adults. It actually hurt writing this bc they both deserve the kind of love they have with MC :(

***If anyone who actually writes, decides to make a real fic from this pls tag me so I can read it! I’m not a writer, so I’m limited to little blurbs like these

Dividers

Artwork

[vampzity]

all eyes on her | H.JS

★ DAY TWO: VOYEURISM WITH HAN ★

pairing: roommate! han jisung x f! reader

han has been your roommate for a year now, and you’re both been very good about each others privacy. but he’d never thought he’d catch you in such a vulnerable state.. or get off to it himself.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, voyuerism, masturbation (fingering & jacking off), breast fondling, use of toys (a dildo), slight cursing? creampie mentioned, han’s a bit of a perv & sub, face riding, any other warnings i missed.

word count: 2.1k

Han walked into the apartment, knocking off his shoes tiredly. He had a long day of lectures and stupid meetings on campus and just wanted to lay in bed for the rest of the day.

It was quiet in the home, an odd feeling when it was of course a shared space between you and him. He placed his bag on the couch, being as quiet as he could assuming that you might’ve had the same thought he did and took a nap.

Han walked into the hallway, stopping by your door. A black laced pair of bra and panties hung against the door knob. His face burned red, knowing that this wasn’t something you normally did especially with a guy in the shared space. He hesitated for a moment, looking around to see if you were playing a cruel prank on him. But to his surprise, it seemed like a harmless mistake.

His hand reached out for the lingerie before his mind could even think of what to do. The lace danced on his fingers, making his cock twitch at the thought of you in them. The way your breast would perk up in them and the way your pussy would sit just right in them.

Just right ontop of him.

He brought the lingerie to his nose, taking a long breath. Your sweet vanilla perfume trailed on the fabrics, your cunt just dying to be tasted. Han was always a respectful roommate, and you two were good friends but unbeknownst to you, he had the hugest crush on you. To anyone else, it might’ve been obvious but you were a bit oblivious, assuming that he was just overly kind toward you.

Han scratched his head, placing your lingerie back on the door knob. He began to walk off, stopping as odd sounds filled his ears. He leaned against your door, hearing small whimpers and moans coming from what he assumed was you. Your voice was sweet and sultry, making him feel as if you were the pied piper and he was the snake.

His dick twitched underneath his sweatpants, practically throbbing at hearing you. He wondered what you were doing, how you were doing such a thing to yourself and why you were doing it alone. He could help you, in fact, Han would be more than grateful to help you let out your sexual frustrations.

He picked up the lingerie once again, holding it tightly in his hands as he opened your door just a bit, feeling relief as your moans drowned out the sound of the twisting and turning. He peeked into the dimly lit room, catching you sprawled on your bed. Lucky for him, the door was in the corner of your room while your headboard was against the same wall, leaving him with a perfect view of you without getting caught.

You were in your bathrobe— of course it was wide open, and you laid in it. Your whimpers were louder now that the door was open, making the boner in Han’s pants strengthen. He watched as you squeezed your breasts, your other hand moving at a quick pace against your cunt. The noises were like music to his ears, the sound of your slick enough to make him go crazy. You were so stuck in your own world, you could barely hear anything else around you.

At least that’s what he thought.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to spy on lady?”

Han froze, his eyes meeting yours as you wrapped your robe around your body. His face was now a deep red, watching as you made your way toward him with a tightly fitted robe now on you completely. You looked down at the lingerie in his hand, giggling as you grabbed onto his hand.

“Oh look, you found it!” You took the lingerie from him, giving him a sly look. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere, thank you Hannie.”

He nodded, a look of confusion painted across his face. You walked back to your bed, placing it on the end as you sat down. Han stood there in disbelief, unsure of what to do or even say. You weren’t mad? It didn’t seem like it, in fact you seemed unusually nonchalant about it.

Wouldn’t a girl be offended or feel uncomfortable that a man— let alone their roommate was watching them?

