#like it seriously means sooo much to me

[mountaesan]

IM LITERALLY GROMITTING OML THANK YOU SM ??? its my first time receiving this kind of feedback and its literally making me giggle and kick my feet under my sheets rn LMAO i’m so glad my intentions in terms of flow were able to get across to you easily, it was something that i had spent a lot of time focusing on !!

and yes !! it’s canon ( i declare it canon LOLL ) that they’ve loved each other since high school, in a multitude of ways, including but not limited to, platonic and romantic ways :)) they’re each others pillars . y/n patches up leehan when he’s injured and leehan takes care of y/n and makes sure they don’t overwork themselves when school becomes too much . i love them sm :’)

mend me, love me ; k. leehan 

pairing. bad boy!leehan x nursing student!reader genre. hurt/comfort , pining , fluff , a twinge of angst , set in the 80’s but it’s not rly mentioned and it’s not essential to the plot synopsis. leehan was your first ever patient as well as your most frequent, treating him has always been second nature for you. so when he shows up at your window once again, unannounced, bruised and bleeding, you begin to wish that you could see him in different circumstances word count. 4.1k warnings. kissing , mentions of blood / fighting , one mention of a knife , leehan is injured , probably unrealistic and unsafe medical practices  playlist. fallingforyou by the 1975 , meet me in the hallway by harry styles , the night we met by lord huron , like real people do by hozier notes. these two are so precious to me . not proofread

The rain came down in a steady rhythm, a soft patter against the windowpane, threading through the quiet of your room like a soft lullaby. It’s the perfect Friday night. One of those rare evenings where everything feels settled, where there was no unfinished work tugging at the edges of your mind and no looming responsibilities weighing down your shoulders.

The state of your room was pristine, the scent of freshly laundered sheets mingling in the air with the faint herbal aroma of your tea, the steam still curling in the air from where you placed it on your nightstand. The air was cool from the rain, but the warmth of your post-shower skin seeped into the plush comfort of your blankets. It cocooned you in a delicious contrast of warmth and chill.

The dim glow of your desk lamp flickered slightly, its light casting long, slanted shadows across the room. It danced over the neatly stacked textbooks and scattered notes that—for once—weren’t demanding your attention.

With a deep breath, you nestled deeper into the comfort of your mattress, pulling the covers just a little higher as you opened your well-worn copy of Emma in your hands. The spine creaked with familiarity, the pages soft beneath your fingertips, the edges slightly frayed from years of love. You traced your thumb along the words, sinking in the world Austen so carefully crafted; where meddling and misunderstandings unfold within the genteel drawing rooms of Highbury.

The rain continued its ceaseless drumming, a quiet accompaniment to the turning of each page. The weight of the week melted away, dissolving into the hush of the storm and the safety of solitude. 

You’re glad to escape the world of responsibility and work; at least for a little while. In this moment, you were free: free to lose yourself in the clever and playful words of Jane Austen, warmed by your tea as you wrapped yourself in the comforting embrace of the quiet, rainy night.

The world outside is distant, softened by the misty glow of streetlights and the gentle patter of raindrops against your window. The steady rhythm soothed  you, lulling you deeper into—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Faint at first, barely enough to steal your attention from the pages between your hands. A soft, rhythmic tapping. Your brows furrowed, eyes flicking up from the curling pages of your beloved novel, confusion and caution pricked at your skin.

For a moment, you wondered if it’s just a loose branch from the storm, swaying against the glass. But then, the sound came again, more deliberate this time.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Tap. Tap.

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP—

And then—you saw it.

A face.

Pale against the rain-streaked window, dark eyes peering through the glass and strands of wet hair clinging to sharp cheekbones. 

Your breath caught in your throat, a strangled sound escaping before you could stop it. For a long moment, you simply stared, heart hammering against your ribs as you struggled to make sense of what you were seeing. 

The golden glow of your desk lamp flickered against the raindrops of your windowpane, catching on the sharp planes of his face—pale from the cold, his usual smirk replaced with a tight grimace. His fingers flexed and strained against the wet wood of the sill, and another gust of wind made the familiar looking boy—or ghost—sway precariously. 

“What the—” you spluttered. Finally snapping out of your daze, you scrambled out of bed.  You practically threw the book aside as you rushed to the window, fumbling with the latch. When you shoved it open, for a split second, you simply stood there, the wind howling through the open window as rain splattered against your cheeks and the cold air bit at your skin.

The sight before you was utterly absurd—Kim Leehan, soaked to the bone, clinging to your fourth-floor window for dear life. 

“Are you out of your mind? This is the fourth floor! How did you even—”

“A guy…” Leehan grimaced, tightening his grip on the slippery windowsill as his fingers began to slip. “Never reveals his secrets.” 

He was visibly struggling, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep himself from plummeting to his death—or at least an expensive visit to the hospital. Your stomach twisted when you glanced down, seeing nothing but the slick, empty space between him and the ground below. His dark eyes, sharp as ever despite the rain dripping into them, flickered up to meet yours.

“Nice to see you too,” he drawled, though the slight shake in his voice betrayed him. “I’d love to catch up, really, but I think hypothermia is knocking on my door—along with the whole falling to my death thing, so—”

“Okay, okay, shut up,” you grumbled, planting your feet as you hauled him in with as much strength as you can muster. He was heavier than you remember—lean but packed with muscle—and the rain didn’t make it any easier (can you tell that he’s done this a few times). Leehan groaned as his torso tipped over the edge, crashing into you as you staggered back onto your heels.

With a final, graceless heave, he tumbled in, landing in an unceremonious heap on your floor and rainwater seeped into your freshly vacuumed rug. A long silence stretched between you two, save for the steady drip, drip, drip of water pooling onto your pristine hardwood floor. You stared at him, breath still uneven from the exertion. He looked up at you through a mess of wet hair, breathing just as heavily, rainwater glistening along his jaw.

“What the hell, Leehan?” you finally said, hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline. “Why are you scaling buildings like some kind of delinquent Spider-Man?”

Leehan groaned, lifting his arm weakly before letting it drop back onto the floor. “One,” he started, voice hoarse, “never insult the best superhero like that ever again.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, he sluggishly sat up and peeled his drenched hoodie over his head. It takes a second for your to register what you’re seeing—but then, your stomach twists.

A deep, angry gash cuts across his torso, fresh and bleeding.

“And two,” he finally finishes, lips quirking into a weak, humorless smile as he gestured toward the wound.

Your frustration immediately morphed into something heavier, something sharper. “Leehan,” you breathed, crouching down beside him, “you need stitches.” 

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but you could see the exhaustion etched in the lines of his face, the slight tremor of his fingers as he pressed them into his side. “That’s why I’m here, doc.”

You exhaled through your nose as you rubbed at your temples. You should be used to this by now—Leehan showing up in the dead of night, bleeding and bruised, flashing that same reckless smile like it’s all just a joke. But it never gets easier. Not when it’s him.

“Bathroom,” you said with a firm voice. “Dry off, you know where the towels are. I’ll grab the suture kit.”

He nods, pushing himself to his feet with a wince. As he made his way to the bathroom, you pulled open a drawer to retrieve the spare clothes he’d left behind last time. (Which, coincidentally, had been because of the same exact reason.)

By the time Leehan emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel draped around his neck, you were already setting up the supplies at your desk. But the moment your eyes landed on him, you froze.

Bruises scattered across his arms and collarbone, blooming in shades of purple and blue. A fresh cut lingered just below his cheekbone and his bottom lip had been bloodied up, a stark contrast against his pale skin.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, the words sitting heavy on your tongue. You wanted to scold him. You wanted to demand why he always did this; why he never thought about himself.

But instead, you gestured toward your bed and muttered, “Lie down.”

He obeyed, settled back against the mattress and lifted his shirt without a complaint. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself, ignoring the tightness in your chest as you pressed a sterile cotton pad against the wound. His skin was warm beneath your fingers.

Leehan didn’t flinch. He never does. 

Instead, he watched you, head tilted against your pillow and dark eyes following every movement of your hands with a quiet sort of intensity. The kind that made your throat dry, the kind that made you wish you weren’t so used to this—patching him up and stitching him back together in the dim glow of your desk lamp while the rain sang against the window panes.

A tired cycle. A routine written into your friendship.

The room was quiet, save for the rain drumming against the window. You worked swiftly and precisely, and your hands moved with the familiarity of routine. Leehan didn’t flinch, doesn’t even so much as wince. He just stared at the ceiling, fingers tapping idly against his ribs. 

Finally, you broke the silence. “What was it this time?”

He exhaled slowly, his hand pausing mid-tap. “Just a small scuffle,” he muttered. “Some guys were messing with Woonhak. Thought it’d be fun to pick on him.”

Your brows furrowed. “So you decided to take them all by yourself?”

“It wasn’t like that.” He shook his head, eyes trained back on the ceiling as his jaw tightened. “I just threw a few punches to scare them off. But then someone pulled a knife, and then there were sirens, and, well…” He let out a breathy, humorless laugh. 

You pursed your lips as you knotted the last stitch a little too firmly. He hissed but didn’t complain.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, voice quieter this time.

“Yeah,” he muttered, head tilting slightly to look at you again. His lips twitched into something almost fond. “But that’s why I always come to you. Steadiest hands in all of Koz Uni’s nursing program.”

You didn’t look at him, didn’t let him see the way your expression wavered. Instead, you pressed a final piece of gauze over the wound, taping it down with the care of someone who wished they never had to do this in the first place.

“Yeah, well,” you murmured, smoothing down the bandage, “maybe next time, use that reckless head of yours for something other than getting it bashed in.”

Leehan hummed, the corner of his lips tugging up despite the exhaustion weighing heavy in his eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you pressed the heel of your palm into his forehead—not pushing, gently—until he groaned and swatted your hand away, muttering a curse under his breath. 

With a small smile, you leaned back, letting out a slow exhale. No matter how many times you gave Leehan stitches, you were always nervous like it was your first time. “You should rest,” you said. “You lost a lot of blood.”

After giving the typical ‘seek professional medical help in the morning’ lecture, you moved on to the rest of his minor injuries.

Your fingers moved with careful precision, the cotton ball, squeezed tightly between the tweezers in your grasp, was soaked in antiseptic as you dabbed gently at the wounds on Leehan’s arms. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, sharp and sterile, as it mingled with the lingering traces of rain and something distinctly him.

Leehan didn’t make a sound as you worked, though you could feel his eyes on you—dark, steady, and unwavering. The weight of his gaze pressed into you, searing like embers against your skin, but you refused to meet it. 

You focused on the task at hand instead, the rhythmic motion of cleaning, dabbing, and wrapping. Anything to ignore the way your pulse quickened with each passing second.

But it’s hard to ignore him when he’s so close.

The space between you was barely a breath. The warmth of his body radiated through the air, despite the damp chill that still clung to his skin from the rain. His hair was a mess, black strands falling over his forehead in uneven waves, and there was something disarmingly soft about him like this. Battered and bruised and yet, undeniably alive, existing in your space as if he belonged there.

And maybe he did.

You swallowed down the thought and willed yourself to focus. 

Your hands were steady as you finished treating the cuts on his collarbones, brushing over the bruises blooming across his skin with careful fingers. But when you reached his face, your confidence faltered.

The cut along his cheekbone was shallow but angry. A thin, jagged line that caught in the dim glow of your desk lamp. And then there was his lip—split and bloodied, the wound stark against the soft curve of his mouth.

You exhaled quietly, steeling yourself once again.

Leehan must’ve sensed your hesitation because he tilted his head slightly, giving you better access to his face. His lips curled into the ghost of a smirk, but his voice was quiet when he murmured, “You’re overthinking again.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, too focused on pressing the cotton ball to the cut on his cheekbone. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. He just watched you, his expression unreadable, eyes dark and glittering beneath the low light.

It’s unbearable.

The room felt smaller, the silence felt heavier. The storm outside softened into a quiet drizzle, but the air between you crackled with something you couldn’t quite name. Something warm and unspoken, coiling between the spaces where your hands nearly touched, where your breath nearly mingled with his own. 

Finally, you moved to his lip, hesitant as your fingers brushed against his chin, tilting his face ever so slightly toward you. His lips parted just the tiniest bit, his breath warm against your wrist as you dabbed at the wound, trying your best not to linger.

Your thumb grazed his bottom lip—barely there, light as air.

Leehan inhaled sharply.

Your stomach flipped, heart stammering violently against your ribs.

You didn’t dare to look at him. You couldn’t.

Instead, you cleared your throat, voice barely above a whisper as you muttered, “Almost done.”

Leehan didn’t reply. But when you finally, finally gathered enough courage to glance up at him, his gaze was already waiting for you. And in it, you saw everything.

The weight of every unsaid word. The years of late-night visits, quiet comforts, and silent understandings. The way he looked at you now, like you were something fragile and precious—something he had spent too long pretending he didn’t want to hold on to.

Your breath was caught in your throat.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

And then—

“There,” you whispered, pulling back, severing the moment before it could unravel completely. “All done.”

Leehan watched you for a second longer, gaze lingering and unreadable. Then, his lips twitched—barely a smirk, more like an exhale of something unspoken.

“Thanks, doc,” he murmured. 

And just like that, the tension splintered.

But the weight of his gaze still lingered—on your skin, in your breath, in the quiet thrum of your heart against your ribs. 

And you don’t think it’ll ever leave.

Leehan stayed the night, like he always does. It was an unspoken tradition, a ritual that neither of you ever acknowledged out loud but followed without question. After every fight, every wound you stitched up, he stayed—like your dorm was the only place he knew to go.

The bed was too small for the both of you, but neither of you made a move to change it. You laid next to each other, bodies barely touching. Only the occasional brush of an arm, a shift of weight, a shared breath in the darkness. The air was thick with the scent of rain and the sharp sterility of antiseptic still lingering faintly between you.

The world outside was still now. The storm had passed, leaving only the rhythmic dripping of water from the eaves, the occasional rustling of tree branches against your window. Moonlight spilled in through the glass, casting fractured shadows across the ceiling, across the sheets, across him.

Leehan was lying on his side, turned toward you, and you should tell him to be careful. You should remind him that his stitches need time to set, that his body needs rest, that lying like this is only going to make it worse. But the words don’t come.

Because he’s watching you.

And you’re watching him.

His face was half-lit, half-hidden in the dim glow of the moon, his dark eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. You trace over the curve of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw, the way his damp hair clings stubbornly to his forehead. Your gaze caught on his lips—split and swollen, still stained with the faintest trace of blood.

Before you even realized what you were doing, your hand moved on its own.

Your palm found the coolness of his cheek, thumb grazing over the cut on his lip with barely-there pressure. The moment your skin met his, Leehan exhaled softly, his eyes fluttering shut like he was melting beneath your touch. His body relaxed, tension unwinding in slow, steady waves, as if he’d been waiting for this.

You whispered into the dark, "I wish you didn’t keep coming to me like this."

Your voice barely carries between you, but Leehan hears it. You know he does, because his fingers twitched slightly against the sheets, because his breath caught just enough for you to notice.

After a beat, you added, "You know it breaks my heart… right?"

Leehan’s eyes opened again, slow and heavy-lidded, the shadows deepening in their depths. His gaze was unreadable, something between sorrow and something else— raw and tender. He lifted his hand, covering yours where it rested against his cheek, his fingers curling gently around yours.

"… I know," he murmured. "I’m sorry."

The weight of those words settled between you. There was something unspoken in the silence that followed, something fragile and uncertain yet wholly understood.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The only sound in the room was the soft, rhythmic ticking of the clock on your wall, the occasional drip of rainwater outside. The world felt impossibly small, folding in on itself until it was just the two of you, here, now.

Summoning every ounce of courage left in you, you whispered, "Please don’t make me worry like this."

Leehan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted, fingers tightening ever so slightly around your own before he slowly brought your hand to his lips.

Your breath stuttered.

His lips—soft despite the split, warm despite the cold—pressed gently against your knuckles, lingering for just a moment too long.

Your heart ached.

"I always knew you were going to be a nurse," he murmured, voice low, words melting into the space between you. 

Your breath stilled for a moment. “What?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“I could tell back in high school,” he continued, his fingers further interlacing with yours. “Every time I got into a fight, you were always the one patching me up. Cleaning my cuts, scolding me and clucking over me like an old mother hen. You liked making people feel better.”

You swallowed as something warm bloomed in your chest. “I liked making sure you didn’t bleed out on the pavement,” you muttered.

You shook your head, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights pooling against your ceiling. You remembered those days vividly—him showing up at the doorstep of your childhood home with bruised knuckles and split lips; you pressing antiseptic pads to his wounds in an empty janitor’s closet while you muttered under your breath about his recklessness.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you had always been like this—drawn to fixing things, to soothing the ache in others, even when it hurt you in turn.

“You were always my favorite patient,” you admitted, turning your head to look at him again. He still had your hand pressed against his lips.

He exhaled slowly, and when he met your gaze, there was something lingering in his eyes. Something that made your stomach twist and your heart clench.

“Yeah,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

Another kiss—this time to the back of your hand, his breath featherlight against your skin.

Leehan lingered there, lips against your skin, like he was afraid to move, like this was something fragile that could shatter if he so much as breathed too hard. His grip on your hand tightened just slightly, as if grounding himself, and for the first time, you saw it—really saw it.

The way his eyes softened when they met yours. The way he always came to you, no matter how bruised and battered, no matter the hour or distance. The way he let himself melt under your touch, let himself be taken care of in a way you were sure he didn’t let anyone else.

He loved you.

And maybe—no, definitely—you had always loved him, too.

You weren’t sure who moved first, if it was you or him, but suddenly the space between you vanished. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and slow, mingling with yours in the stillness of the room. Your noses brushed, the barest hint of touch, but neither of you pulled away. 