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— well I guess it seems that way? I was just, I was walking by and I saw, no I heard— ugh.” He ran his fingers through his hair, avoiding any eye contact with you. “I’ll just leave you alone, I swear this won’t happen again— well, I know it should’ve never happened in the first place,”

“Han.”

He met your eyes, a reassuring smile on your face as you motioned him to you. He closed the door, walking to you and standing in front of your bed. You grabbed his hand, undoing your robe and placing his hand on your now exposed breast. Han felt his cheeks and ears glisten red as the warmth of your body met his own, the soft feeling of your skin in his hand.

“Well don’t be shy now, touch me.”

He looked up at you, eyes widening at your statement. You repositioned yourself, now sitting on your knees with your legs open just slightly. You slipped your hand between your thighs, being met with the warmth and wetness between your folds. You moved your hands over your clit, moaning softly as your cunt ached to be touched. Han watched as your head fell back, the sounds now louder than before as you were right in front of him.

His cock twitched beneath his sweatpants, still in shock at what was unfolding in front of him. He squeezed your breast softly, his other hand coming up to cup the other. You whimpered as his thumb toyed with your nipple, the pace becoming quicker against your sensitive bud.

Han was hard, so fucking hard. He couldn’t control it— who would when you were practically drowning in lust right in front of him.

“Hannie.”

You looked up at him, a soft doe look in your eyes that could’ve made him fall to his knees at whatever you asked. You continued to toy with your clit, your whimpers growing while his hands fondled at your chest.

“Gonna cum,” You fingered yourself softly, your other hand rubbing your bud in circles as you felt your high approaching. Han watched you in all your glory, his hands holding your tits softly. He watched your pace fasten, your chest rise and fall quickly as it all rushed over you. He didn’t know what to think; he never thought he’d be watching you in such a vulnerable state like this.

You let out a deep moan, your voice feeling like candy to his ears as the whimpers slowly trailed afterwards. You pulled your fingers from between your legs, your other hand holding his chin.

“Wanna taste, Hannie?” His eyes lit up like a dog seeing a bone, nodding his head as you smiled. You knew Han was soft-hearted, but sexually? It came as a small shock to you seeing how he practically worshipped you without any romantic title.

“Needy, huh? Open.”

Han followed without hesitation, opening his mouth slightly as you brought your fingers to his tongue. He sucked on your fingers softly, your juices coating his tongue. It was sweet, he’s dreamt of the day he could taste you, even feel you on the tip of his tongue. This was as close as he could get to you and he was perfectly fine with that. He would do anything you wanted, anything you asked for if it meant that you’d let him have a taste at you.

“Mm, wanna watch some more, Hannie?”

He quickly nodded, watching as you brought over your desk chair for him to sit at. You pulled your robe off while he sat down, letting it drop to the floor as you crawled back into your bed. Han’s face was basically a tomato at this point, seeming as if there was actual steam coming out of his ears from how heated he got.

You pulled out something from your drawer, giving Han a quick glance before showing it to him. It was a toy, a dildo at that. It wasn’t too big or small, but just the right size for you. You positioned it under you, sitting ontop as small moans escaped you.

His mind raced with the thoughts of him stuffing you full with his cock. How it would feel to have you clenching around him as you struggled to take in his length. Han was practically leaking at this point, desperate to get off as he watched you and within seconds, his sweatpants met the ground. He held his member in his hand, the aching making him throw his head back as he stroked it softly.

Your hands squeezed the comforter as you rode the toy, pants leaving your body as it pressed against your sweet spot. Han stroke himself to your rhythm, imagining it was you ontop of him.

“So good.” you mumbled.

Han met your gaze, watching as your tits jumped when you fastened your pace. It was such a beautiful sight to him; one he could’ve only thought of in his dreams. You leaned back a bit, your hands keeping you still behind you. Spreading your legs a bit more, his mouth nearly dropped. There it was in all its glory and it was so pretty to him. He had a front row seat, watching as the toy slipped in and out of your soaking core. It was a creamy sound, small drops leaking out of you.