You let your fingers slip from his just enough to trail along his wrist, feeling the steady beat of his pulse beneath your touch. Your hand traveled higher, skimming up his arm, over the curve of his shoulder, before settling against the side of his neck. He let you. He always let you.

Leehan swallowed, the movement shifting beneath your palm. His lips parted, but no words came. You could see it—the hesitation, the fear of breaking whatever fragile thing existed between you. 

“If I tell you something,” he whispered, voice unsteady, “will you promise not to run?”

Your throat felt tight. “Leehan…”

“Promise me.”

Your thumb brushed against the corner of his jaw, just barely tracing the line of his throat. “I promise.”

A shaky exhale. Then—

“I think I’ve loved you since the first time you pulled me into that abandoned janitor’s closet and shoved a crumpled up band-aid into my hands. ” He let out a quiet, breathy laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “Maybe even before that.”

Your chest ached.

Maybe it was the way he said it—like it had been sitting inside him for years, waiting, festering, like he’d carried this love in his bloodied knuckles and broken skin, in every glance and in every touch that lingered just a second too long.

Or maybe it was the way you had always felt it, too.

Leehan swallowed, his lips parting like he wanted to say something else, but you beat him to it.

“I love you.”

It slipped out, simple and certain, like breathing, like a truth you had always known but never dared to say.

His entire body went still.

And then—slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid you might disappear—he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, his nose nudging yours. His fingers found your waist beneath the blankets, tentative, uncertain. His touch was barely there, but it burned all the same.

You felt, more than saw, the way his eyes softened.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

You smiled, your heart stammering in your chest.

“I love you.”

Leehan exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead harder against yours like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, the warmth of this moment. His hands—scarred and calloused, always rough, always bruised—cupped your face, thumbs brushing tenderly over your cheekbones.

“God,” he murmured, voice thick. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

And then, with all the gentleness in the world, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent—it was slow, careful, full of years of quiet longing and late-night patch-ups, of stolen glances and words left unsaid. He kissed you like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers, like you were something sacred, something he had no right to hold but was holding anyway.

When he pulled away, his lips were trembling against yours.

“You break my heart too, you know,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Then let me be the one to mend yours,” you whispered back. “Just like I’ve mended your wounds since we were sixteen. And I promise, I always will.”

A breath.

A soft, breathless chuckle.

And then—Leehan’s lips found yours again, sealing the promise between you.

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[milquetoad]

of the many injustices put forth toward the show by fans i think the most overall damaging and telling of a complete lack of critical viewership is the idea that sam riegel builds his characters with nothing more than the bit in mind. like you are only telling on yourself if you think characters like scanlan shorthalt and veth brennato are one-dimensional and depthless

[unproduciblesmackdown]

set out to create a serious, canonesque drawing with which to say "feel free to go in my lackadaisy tag and help me mystery speculate" but only got going when i made it bowling and the rarepair agenda

[chatdae]

love how the older skaters in the senior division give Yurio encouragement and that each time it pisses Yurio off. JJ is intentionally condescending so that makes sense, but with Viktor and Yuuri they're not even being condescending. Yurio's just dialed in on being a hater... and i love that for him <3

[mymarifae]

hi ur akty fic changed my life btw. i cried multiple times reading it (talking ab what’s a little kiss btwn bros)

followed it when it was starting, thought it’d be goofy., it was goofy but it was also so much more Ough i love shinonome akito ……. was rereading it and got reminded of how utterly insane it made me feel (a good thing. that is a good thing)

so, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU!! please do not stop writing. you make wonderful things

AAAHHHH i'm so happy you enjoyed it !!!! :') thank you so, so much 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 and i don't plan on stopping writing any time soon, don't worry! >:) i have lots and lots of stories up in my brain... and i can't wait to tell them. i hope they'll continue to make everyone smile

[angeltism]

sigh,, sooo much admiration for so many and yet nwo skills 2 be able to purroperly express it,, I adore so much and can never rlly tell others how much I admire and care about them!! So annoying!!!

Mewtuals you guys are so awesome and I hope you know you guys r soso important 2 mwe and y'all are all so talented, each in your own unique n amazing ways!!!

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe accidentally puts barry on speaker..

warnings: enemies to ???, bitchy!kook!reader might make some of you frustrated but please just trust the process loll, teasing, flirty banter, majorrrr sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of absent parents/abandonment, arguing

a/n: this is part four of this mini series <3 i cannot believe i’m writing one more part to this before it’s over. thank you to everyone who continue to show their love and support, it truly means so much to me!!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 3.0k

“you’re going over to rafe’s and you didn’t even tell me?!” chanel shot up from her spot on your bed while you ran around your room trying to put an outfit together. “i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay?! all he said was that we got off on the wrong foot and he wants to start over. that’s it.” chanel arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “he sooo wants to fuck you, please tell me you’re not playing coy just to give him the benefit of the doubt.” you stayed silent, avoiding her gaze.

“y/n—”

“nothing is gonna happen between us. you and topper are dating now, so it would only be fair if me and rafe could at least try to get along since we’ll be around each other a lot more.” your best friend scoffed, not buying a single word that was coming out of your mouth. “don’t use me and topper as your excuse for giving rafe a chance, just say you’re interested in him! it’s totally fine if you are..” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you scanned your closet for a pair of heeled boots. “wow, chanel. i’m honestly offended that you think i’d ever give rafe a real shot.”

slipping on your shoes, you cursed under your breath as chanel watched you struggle with the zipper. “well, excuse me,” she strutted off, plopping down on your bed once again, “i just thought since you were totally eye fucking him out on the golf course the other day that you’d at least have agreed because there was some kind of attraction there.” you huffed. of course she’d bring that up. “i may have called him every single name in the book, but i never said he wasn’t handsome, alright? anyone with eyes would tell you the same thing.” you rolled your eyes once you heard her cackle. “whateverrr!”

one hour and three outfit changes later, and you found yourself posing for chanel’s camera as she snapped pictures of you in your sexy getup. “it should be a crime that you look this hot and you’re just going to rafe’s house. like he seriously needs to take you to the mainland and show you off or something.” you were quick to grab your purse and make your way downstairs once you saw that you were already running thirty minutes late. “will you be here when i get back?” you asked her, spritzing some perfume in the curve of your neck. “uhh, duh! i’m gonna need all the dirty details..”

you took that as your cue to leave. “not happening!” you called out, making your way down to the car out front. chanel waited until you got in before stepping back inside. the drive wasn’t long, considering rafe only lived about eight minutes away from you. it wasn’t until you were standing in front of rafe’s door that you realized you probably should’ve asked for his number back when you two talked at the country club. oh, god. you two haven’t even had any kind of communication since then.

what if he wasn’t home?

..or worse; what if he completely forgot about the whole thing and you were standing out here like a total idiot?

“this is stupid..” you whispered, looking back to see if your car was still there. before you could overthink, you stepped back once you heard the door unlock, the hardwood opening up to reveal rafe in a collared shirt that made his biceps look like they were going to burst through the fabric. “i thought you stood me up there for a minute.” he moved aside, motioning for you to come in before shutting the door behind you. “i almost did..” rafe snorted at your words, shaking his head before taking the view of you in.

“you look— wow..” you watched as his eyes raked down your figure, his jaw ticking once he saw how revealing your dress was. “you like it?” you turned around, looking back at him through your lashes. swallowing thickly, rafe didn’t say a word as he lead you two over to the living room with his hand resting in the small of your back. “for someone who swore they weren’t trying to sleep with me, the candles aren’t really convincing..” you looked around his set up, the living room being illuminated by the soft flickers of candle flames along with a bottle of wine and two glasses that sat in the middle of the coffee table.

“oh, so you’re saying i have a chance?” rafe sat you down, wasting no time in pouring you both a drink. crossing one leg over the other, you let your dress ride up your thighs before humming. “mmm, no.” rafe sighed, handing you a glass before settling in next to you. “we’ll see about that.” you ignored the way your stomach flipped once rafe draped an arm across your shoulders, your cheeks heating at how close he was. taking a sip from your glass, you glanced at him briefly before relaxing in his hold.

silence fell over you two and you swore rafe could hear your heart beating out of your chest. “am i tripping, or are you nervous right now?” you laughed, the sound making you inwardly cringe. “you wish, ‘cameron.” rafe smiled at your obvious facade. he could see right through you. “it’s kinda hard to tell,” he lied, “i mean— you show up to my place looking like this, i’d assume the last thing you could feel right now is nervous.” his mouth was right next to your ear, the bass of his voice making you squirm in your seat.

“that’s your problem,” you breathed out shakily, “you’re always just assuming things.” rafe tongued his cheek, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “speaking of that..” he trailed off, “i know i already apologized to you last time we talked, but i want you to know that i truly do regret speaking about you in a negative light.” you knew he was being sincere by the way he was looking at you. “it’s fine,” you waved him off, “it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me a bitch. ‘spoiled little brat’ isn’t a new one either, i just wish people understood that even that title comes with a cost.” rafe’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“what do you mean by that?” the last time this same exact topic came up, you shut down and put your defenses back up once you realized the conversation was veering towards your relationship, or lack there of, with your parents. you were so tired of being misunderstood, you decided that you’d just let rafe know about the very things you became accustomed to hiding. “i’m still paying for everything that i have and everything that i continue to buy, just not in the way that you might think..”

“how then?” you closed your eyes for a moment. there was no coming back from this. “my parents just give me everything because they feel guilty— guilty for not being there.. like ever.” you laughed incredulously. “not there?” rafe repeated, “your parents have their own column in kildare’s newspaper, they have to be here.” you shook your head, taking another drink from the wine in your glass. “no, they don’t.. i haven’t seen or heard from them in eight months.” rafe’s eyes widened. “what? well where the hell are they?!” he spoke up.

“it’s ironic. they actually bought another house on the mainland and didn’t tell me shit about it. i found out a while back when i opened the congratulatory letter from their realtor. ‘guess they haven’t had a chance to change their postal address yet.” rafe took a minute to put your words together, his arm leaving your shoulders so he could rub his temples. “so let me get this straight,” he started, “you’ve been all by yourself in that empty house of yours for months now, and in order for your parents to ‘make up’ lost time, they just give you money so that they don’t feel bad for essentially abandoning their daughter?” you winced as soon as you heard it.

you hadn’t come to terms with the ‘a’ word just yet, though it’s been lingering in the back of your mind since you were a little girl. “i don’t know about ‘abandoning’ per say, they still support me..” your voice cracked and you hated it. the sound drew rafe’s attention immediately. “uh, yeah— with money. but what else?” he scoffed. “what else could i possibly need? in their minds; i have it all. which i kind of do, but it all means nothing at the end of the day when i have a dining table that can sit twenty people and i’m the only one sitting at it.” your last sentence hit particularly close to home for rafe, especially since he has spent countless evenings eating dinner by himself at his own oversized table.

he could see the hurt written all over your face. you two weren’t so different after all. “i’m sorry.” rafe’s voice barely came out above a whisper, his hand finding your knee as you shook your head. “don’t be. i’ve stopped the pity party a long time ago,” you cleared your throat, “please say something about you now because i don’t think i could handle being the only one in the hot seat.” rafe’s mind started reeling as he was unsure of what to say.

“uhm, well— since we’re on the topic of fucked up parents..”

for the next hour and a half, rafe gave you the full rundown of him and his dad’s relationship, not leaving out a single detail as you listened to him intently. “as much as i wanted to make my dad proud of me, everything i did was never enough for him. i was a fuck up for a long time but i stepped up when he couldn’t and he never recognized that.” you and rafe had long since forgotten about your wine glasses, and were now taking turns drinking from the actual bottle itself. “if he hated me then, he would hate me even more now.” he sighed, leaning all the way back into the cushions of the sofa.

you blinked once you saw him manspread, the alcohol taking its effect as it ran through your system. “why?” your voice came out higher than usual, the sound being a dead giveaway that you were now officially tipsy. “because.. i don’t have my family together the way he would’ve wanted. rose, my dad’s wife, took my little sister to an undisclosed location and deactivated her phone so it’s impossible for me to have direct communication with her, and sarah ran off without telling me any details, so she could be pretty much anywhere, and yeah, that sums everything up.”

you stared at the side of rafe’s face, his features being highlighted by the soft light flickering in the room. in your current position you could feel rafe’s chest rise and fall with each breath, the warmth of his body against your own making you feel fuzzy inside. rafe had his hand resting comfortably on the side of your thigh, your legs draped across his lap as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “it sounds like we’re just lonely people.” you whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. oddly enough, rafe didn’t expect you to make him feel this comfortable so fast.

while he was sure it was the alcohol that made you lighten up and actually cling to him, he realized quickly that he liked feeling you close. “you know.. i could surround myself with all of my friends, go to parties where the living room is filled to the fucking brim, and yet, right now is the first time i can genuinely say that i don’t feel alone with you right here next to me.” your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. you didn’t realize just how bad you needed to be understood by someone until now.

you don’t know when, but you found yourself leaning into him, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you towards his lips. you couldn’t believe this was happening, sober or not, you’ve known all along that the bickering and fighting was building up just for this very moment.

..and then his phone rang.

you were less than an inch away from each other, both of you freezing right before your lips could meet. “fuck.” he pulled away, making you purse your lips together as he took the device out of his pocket. following his line of vision, you looked down at the contact name. barry. your eyebrows knitted in confusion. who the hell could that be, and why did they have to call right this second? “shit, i gotta take this,” he cursed under his breath, “i’ll be right back. promise.” you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

it’s fine, you needed to reapply your lipgloss anyways.

out of habit, rafe put his old friend on speaker, the volume loud enough for you to hear the unfamiliar voice from the kitchen. “what.” rafe sounded irritated once he spoke into the receiver.

“country club!” you felt your heart drop at the name, “where the fuck have you been? you’re too ‘rich boy’ to swing by and drink a beer on the cut?” your stomach twisted as you felt your blood run cold.

country club. the cut. your past conversations with your so called ‘mystery’ man ran through your head, everything that you once suspected now coming to fruition. oh, god, how could you have missed all of the signs? the night you two both went on a date.. the same date where you sent him nudes in the bathroom of his own boat. his little ‘cute skirt.’ comment after you texted him saying that you were wearing one in hopes for him to find you somewhere. suddenly you felt like the room was getting smaller, your sanity hanging on by a single thread.

no, you had to be overthinking this. surely, rafe couldn’t be your guy. if he was, that means he has known who you are behind the screen for who knows how long? just as you stood up, rafe came back into the living room. “sorry about that, it was nothing—” you cut him off, “country club?” he froze. it wasn’t until he saw the mortified look on your face that he realized he made the grave mistake of putting barry’s call on speaker. eyeing the front door behind him, rafe lunged for you the second you tried to leave the living room.

“y/n—” he grabbed your shoulders, your eyes watering out of embarrassment. “you can’t be him.” you shook your head as he backed you up into the wall. “i am, though,” he took ahold of your wrists so you could stop thrashing against him, “i am him.” you felt a shiver run down your spine at the confirmation. “and you’re you. you’re mine.” you scoffed, turning your head away from his view. “let go of me.” rafe didn’t budge, your frustration only growing.

“i found out you were my girl after our date on the druthers. the same necklace, the nails.. the things you’ve said to me in person being repeated over the phone. i knew it was you.” you whimpered, still trying to get out of his grip. “i’m not your girl, don’t call me that.” rafe smiled, his broad build towering over you with ease. “you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. in case you forgot, we both did some things.”

“shut the fuck up.” you finally managed to push him away, your hands flying to pull the hem of your dress down. “why would you go on without telling me anything, don’t you realize how fucking stupid i must feel right now?!” you cried out. “i wanted you to find out once you felt ready to, okay?! what happened right now was a mistake on my part, i’m sorry!”

“there’s no ‘me and you’, i’m not yours, and you aren’t mine. this should’ve never happened.” rafe hated how those words sounded coming out of your mouth. “the switch up is crazy.” he laughed, shaking his head. “just five minutes ago you were ready to kiss me, and right before that we spent nearly two hours discussing our differences and being vulnerable with each other. now what?” you let out a breath. “we would never work. let’s just leave it at that—” rafe was already disagreeing with you before you could finish your sentence.

“i won’t just ‘leave’ it. i can’t.” he stepped closer. “you’re saying we’ll never work, but you won’t even try.” rafe scoffed, “who’s stopping us? is this like an ego thing? say the word and i’ll set you straight right now.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your body reacted to his words. “you really sat there in my face and acted clueless..” you glared at him, “you know things about me that no one else— not even my best friend, knows about,” you whispered, “this is too much for me right now.”

sniffling, you felt relief wash over you once you heard a honk outside. “don’t leave,” rafe pulled you from walking to the front door, “please, we could figure something out.” without another word, you left, rafe’s voice calling out to you with each step you got closer to the car. you were able to compose yourself before you got home, thankful that chanel was knocked out cold so you wouldn’t have to recap the shitty night you just had.

taking your phone out of your purse, you were met with multiple messages from rafe himself.

[11:44 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m not letting you run away from this.

[11:45 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : we see each other everyday y/n, we’re gonna have to talk this out at some point.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m sorry.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : you have every reason to be mad at me, i could understand that.

[11:48 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : look. i have to go on the mainland for some business stuff but i’ll be staying at the ‘paradise’ hotel for the next week. i’ll be there any time after eight, i’ll text you my room details when i get checked in. please just come see me.

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[hearts4hughes]

rafe request - you having a nightmare where rafe cheated on you and even though it’s not real your still mad at rafe. maybe giving him the silent treatment and him having to apologize (even though he did nothing wrong lol)

A/N: i love whatever trope this is considered sooo much

rafe stirs from his sleep as golden spills from the opened curtains. he groans, eyes still shut as he reaches out expecting to meet your warm body. his eyes shoot open when he doesn’t feel you.

scratching the back of his neck, he scrambles out of bed and into the kitchen where you are pouring yourself a cup of coffee. he smiles when he sees you clad in your boxer shorts and tiny tank top.