“Hannie,” you moaned softly, groping your tits harshly as you continued to ride.

His small whimpers filled your ears, his eyes fixated on you as he stroked himself quickly. He was aching, begging, desperately trying to hold himself back from falling apart right there in front of you and it only made you weak. You brought your hand to your folds, running it over your clit.

“Hannie, gonna cum.”

Your movements got faster with every hit against your sweet spot. You felt a small tingle at your core, the moans escaping you only growing louder.

“Please watch me cum, Hannie.” You met his reddened face, obediently nodding his head.

“Am I pretty like this, Hannie? Tell me I’m pretty.”

His thumb rubbed the tip of his cock, watching you throw tour head back in pleasure as you bounced happily against the toy.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty baby.”

His strokes fastened again to your pace, watching as you creamed all over the toy. You began to whimper his name— once, twice, a third time, over and over. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you felt so hot with Han watching your every move. You pulled the dildo out of you, legs shaking as you continued to abuse your clit.

“Taste me, Hannie.”

Without any hesitation, Han quickly pulled up his pants and climbed under your hovering body, letting you sit against his face. You rubbed your clit against his nose, his tongue lapping at your juices. You moaned out his name, hands tugging at his hair. His nose brushed against you, harder, faster as you felt your high coming and this time you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Cum— fuck, Hannie, I’m… oh my god.” With a final thrust you came undone a top of him. Han held your thighs down with his arms, tonguing your core softly.

You met eye contact with him, whimpers escaping you as you realized he wasn’t done with you. This was a moment he’s waited— no, dreamt of. To feel your body, to taste your soft skin. It wasn’t something he was willing to give up so easily and you knew that. He grabbed your hips, moving them against his face as his lips wrapped around your swollen bud.

“Hannie, please.. fuck.”

Your sweet moans were all he wanted. He just wanted to make you feel good, give you something that you simply couldn’t fufill on your own. He sucked on your pussy, your sweet juices filling his mouth as your hands raked through his hair.

“You’re so good to me Hannie. Don’t stop..”

You moved your hips with the rhythm of his tongue, panting like a dog as he abused you. You were practically suffocating him at this point, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to make you happy, give you what you deserved. He adored you, and he was willing to do anything it took to prove it to you.

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: this is definitely one of my favs from the event that i’ve written hehe

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill out the form here!

[junkomc]

COD Omegaverse (male reader) Chapter 6 is now available. NSFW!18+

The sixth chapter is mainly about a foursome with Alex, Woods, and Adler. (I wonder if anyone will read it...?)　Everyone will pamper you.♡

Hudson also appears (foreshadowing...).

At the beginning, Hudson explains about male omegas, but if you think this isn't the omegaverse, then this is my own omegaverse, so if you can't accept it, goodbye...

Sorry for my crappy English, as always I've had to rely on a translation tool!!

Please see the full story on AO3.

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

↓Preview

-Jason, Russell, Alex, Frank, Omega-

A few years ago, Packhouse

"I didn't know the CIA had introduced this program either."

Russell said disdainfully.

"Russell, Are you against the omega breeding system? What about the other two?"

Jason looked back and forth between Alex and Frank, who were sitting in front of him.

"I don't think there's a problem if the omega volunteers of their own volition, and I respect their wishes. Of course we welcome omegas."

Russell was surprised at Alex's boldness in saying that, and Frank raised one eyebrow and looked at him in disbelief, and said,

"Alex...I know it's easy to say...but the one who gets added to the pack is a male omega, right? I've never seen a male omega before..."

"That's why he was sent to this pack. I'm going to give you a lecture on male omegas. Russell, Frank, I'm sorry, but we don't care what you think. This is decided. Accept it, be honored. ... I envy you guys, if I could, I'd like to have a taste of it at least once..."

The three of them looked at Jason, who was vague in his words, suspiciously.

"Anyway, I'll explain a few things about him. Omegas are valuable, but male omegas are even more valuable. They are lent to each other by allies who have implemented the Omega Program. This is the first time the CIA has tried this."

"Is there any reason to assign a male omega to a pack even if it means lending and borrowing them?"

Russell asked with a bored look on his face, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

"The first is their high reproductive ability. Their pregnancy rate during rutting is almost 100%. They also have the stamina to withstand the rutting period of male alphas. As for biting, once a female omega mates, she will only mate with that alpha, and will not rut or mate with other alphas, even if they are alphas of the same pack. But male omegas are different. Any number of alphas in the same pack can mark an omega. They can mate with any alpha in the pack. However, please note that you can only mark an omega after it has given birth. This is because if he and you don't get along well, the omega will have to be moved to another pack. In that case, another omega will come here."

"...I feel bad because it seems like they're being welcomed into the pack just for the purpose of breeding."

Frank glared at Jason with a bitter look on his face.

"This is an order from above. You can't refuse anyway. So why not just enjoy the situation? You can enjoy a precious male omega."

Russell gave Jason a critical look, but Jason didn't seem to mind at all. Instead, he sighed as if he couldn't understand why Russell was so negative about the system.

"That's right, Frank, it's a decision that Omega will come. I'm sure he'll have a hard time in his new environment. I'll feel sorry for him if we don't open up. Russell will also change his mind when he meets him”

Alex was more adapted to the situation than anyone else and rather willingly welcomed the male omega. He seemed excited to see what kind of passionate mating he would have with a strong male omega during the rutting season.

-Omega, Russell, Frank, Alex-

"So you two weren't happy about me coming at first?"

You asked, leaning back on the sofa and looking back and forth between Russell and Frank, who were sitting on either side of you.

"Yes, I'd like to show the old Russell and Frank what they're like now."

Alex said as he appeared from the kitchen, giggling and holding a mug of decaf coffee.

"Alex was the only one who was excited about me coming, right?"

You took the mug from Alex, smiled mischievously, and looked into Russell and Frank's faces again.

Russell lovingly stroked your now slightly more noticeable belly and said in a gentle voice, "That's not true, I've been wanting to meet you as well." Frank kissed your temple and whispered in your ear, "Me too."

You closed your eyes, entranced by the warmth and love you felt from both sides of you.

"I know, you've both been so good to me since the day we met..."

"That's right, both of you had hearts in your eyes the moment you met an omega."

Alex said mockingly, and the alphas on either side of you laughed and threw cushions at him.

Alex deftly caught them, held out his hands to you, and urged you to stand.

You set your mug on the table and walk over to Alex, placing your hand in his large, warm one.

“We’ve always been crazy about you. Look into my eyes and you can see hearts, right?”

Alex smiled, gazing at you with loving eyes.

You smiled back at Alex, and the alpha hugged his omega gently but firmly.

“You’re still as good at seducing omegas as ever.”

Before you knew it, Russell was right behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and saying, "That's how you always tempt our omegas."

And with that, Frank came right next to you and gently stroked your cheek with his bony alpha fingers.

You surrender yourself to the pheromones of your three beloved alphas,

You felt the presence of a puppy in his stomach and murmured dreamily, immersed in happiness.

"Hey, do you know? Alphas...I always have hearts in my eyes too."

As if to confirm your words, Alex grabbed your chin and made you look up, staring at you and saying, "Yeah, that's true," and kissed you. At the same time, Russell behind you gently bit the side of your scent gland, and Frank next to you pressed his nose behind your ear, enjoying the scent of your omega.

While kissing you, Alex began to unbutton your shirt, Russell slowly slid his hands inside your pants, and Frank whispered in your ear, "Let's go to bed."

"...Ah, Alex made me coffee, and..."

When you said this with an exaggerated, disappointed tone, Alex smiled and said,

"I'll make it again later."

"Ahh... Alpha..."

You lie on top of Alex, pressing your back against his chest as he lies on the bed, enduring the pressure of his penis thrusting into your hole.

Russell slowly leans over you and asks you worriedly, "Two at the same time? Are you sure? I don't want to push my omega and the puppy in my belly too hard."