“morning, beautiful.” he greets, his voice still raspy with sleep. his arms snake around your waist from behind, causing your body to stiffen. "why are you up so early?" he presses sweet kisses along the back of your neck.

you wiggle away from his grip, not even sparing him a glance or a response. he squints in annoyance and confusion. what had he done now?

“ignoring me, are we?” he asks as he grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him. you greet him with a glare. “why’re you looking at me like that? i didn’t do anything.” he was dumbfounded at your unusual coldness.

“you cheated on me.” you stated simply with a pout.

“no i did not-”

“in my dream.” you specified. “you cheated on me in my dream.”

a laugh escaped his lips as you said that. but as you continued to glare at him, not finding this amusing, his eyes widened. “are you seriously mad at me for what i did in your dream? it’s not real, baby.”

“dreams foreshadow the future, asshole. so, that means you’re planning on cheating on me.” your tone left no room for debate. rafe’s jaw was agape. he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.

“that’s such bullshit. you can’t be mad at me, right?” his amused tone made your eyes water and lip begin to quiver. tears started streaming down your face. “oh, honey, don’t cry. i’m, i’m… sorry for dream rafe. he’s such an asshole.”

“you’d never cheat on me, right?” you asked as through a choked out sob.

“i would never do that to you. not in a million years!” he reassured, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair. “you’re so perfect, the only girl for me.” he murmured through kisses to the top of your head.

as you began to calm down, he pulled you away from his chest. his eyes traced over your face. “are you ok now?” you nodded and bit your lip.

“i’m sorry. it just felt so real.” your voice was tiny and quiet. s wave of embarrassment rushed over you, causing more tears to slip from your eyes. rafe shushed you, wiping away your tears, and mumbling more apologies.

“dream rafe is on thin ice.”

[giddyfatherchris]

📝 skz reaction - you're being a clingy baby

pairing. ot8!skz x gn!reader (individually)

type. fluff fluff fluffff, requested <3

warnings. gender neutral reader, curse words (thats how i show my enthusiasm okay)

a/n. i know last time i was like "meh sue me for not putting the boys in the 'right' order" but you know what, i actually like it like that. my boy jeongin is always last, he deserve to be first so i think i'm just gonna keep it like that when it comes to skz reactions :)

jeongin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would tease you like hell about it until one day you actually start crying and he feels so fucking bad he never does it again. (to be fair he probably laughed when you first started crying but when he realized they were real tears? he is panicking). after that he never denies you again and makes sure to give you attention whenever you need it. you're the only person he allows to be clingy and needy with him. which the boys are kinda petty about because they sure aren't allowed to be clingy with their maknae they love so much lol. they'd tease him sooo bad about it but every time he says it's different for you. you get special privileges.

seungmin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would def be annoyed when you're being clingy, not because he actually minds it but mostly because he knows you sometimes push it JUST to annoy him lmao. so in return he would deny you just for fun or when you ask him cute stuff he'd purposely answer seriously or act like he doesn't understand your request until you start wailing like a lost cat and then he can't resist anymore. oh and also, he loves to act that way when you're in public but behind closed doors? he can be just as clingy, it's different from when you are but still. he's not necessarily needy, but he wants. you. close. to him. he'd be the type to constantly want to be around you and get pouty when you can't.

felix ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly being clingy with felix only means one thing... you're spoiled rotten. you need hugs and cuddles? he will RUN to give them to you. you just want to stick to him like glue? 'sure baby come here'. you want to lay on his lap while he's playing games? not a problem. you don't even understand how you're feeling but you know you need to be with him? he will be there, arms wide open for you no questions asked. all your wishes will be executed because its just how it works between you two. and thing is, the treatment he gives you? you give it right back. so at this point, it's not even a question or a thought. it's simply second nature.

han ⊹ ࣪ ˖ getting han's attention when you're feeling clingy? it's tough. either because he will get side tracked by any little thing, despite his good intentions, so you'll have to remind him to stay with you or to give you a hug. orrrr he will goof off like crazy and will not leave you alone. until the point where you're physically trying to get as far away from him as possible. oh and he'd chase you, no worries "but babyyyy you said you needed love and attention. stop running." with the scariest most mischievous smile in the world until you actually start running away and hide from him because he will smother you with love. (but let's be honest you always end up letting him catch you because come on... you'll take all the love he'll give you)

hyunjin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he does not mind at all when you're being clingy. in fact he LOVES it. in skz, there is a holy trinity of baby talker and you can bet your ass he's one of them. he will baby talk (to the other boys utmost horror) and repeat your requests with the baby voice until everyone in the room physically cringe. oh and he's mean, he's a real lil bitch, so he will deny you cuddles just so you can pout harder. his heart melts at the sight of it and he can't help but want more. still, it'd only take you to give him the eyes before he'd giggle and pull you in for a big big hug while he digs in nose in the crook of your neck where you just smell so so good.

changbin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ being clingy with binnie can go one of two ways. first, he's just just not gonna mind at all. he'd notice you seem more clingy than usual and just signal for you to come next to him. he'd keep babbling or doing whatever it is he's doing but he'd put his arms around you mindlessly stroking your back and giving you little kisses on your forehead... OR he would return it ten times worse. i'm talking full on baby voice (member number 2 of the holy trinity), pinching your cheeks, exagerating your requests, jumping on your lap and he'd act clingy just to make you laugh. "aw my little baby needs cuddles? you feeling clingy? you want to sit on my lap? what if I sit on your lap instead?" "what no bin that's not- BIN YOU'RE SO HEAVY IM GONNA DIE"

minho ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly, he does not care. like at all, the teasing would be minimal but all in all he'd let you do whatever it is you want to do, give you whatever it is you need. because fine he likes to tease ppl, but he also loves cuddles and physical touch even if he would never admit it. often ppl won't dare to be clingy with him because of his black cat personality, but you've always been able to see behind that façade and to never let it scare you. so you do not hesitate to latch on his arm or rest your head in the crook of his neck while he's doing something. and it always feel like a sweet sweet reward when he simply drapes his arms around you, not even reacting to your touch like it's the most normal thing and second nature thing in the world for him.

bangchan ⊹ ࣪ ˖ uhm yeah bangchan? absolutely adores when you're clingy. in fact, he would get whiny if you're not constantly requesting cuddles and hugs and little kisses. he would also be a master of the baby voice and obliging to your every demand. he just loves to be needed and the way you need him makes him feel light as a feather. he'd come up to you "what is you need babe?" and you'd pout and ask whatever it is you want wether its a hug or cuddles or some time with him "i don't think i heard you well the first time. want to repeat that?" but right before you'd say it again he'd squish your cheeks together so you have the cutest pout on your mouth and you'd mumble than you can't exactly talk like that but he'd insist "no no you can, go ahead baby" you'd sigh and oblige "mhm-want-mhug?" and this man would squeal like a toddler because he thinks youre so cute he’s going to explode. chan does have the profile of someone with love aggresion and so he'd lovingly and agressively give you anything you want :)

[cuntyji]

sorry for the angst i posted before idk what was wrong with me (i was grieving)

it had been way too long since gojo left. you knew he was busy with work, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. so when you heard the sound of your front door opening, you practically sprinted across the room.

“toru!” you called out, eyes lighting up as you saw that stupid white hair and those stupidly pretty eyes behind his even stupider sunglasses.

but just as you reached out, you smacked into something. something very solid. you recoiled, blinking in surprise.

oh. infinity. you should’ve known.

“uh-uh,” gojo wagged a finger, smirking. “password first.” you sighed dramatically, crossing your arms. “seriously?”

“do i look like i’m joking?”

“you always look like you’re joking.”

“that’s because i’m a funny guy.”

“you’re something, alright.”

“aw, babe, you’re sooo in love with me,” he cooed, placing a hand over his heart.

you rolled your eyes, but the way your lips twitched betrayed your amusement. still, you weren’t about to let him win that easily. so, instead of giving in, you decided to be difficult.

“fine. password is… gojo sucks.”

his smirk widened. “mm, wrong answer.”

you tried again. “password is… my boyfriend is a menace and i should’ve found someone else by now.”

“cold. so cold,” he said, feigning a dramatic shiver.

“password is…” you trailed off, tapping a finger to your chin, “gojo's a loser.” gojo gasped, pressing a hand to his chest like you’d physically wounded him. “okay, now you’re just being mean.”

“oh, now i’m being mean?”

he gave you a pointed look. “say the real password and i’ll think about forgiving you.”

you huffed but finally relented, stepping closer to his barrier with a playful smile. “i love you, toru.”

in an instant, infinity dropped. before you could blink, he had you wrapped up in the tightest hug ever, lifting you off the ground as he spun you around. “satoru!” you laughed, gripping onto his shoulders. “i missed you,” he groaned into your neck, refusing to let go. “so, so much.”

“you were gone for two weeks.”