"It's okay, Russell..."

You gently stroked Russell's cheek to reassure the alpha in front of you.

"I'll tell you if it hurts..."

Although you said that, the size of Alex inside you was already enough for you, so you were feeling a mixture of anticipation and anxiety about what would happen if Russell's thicker, longer thing entered you.

Frank immediately sensed your feelings and next to you, holding your hand and whispering,"Don't force yourself" before kissing your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. You liked the feeling of Frank's beard tickling the area around your mouth. You closed your eyes and surrendered to the comfort of Frank's soothing kiss, enjoying the feel of his beard on your fingertips.

At that moment, Alex bit into your neck through your collar from behind.

You were a little surprised by how hard he was about to rip the collar off, but Alex quickly removed his mouth and instead sucked tightly around the collar to leave a mark, groaning.

"...Omega, I want to mark you."

Alex had just come inside of you a while ago, but his penis was still inside of you, and although the knot had already come loose, it was still hard, and he would occasionally lightly poke you from behind and rub the remaining juices into you.

"I know... it'll be soon..." you said, rubbing your head against Alex behind you as you felt his penis assert itself inside you again.

"... We're all looking forward to officially welcoming you into the pack... I can't wait to meet the puppy..."

In front of you, Russell smiled and stroked your slightly swollen belly, then slowly slid his hand down, stroking the part where you and Alex are joined.

"... Are you sure?"Russell asked.

You nodded desperately, no longer feeling a shred of anxiety, wanting to get Russell inside you as soon as possible.

The tip of Russell's penis was already slick with pre-cum, and the entrance, slippery with your love juices and Alex's semen, accepted his thick stake without resistance.

"...Ah, oh...Omega...this is amazing..."

Russell let out a deep breath from the intense grip, but you forgot to even breathe, and with your eyes tightly closed, desperately enduring the pressure you were feeling for the first time.

"Omega, are you okay? Take a breath and relax..."

Frank whispered gently while holding your hand, and kissed your cheek.

Concentrating on Alex's sexy moans behind you and Russell's hot breath, your tension gradually eased, your hole gradually adjusted to the size of the two of them, and the sweet voice of the omega leaked out, overlapping with the alpha's voice.

"...Does it feel good, omega?"

Russell moved his face closer to you to make sure you weren't forcing yourself, and pressed his forehead against yours. This caused the insertion to deepen, and you moaned unconsciously, but you quickly nodded and looked into Russell's eyes. The alpha grinned, kissed you, and started to rock his hips back and forth.

"Mmmmm..."

With your lips still covered, he rocked you, and your breath was trapped in Russell's mouth.

The two hard, large penises wriggling inside you rubbed against your inner walls, competing with each other to inject a large amount of thick milk into you.

"You shouldn't put a knot in there..."

Frank warned Russell, who then glanced at Alex behind you.

Alex, sensing something, slowly pulled out of you and began caressing your breasts next to you.

After gently kneading your entire chest, he pinched and twisted your nipples, tugged and caressed them, as if enjoying the way they gradually became harder. All the while, Russell was making slow, shallow thrusts, teasing you just before your favorite spot, enjoying your reaction.

"...Oh, Alpha...more..."

"I know, I know, Omega."

Russell said this with a nasty smile.

You had been enduring the indescribable sweet torture with your eyes closed, but suddenly you were lightly slapped on the cheek and you slowly opened your eyes to find a fully erect, impressive penis with many veins wrapped around it.

It was Frank's. "Omega, please let me cum in your mouth..."

Frank gently caressed your chin, and as he guided you, you ran your tongue along Alpha's penis and slowly took the tip into your mouth.

“…Haa, Omega…”

A sigh escaped Frank's lips, and you wanted to hear more of his sexy voice, so you carefully caressed the alpha's penis with your tongue, moving it up and down as you sucked on it.

Russell's thrusts from below sent his penis unexpectedly deep into your mouth, pushing Frank to his limits.

Just as you tasted Frank in your mouth and heard the Alpha's heavy breathing reach its peak, Frank cum in your mouth.

"...!... Ah..."

Tasting the warm, copious amount of milk, you lovingly ran your tongue over the Alpha's swollen knot in your mouth.

Just as Frank was taking a breather, Alex muttered.

"...Frank, Russell... look."

Alex lightly pinched your nipples, and a thin, cloudy white liquid dribbled out.

"Really? You start producing milk after you give birth, right?"

Russell was amazed, transfixed by the way your milk ran down your skin.

You bent your neck to check your own chest to see what was going on.

"...The doctor said that there are a lot of exceptions for male omegas... this might be one of them..."

As you said this, Alex brought his face close to your breast, tracing the streaks of breast milk with his tongue, and when he reached your nipple he gently sucked on it.

"...Mmmm..."

Alex caressed you, stimulating your already sensitive spots once again, and you unconsciously squeezed Russell inside you.

"...Male omega milk. Alex already loves sucking on omega nipples... I'm sure this will make him even happier."

Please see the full story on AO3.

Tag List

@bunbunboysworld

[valentinsocorro]

"One thousand years could pass and I will never stop tormenting you," Valentin breathed before their kiss. He hummed into it contentedly, never tiring of the feel of their mouths slotted together. The hint of Magnai's spend still lingering on his tongue made it all the more heady, nearly enticing Valentin to spur him for more. Another time, he thought to himself as he gasped at the harsh bite to his lip. Blood welled up under Magnai's sharp teeth and Valentin moaned, unrestrained, at the taste. His blood, Magnai's come, their tongues moving together? Perfection. When it broke, Valentin shifted his hands to Magnai's chest. He curled his fingers into the muscled flesh of his pectorals, kneading with strength that might have hurt a normal man.

"You bring out a side of me that I do not show anyone else. This means very much to me as I have not felt it in so long," Valentin admitted, his accent getting thicker with his ever-burning desire for the hybrid against him. It was a wonder that he'd managed to go this long without saying something to him and he nearly mourned the lost time. But they were immortal and had nothing but time to have with one another now. "And it is freeing to do so. I will have you again and again, Magnai. And you will have this secret piece of me even when we seek temporary companionship with others. I hope you understand."

They had their differences in their opinions, strong differences. Valentin had turned a blind eye to worse than what Magnai thought and enacted and he would continue to do it for this. He felt alive, felt awake. Magnai was a lighthouse in the fog that Valentin constantly tried to navigate and though they would always argue on what was right and wrong, it did not stop his attraction. Even if the varcolac didn't feel the same way, Valentin would continue to do so until the day Magnai stopped humoring him. Even if this was just physical attraction, Valentin would take it.

Valentin's lingering touches were nearly enough to goad Magnai into going further, seeing how quickly he could rile the councilman up again until another round. He growled softly at the loss of the pressure of his hand, rocking into the curve of his ass one more time to pursue the warm, lingering pleasure until Valentin pulled away entirely. The disappointment was tempered by the elder's fingers slipping between his lips, Magnai's gaze fixed on the sight of Valentin's pink tongue stained white with the varcolac's seed. Valentin's expression seemed to invite something reckless, seductive and satisfied, and Magnai grabbed for him intently as the other's hands explored his skin, pulling Valentin close once more, face to face this time.

"I'll be done with you when you decide to stop tormenting me," He muttered, dipping his head to claim Valentin for one more selfish kiss, chasing the taste of Valentin's hunger. There was the trace of himself in the councilman's mouth and it invited a flare of possessiveness that was inappropriate but delicious to indulge. He imagined Valentin knelt in front of him properly for a vivid moment, Magnai's thumb hooked behind his bottom teeth to hold his mouth open for the wolf to paint his tongue properly, the same lust glowing in those amber eyes. His teeth dug into Valentin's lip at the thought, parting from him with another low rumble in his chest, wrestling down the fresh appetite that might've spurred him on for more if Magnai himself hadn't directed their restraint tonight. "When you decide. Not a second sooner." His hands went low, gathering up the ragged folds of his shirt. Little chance of wrestling the fabric into something manageable. Nothing Valentin hadn't encouraged.