“might as well have been forever.”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart melted at the way he clung to you, like he was never going to let go. you ruffled his hair, chuckling when he leaned into your touch. “next time, just let me hug you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“hmm.” he grinned against your skin. “nah. making you say ‘i love you’ first is way more fun.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi finding out you pretended to be a boy in order to get trained properly and him falling head over heels for you after

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: If there's one thing you always hated, it was being underestimated. Because you're nothing but a petite girl in the eyes of every other demon slayer you stumbled upon with even the sound hashira going easy on you. They left you no choice but to pretend that you're a boy in order to finally get the training you deserve. Little did you know it will be the wind hashira himself who uncovers your dirty secret...

Warnings: it's Sanemi so language, the bonus scene is for those of you who are in desperate need of some spice (no direct smut), last part not proofread because this needs to be published and I'm tired lol

Thank you sooo much for that super cool request, @xxx-oneofthegirls-xxx, I hope you like what I came up with (also, you made me listen to one of the girls nonstop while writing this hehe)

You stare at your foreign reflection in the mirror, cheeks still burning. This looks ridiculous and you know it, your plan so plain and stupid that you regret your decision more and more with each passing second.

But you have to do this.

“Don’t overwork yourself, (y/n). You’ll rest here while the others run a few extra miles.”

“But Tengen-sama, I-“

“Here, let’s get you something to eat!”, Suma cried out.

“You’re overworking that poor woman, Tengen-sama”, Mako commented dryly.

“I already told her to take a break!”

Because without pretending that you’re a boy, they’ll never take you seriously. Not when you’re a petite girl, not when everyone treats you like porcelain because of your small frame and gender. You came her because you’re ready to fight, because being a demon slayer is your true destiny. You want to get trained hard, you urge to surpass yourself each and every day.

You stare at your eyes filled with determination in the mirror. Therefore, you need to make sure they see nothing but a normal boy in you. 

It’s hard to breathe properly with countless bandages tied around your chest in order to hide your feminine curves to their eyes. Carefully, you tie a ribbon around the ends of your hair and pull them up. Good, now your hair is about shoulder-length. A plain hairband that is convincing enough as a sweat band turns your usual longer hair into a temporary short cut.

Is this enough? Will the mist hashira actually believe you?

Confidently, you change into the uniform you stole from a boy nearby earlier and grab your katana. There is no other way than finding out.

“Where’s that little girl? Didn’t Tengen-sama allow her to continue?”

“Huh, you mean the little wallflower? I bet she gave up when she saw what hashira training really means. She wasn’t even strong enough to hold a sword.”

Your heart drops to the floor while your eyes automatically look down in panic and distress. Everyone underestimates you over the sheer fact that you’re a girl. But why? Why would you give up? Why is everyone thinking you aren’t strong enough when women like Shinobu Kocho show them how it’s done? You didn’t train since you were 4 to get reduced to your gender and height.

No, you’ll show them soon enough how good you really are and that you’re no one to be messed with.

“Look at him!”

“Who is that guy?”

“He fights as good as Tanjiro!”

“I’ve never seen him around. Do you know him?”

And you did. Training after training, hashira after hashira. Somehow, you surpassed them all. Despite your small frame, your disadvantage towards the boys with their ability to move freely in the scorching hot sun, you made it.

“It seems like you’re decent handling your sword. I have no use for you here anymore”, Obanai proclaims dryly.

You…you did it? You’ve been here for 3 days, spent the first day tied to a wall while getting smacked by some useless comrades. But you really convinced him, the serpent hashira, the man a lot of the others were so afraid of.

Your heart jumps up and down in excitement. You convinced him.

“Thank you”, you mumble in reply with deepened voice.

“Let’s see how you’ll keep up with Shinazugawa. Now get lost.”

Shinazugawa? You’ve heard that name before. Is this…the wind hashira? Your eyes widen as you sprint down the forest in the merciless sun. If Iguro Obanai is considered rough, Sanemi Shinazugawa has to be a menace. You heard from countless slayers that went back home as soon as they arrived at his estate, some beaten up so badly that they needed treatment.

For days.

You swallow hard. If this man finds out that you’re not who you pretend to be, you’ll be dead. But you have no other choice. After everything you’ve been through, you won’t give up because of the wind hashira’s bad reputation.

“How’s training going?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring into the distance.

“All of them are trash. There’s only one that is decent, though”, Obanai replies dryly.

“Don’t tell me it’s that Kamado brat-“

“No, I’ve never seen that boy before. No one seems to know who he is. He’s pretty small for his age and acts even weirder than the others but I can’t deny that he’s skilled. Even Kanroji…praised him”, Obanai presses out.

He’ll definitely never forget you for taking up the space of a full hand-written site in her note to him.

“You all went too easy on him, then. I’ll mop the floor with his ass when he gets to me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. There it is, the estate of the wind hashira. Only him and the stone hashira are left. Only these two until you’re able to drop your false identity and use your newest skills in a real fight. When you’re done here, you’ll finally be able to protect your village properly. No demon will ever hurt your friends and family again.

You just have to get through a few more days of training. A few more days with the wind hashira…

-two days later-

“Get lost, brats”, Sanemi barks out in sheer frustration.

Are these losers really supposed to be useful in a fight against Kibutsuji? They aren’t even good enough to hold their wooden sword correctly, let alone find the right stance to fight. God, this is such a waste of time, so fucking annoying that he smashes his own wooden sword into the ground roughly.

“Fucking useless rabble”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

When his blurry sight catches yours, he’s even more infuriated. He really thought the other pillars were too gentle with you. You, with your thin and small frame, with your innocent eyes that almost make you look like a girl. And while you look like the biggest loser of this whole corps, you manage to fight better than all the others.

“Enough of this bullshit, we’re using real swords now”, Sanemi barked at you while already grabbing his sharp katana.

“Fine.”

You didn’t storm towards him, didn’t act out of confidence or rage. You stayed so calm that Sanemi didn’t know how to act for the split of a second.

The split of a second. This minor moment was enough for you to lift your blade and scratch his cheek ever so slightly.

“Did he…Just hit the wind hashira?”

“This can’t be true. A strange guy like him, hitting one of the most powerful demon slayers?”

“You…You have some fucking nerve, little brat! I’ll make you pay for this!”

Oh, how often he tormented you. Made you stand up in the middle of the night for a fight, forced you to stand up against all your comrades. He pushed you over your limit over and over, made you suffer in a way he never did before.

But you still stand your ground. Still, you grab your wooden sword and follow the others inside at dawn as if nothing happened.

And it simply drives him insane.

“You, little brat!”

“Yes, Shinazugawa-sama?”

Your guts turn in an instant. In contrast to the other hashira training, this feels like a trip to hell and back. It almost seems as if the wind hashira made it his mission to let you suffer more than anyone else. What have you done to deserve his anger? Did you act out of line, aloof? It has to be the fact that you injured his cheek during your fight…

“Never mind. Get out of my sight.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Instantly, you turn on your heels and make your way to dinner. Maybe you’ll finally have to chance to wash yourself tonight. With all those unexpected training sessions and the wind hashira torturing you until far past midnight, you didn’t even find the time to take a bath. Urgh, you can’t wait to finally take those bandages off and to wash your itchy scalp. All that sweating without the relief of a jump in the cool lake nearby is definitely hard to endure.

But tonight. Tonight you’ll finally get the chance to escape the merciless gaze of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

He doesn’t know what keeps him up tonight. Is it the full moon that lights his room, his still enraged heart? It’s still hard to believe that you’re acting up like this, that you manage to hit him. Out of all the jerks he trained, why does it have to be the smallest and therefore weakest one?

Maybe all he needs is letting his anger out on you. Sanemi storms into the dormitory wearing nothing but a casual yukata. He might hunt you around the lake for a few rounds or lets you practice your sword bows until you turn blue-

But his eyes don’t get greeted by your hair sticking out underneath you’re blanket.

“Where the hell are you, brat?”, he hisses to himself.

“This feels like heaven”, you moan to yourself while you dip your head into the cool water.

You never cared about getting covered in mud or dried blood sticking to your skin. But oh, the feeling of cleaning yourself up again after a rough day is just unmatched. Gently, your fingers brush through your wet hair, free yourself from all the dirt of those last days.

When will you be able to return? After that, only the stone hashira is left. How did you manage to land all the way over here? Hiding behind the identity of a boy no one know in order to get treated equally. Your efforts were definitely worth it. With those countless new techniques you’ve learned, you’ll finally be able to stand up against the demons that haunt down your village on a regular basis. Finally, you’ve got the education you deserved.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

All color drains from your face in an instant. You don’t have to look past his knees to know who stays right in front of you. Why didn’t you hear him coming? How did he manage to show up in front of you without you noticing?

“S-Shinazuwaga-sama”, you breathe out.

It doesn’t matter how he found you. With your hair open and your upper body barely covered by the water, he already saw through your well-hidden secret. Or better said, your lie.

“You’re so dead.”

You can’t escape. In the matter of seconds, he is with you in the water and grabs your wrists roughly.