[cupcake-bee-boy]

Does anyone else not like Joel having a car instead of a space object as his symbol? It just doesn't feel right to me. I really really like the planetary tradition and don't want it to break :(

[turtleblogatlast]

Thinking about the Don Suave scene and what it means in terms of LGBTQ+ representation because my brain does nothing if not torment me with random topics to ramble about on the regular.

Anyway, I just wanted to ramble about why I like the scene but to get it out of the way - the scene can very easily be interpreted in so many different ways, and all of them are valid. I personally see it as Leo having at least some attraction to a man. And the following is an explanation of my own interpretation and thoughts on it and what it means especially for Leo’s portrayal in the grand scheme of things.

Long-winded interpretation under the cut!

Now, to start with, it’s important to me that in the scene Leo looks at Don Suave in the very beginning and then for the entirety of the rest of the time the man is on screen, Leo’s eyes are closed. Yet, in the end, he is still visibly enamored with Don Suave, happily cuddling up to him as he’s being carried away.

You can very easily interpret this as Leo being spellbound and that’s honestly super valid and I believe he likely was at least somewhat in the beginning, but considering how fast he looked away and how he never looked again, I personally think it makes more sense to read it as Leo just finding the man attractive, at least somewhat. (For the record, I personally headcanon Rise Leo as bisexual with a heavy preference for men, but I want to be blunt when I say that any interpretation is valid. Literally any. Ace, pan, gay, bi, none of the above or a mixture of something new literally all of it is more than okay and fair. Hell you could even interpret this entire scene as more romantic attraction than physical and it would still work. Anything goes!! Don’t bother people, guys, really.)

The main reason I take this scene to be at the very least LGBTQ+ adjacent isn’t just because of how it’s portrayed, but because of who Leonardo is. Not in terms of Rise of the TMNT, but in terms of the entire Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles™️ franchise.

Leo’s a character who, while changing with each iteration, has still at his core been around for decades upon decades as “the blue one”. One fourth of the team. He’s the one most are going to look at as the Leader, and oftentimes he is the one closest to having the title of Main Character. Not to say the others aren’t just as important, but Leo’s presence in the A plots of basically all TMNT media is often something very main character-esque.

And that’s very, very important to note. Here we have a Main Character of a prolific and decades long-running franchise distributed by a children’s television network. You can play around with his and his brothers’ characters all you like, but there is always going to be challenges to dodge around, especially since this was still in 2018-2019.

For example, you can play around with their designs so long as they’re color coded turtles, but their sexualities? Now that’s tricky.

“But what about Hypno and Warren?” Not main characters and also they’re Rise originals. They have a lot more room to play around with than a character like Leo does. But even talking about main characters in the franchise, you could arguably have an easier time playing around with Donnie or Mikey’s sexualities than Leo or even Raph, as (unfortunately) the former two tend to get more B plots, so they’d likely have had a little more leeway (still not a lot though.)

So, where does this leave us?

It leaves us in a place where outright stating and/or showing undeniable proof of Leo’s attraction to men is very, very difficult. So, workarounds!

Workarounds like the entire Don Suave situation.

To be honest, as left up to interpretation and lowkey and deniable as it is, this whole scene means a lot to me because of who Leo is as a character. It’s just nice when we get so see even the bare bones of representation with characters that have been such a large part of pop culture for decades, y’know? Even if more would be so much nicer, this is better than I thought we’d ever get for these boys.

And, again, literally nothing I’ve said is the only way to interpret it, I’m more than happy when people interpret media on their own honestly, it’s just something I’ve been thinking of lately and I was wondering if others felt the same way.

Whatever you think when you interpret this scene or Rise Leo as a whole, I just thought this would be interesting to think about, even if it was ramble-y, haha.