“You lied into our faces this whole time?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I had to-“

“You’re nothing but a little girl!”

“You left me-“

“What else do you have to hide? Are you even a demon slayer? I’m totally in the mood to kill you right on the spot-“

“YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE”, you finally blurt out.

“No choice? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“Tengen-sama treated me like porcelain because I’m a woman, but I didn’t want that! I wanted to train like the boys do, I wanted to suffer like everyone else! How am I supposed to become a decent swordswoman when everyone goes easy on me because of my gender!?”

“You…You lied to us.”

“I did.”

“You aren’t a guy.”

“I’m not.”

Thick silence hangs between both of you, only interrupted by sharp and heavy breaths. What now? Will he send you away in dishonor or even worse, exclude you from the corps completely? You’ve worked so hard to even get accepted, poured your heart and soul into those past days. All of this, vanishing in thin air?

“Please don’t send me away”, you finally press out.

“Are you dumb? Ain’t no way I’m letting you stay-“

“I can’t return home in dishonor. I did all of this to be able to protect my family and village. If I return home like this…”

You can’t finish your sentence, your throat suddenly feeling so tight that you even fail to breathe.

“Get out of my sight.”

“But I-“

“I said get out of my sight!”, he screams on top of his lungs.

You flinch backwards and almost trip into the water. Talking doesn’t do much. If you’re not leaving the next few seconds, he might drown you.

With a heavy heart you leave the water, carefully hiding behind a tree until you’re fully dressed again.

“What’s your real name?”, he shouts towards you harshly.

“My name is (y/n)”, you mutter, not daring to look into his cold eyes.

And then you stumble back. Back into the dormitory you know so well by now. Back into what might be the last night at the demon slayer corps for you.

“Remember that skilled guy you told me about?”, Sanemi mumbles while staring at the ground.

“Yeah. What about him?”

“It’s not him. She’s a fucking girl that pretended to be a guy.”

It still feels like a feverish dream. Why did nobody realize sooner? Not even himself…God, he’s such an idiot for not throwing you out instantly. You lied straight into his face, you lied to the whole demon slayer corps all this time. You deserve to leave, you deserve all that hatred and disgust.

“That’s actually quite impressive. How did you find out?”, Obanai comments dryly.

“I caught her bathing. Said she didn’t want to get differently because she’s a girl.”

Just the thought of seeing you there lit by nothing but moonlight, your long hair draped like a veil around you and your female curves he didn’t even know existed…

“That are some unexpected news. Do the others know?”

“I won’t tell ‘em. I’ll kick her out the corps when I return.”

“Why kicking her out? No matter if boy or girl, you can’t deny she’s the most promising one until now. Why not keeping her?”

“Keeping her?”, Sanemi repeats in sheer disbelief.

“Ain’t no way I’ll ever speak to a filthy little liar like her again.”

“Her plan worked, though. And I hate to admit it, but she did pretty good.”

Sanemi’s furious eyes dart towards Obanai in nothing but frustration. You fooled every single hashira until now. You hold so much potential that eventually…Would you survive as his tsugoko?

“I’ll leave”, he finally speaks out before turning his back on Obanai and storming away.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

How utterly dumb you feel sitting on that porch with your wet hair still open in the cool breeze far past midnight. You have no idea where he went, if he’s out to inform the head of the corpse about your behavior or even worse, your own family. Is it too early to pack your few belongings, to leave before he comes back? You definitely can’t stand another round of getting yelled at by the wind hashira.

“What are you doing here outside, brat?”

Fuck. He steps out of the darkness like an unpromising shadow with his face as hard as stone.

“I can’t sleep anyway”, you murmur.

“I’m so fucking mad at you for shitting me like this. Pretending you’re a guy while you’re just a girl.”

“I’m not just a girl”, you clarify sharply.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re a lying little brat but-“

He takes a deep breath in while sitting down next to you.

“But you’ve got what it takes. I’ve been looking for a decent tsugoko for quite some time now and-“

You can’t believe your ears. This man can’t possibly be the wind hashira you know by now, the man who looked like he’ll drown you any minute just a few hours ago. He can’t suggest to take you in as his tsugoko, right? There’s absolutely no way this man wants to train you on a regular basis-

“And maybe you’re that decent fit.”

Oh.

“Me, as your tsugoko”, you repeat his words in order to make them sound real.

“I’ll still kick your ass for lying into my face like that, though”, he adds aggressively.

Never in your life would you ever dreamed of being the apprentice of a hashira. You always worked hard, always made sure to develop your skills with everything you do, but being considered a tsugoko? Of the wind hashira, who never takes in a student? Who seems so rough and cruel but allowed you to handle your katana even better?

“I’d love that”, you finally breathe out.

“I’m beyond thankful you’re e-“

“Shut up immediately. A yes is enough. You’ll stay here with me, then.”

“Y-yes, Shinazugawa-sama!”

“No go to sleep, I can’t beat your ass when you’re tired”, he mumbles before getting up and leaving while your feelings are still over the place.

You, the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

-a few months later-

“Gimme your best shot now, brat!”, he barks at you.

Sweat runs down your forehead like a waterfall, your heavy panting tasting like blood. Just one more hit, one more strike and you’ll get him.

“Thunder breathing, fourth form-“

“Too slow”, he comments next to your ear.

Within the split of a second, you find yourself just inches away from the dirty ground with Sanemi’s arms keeping you from falling.

“Still not fast enough. Do it again.”

Mindlessly, he still drops you into the dirt with his sword casually draped over his shoulder.

You lift yourself off the ground with trembling limbs. There you are again, deep within your trip to hell and back. What you expected when agreeing on being the tsugoko of Sanemi Shinazugawa?

You grab the handle of your sword even tighter and storm towards just like you did hundreds of times before with the smallest of smiles creeping up your features.

Well, exactly that.

-steaming hot bonus: meeting in the lake at night-

You allow the cool water to caress your countless wounds gently. How good it feels to finally bathe every single day instead of once every few days. When the truth came out and everyone started to realize that you aren’t a boy, you regained a part of your freedom along with the merciless training of the wind hashira. Each and every day, he tortured you and others with his cruel training methods before you slide into the lake before the sun sets and go straight back to sleep.

Not today, though. It has to be almost midnight by now, the stars in the sky glimmering so magnificent that you can’t look away. Sanemi allowed you to visit your family and friends today. As you have learned, demon attacks have subsided since the sister of Tanjiro Kamado mastered the sun. And even though that means your loved ones will be safe, you can’t deny the slight turn of your guts. This means a war is around the corner, that Muzan Kibutsuji himself might come for all of you.

But this is nothing you should think about now. Not when you just returned and desperately longed for a bath. You dip your head into the cold water, moan to yourself as the water surrounds you fully-

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?”

Sanemi.

Out of instinct you cry out while burying everything except for your head inside the dark water. You’re butt-naked. How long has he been here already? And…has he seen you? Suddenly your whole body feels hot against the cool water around, cheeks turning dark red.

“Calm down, idiot-“

“How long have you been here already!?”

“What? I’m always taking a bath around this time. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here”, he clarifies dryly.

There he stands. Droplets of water run down his bare chest and almost make him shimmer in the moonlight. His wet hair stick to his face so delicately that you can’t force yourself to look away. He looks…hot.

Hot?

“I-uh…I just returned from…home”, you stutter.

“Hope your family is fine”, he mumbles along with slicking his hair back.

Within these past months, you’ve caught a glimpse of Sanemi you’ve never witnessed before. This man isn’t as cruel as everybody makes him look, his words aren’t always meant as harsh as they sound. Sanemi has a very tender side. Especially when his eyes soften for the blink of a moment, you couldn’t help but feel lost.

“They are. Apparently, the incidents with demons involved lessened when I departed”, you press out.

God, you’re acting ridiculous and you know it. Sanemi is your teacher, your training partner. Even though you’re living under the same roof (he even gave you an own room), there aren’t any romantical feelings between both of you.

“Good to hear. I’ll let you rest a little tomorrow morning. You have to be dead tired.”

“I’m fine”, you lie in an instant.

Truth is, you’re so drained out that the water is the only thing that’s able to keep your knees for failing you at the moment. Not only from your journey, but all those countless harsh training sessions, dueling yourself over and over with Sanemi and the others. But you’d never admit it, would never say it out loud.

“You’re probably the baddest liar out there. Your cheeks are red as hell, (y/n)”, Sanemi comments dryly.

You don’t dare to move when he stretches out his hand. Enough to gently caress your cheek, enough to cause an explosion in your stomach.

Did Sanemi just touch you? Tenderly?

“I…N-no…I…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, you are too distracted to care about something like words. Slowly but surely, he draws closer with his perfectly formed chest exposed to your hungry eyes.

“(y/n), I…There’s actually something I wanted…Well…Fuck!”

Is that really Sanemi Shinazugawa, stumbling over his own words? And why is it him who’s blushing at the moment?

These past few months made it really easy for you to actually respect the wind hashira. Not only his frightful skills when handling the sword, but just him. Him, when he’s brushing the fur of the cat that visits his estate from time to time. Him, when he tucks you into your blanket when assuming you’re already asleep. Him, when checking on you in his own unique way.

How ridiculous to even think about him like that, to even allow your heart to jump up and down in joy. But you can’t help yourself. Despite the way you despised him when the two of you first met, you really started to love this man with all your heart.

“(y/n), you’re a pretty decent women”, he begins again while drawing closer.

“Well, I…Thank you?”

A decent woman? Is that what he thinks about you?

“I still can’t believe you lied to me about being a girl, though”, he barks at you.

Oh.

You hate the way your heart drops. Were you really dumb enough so think he might have something to say, that he might tell you he has feelings for you as well? How ridiculous, how absolutely dumb.

“I think I should get going. It’s been a long day”, you mumble.

It’s probably the best to get away from here as soon as possible. But just when you start moving towards the shore, his hand grabs your arm tightly and twirls you around.

Right against his bare chest.

“Don’t you dare leaving now, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I…there’s something I wanna tell you…”

“Why are you acting like a child?”, you finally spit at him yourself.

Oh, you’re having enough of all those ups and downs. Especially today, when you’re totally drained out already. You really don’t have the nerve for him to pick on you again, not when his last statement lies like a heavy stone in your stomach-

“Acting like a child?”, he challenges you.

Just before his lips crash into yours.

Longingly, Sanemi wraps his strong arms around you, devours you against his body while all you’re able to do is holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

This…is really happening, right? This is really Sanemi, pressing his lips against yours over and over again while your naked skin brushes against his?

“You’re fucking driving me insane, brat”, he mumbles against your lips before grabbing you even tighter.

“Since the moment I realized you aren’t a boy.”

He grabs you by your waist firmly, your naked skin rubbing against his sixpack almost making you lose everything that’s left of your self-control.

“I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your hands wander around his biceps, feel the deep valleys of his muscular back. God, this feels so good – almost too good to be true. But even if this is nothing but a dream, you’ll enjoy every minor movement, every sweet moment until you open your eyes again.

But when you do, you don’t find yourself in the comforting darkness of your room. No, his eyes glimmer like molten iron when staring down at you in the moonlight, his hot breath brushing against your wet face so seductive that you threaten to lose your balance.

“Still saying I’m acting like a child, brat?”

[abbyslovergirlxo]

Same Damn Time

Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader x Ambessa Medarda

tw; Dom!Ambessa, Dom!Caitlyn, sub!reader, rough sex but they’re not so mean towards the end, wlw, sadism (cait/bessa), choking, slapping (everywhere lol), knife usage, blood kink??,masochism (you🫵) , crying, reader has a mouth on her and then folds (typical😒), idk why i made cait psychotic but oh well, oral, degradation, crumbs of praise lmao, ALL SEXUAL INTERACTION IS CONSENSUAL, I am not someone who writes noncon

Word count: 7.8k

… = time skip

a/n; whewww! like what can I even say, this fic is crazy asl. Like I actually think they’re gonna bring back stoning people just for this. Lowkey deserved. But I know there’s someone out there who’s gonna match my freak 😭 i had tooo much fun writing this while listening to the song, made me think of them 😩lots of tw!! so plz read that before scrolling!!! I feel like this is something you’re either really going to love or really going to hate sooo idk. Also I was literally fixated on Sevika/Ambessa and one edit drove me to madness so here we are, getting double teamed by Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda 😩 They’re both evil twins in this but Caitlyn is the more evil twin but no seriously read the tw…. anyways enough of my my rumbling, this fic is long enough lol.

Your ear shot up, body reacting involuntarily to the large grey door opening. Heavy echoing footsteps, hushed whispers, and then a closed door.

“ This is the one?”

The judgemental tone would’ve sent you spiralling, had you been anywhere else. But menacing glares and sharp words would do little for you here. The lights were dim, unfavorably so, only illuminating distinctly right above your chair that you sat in.

Their voices held unyielding authority. Everyone from topside did to be fair but something about these two gave away their status. Their faces were shielded slightly, your eyes squinting in an attempt to see who they were. That attempt was shot down, the small space of darkness they stood in protecting them.

You cursed yourself for not having been smarter that day, faster. For if you had been, you’d never know what the inside of Stillwater’s interrogation room looked like.

“ Yes, General. My enforcers found her near one of Jinx’s old hideouts. From the items that were taken from her we can safely say this one knows something. She knows Jinx. My men attempted to speak to her a couple of days ago but nothing came of it.”

You thought back to the ‘men’ who questioned you, hammered you with prompts that you refused to answer. The bruises on your back proved how badly they wanted to know but you never relented.

“ I don’t know anything.” A lie. A clear one. Both of the women ignored you, tossing back and forth bits of information. You tugged at the shiny metal cuffs, now wishing you’d taken Vi up on those lock picking lessons. I’m so fucked, you thought to yourself. The room was a bit cold and you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion when they snatched you. So, somberly you shook a little, giving up on listening to whatever they were saying.

You weren’t going to rat. You knew that much.

Your head was hung when you heard them get closer to you. Not bothering to look up, you heard two chairs groan from being pulled, until they sat down from what you assumed.

“ Name?”

Finally you peered up. Your expression faltered for a second, not expecting the sight in front of you. Their outfits clashed and blended seamlessly all at once. One sat in an all black attire, her long blue hair hanging down. The other was engrossed in clads of gold and red.

Sitting right across from you, they both had menacing glares. Well, the glares you expected. Not quite the faces. Shamefully you imagined seeing them somewhere else, maybe in The Last Drop? The younger, sharp features and pinched eyes, looked at you with a particularly hateful look. That didn’t bother you though, she was as intimidating as the drunk men you’d fought with in the undercity. Pretty though, you thought. The other one was a different story entirely.

She was tall, you could tell from how she towered even sitting down. Something about her was elegant. But she looked dangerous. Growing up it was quite necessary to assess who you could and couldn’t take on, and the moment your eyes locked with hers, you knew. The scars on her face also gave way to what she was capable of. She was a problem, even if her stare wasn’t as heinous as the woman beside her.

“ Name?” She pressed. Her voice was calm but she didn’t look like someone who didn’t know how to raise it.

“ I don’t know anything. I don’t even know who Jinx is.”

The blue haired girl scoffed, clearly unimpressed. Her companion remained analytical of you.

“ You’re a terrible liar.” Her voice came off unforgiving and brutal. You’d be lying (again) if you said you weren’t slightly offended. But you kept a neutral face, ignoring her.

“Listen, this doesn’t have to be rough. How this goes depends entirely on you, you choose. We know you know Jinx. We know that you know something. The information you have is quite important to me,”

The older woman paused for a split second, her stare unwavering and promising. She looked over to the younger one before looking back at you.

“ to us. So we’re leaving this room with something, I can assure you that. But I can also assure you that if you help us, we will help you.”

Her voice was smooth, like wine. Well according to what people say about wine, you’d never had it. She was firm in her words, almost as if she herself knew the power behind her promise. That would’ve reassured you had it not been for the fact that she was after your fucking friends.

You looked between the two of them again, assessing the scene in front of you over and over. You were unimpressed, if you were being honest, something you hadn’t been since these cuffs first touched your wrist. Sure, you could tell they meant business but this was futile as an interrogation tactic.

Good cop, bad cop?

While the older wasn’t exactly nice, you expected a missing eye, pulled nails and burnt skin. What you weren’t expecting was two, unfortunately attractive, topside pigs to do a century old method. If anything they should’ve switched, you thought to yourself.

Maybe then they’d get somewhere.

“ Still don’t know who Jinx is or why I’m here.”

“ You’re lying, again. And protecting a known fanatic and criminal. Tell us where we can find Jinx.”

You furrowed your brows, annoyed with her insults and claims. Who is she to tell you that were lying? Well, you were of course. But regardless, the tone in the blue eyed woman before you made you unsettled.

“ I’m not lying.” You gritted out. “ I’ve been detained wrongfully. You’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything.”

“ Yes, you do.” Her voice was firm, final. You scowled at her, but it was nothing in comparison to how she looked at you. Constantly her jaw flexed, on edge and angry. But she had no right to be angry in your mind, after all you were the one chained to a table being talked at rather than talked to. Secretly you wished for the older woman to speak again, at least she wasn’t such a bitch.

“ Are they your friends? Is that it? Because I promise you that we will find Jinx, it will just be a whole lot messier without your help. I don’t mind that. But I’m sure you will.”

You fought the urge to wipe that domineering tone and look off her face. You’re never going to find Jinx! You’re nothing but a power hungry topsider who doesn’t know the first thing about friends! I’m not telling you shit. Was what you wanted to say. But instead,

“ I don’t know Jinx or whatever else you people plan on asking me. Like I said, you. are. wasting. your. time.”

You put emphasis on each word, tired of repeating yourself. But to your un-satisfaction she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“ Look… I shouldn’t be here. I can’t give you anything because I don’t kno—“

“ Right.” She cut you off, so obviously tired of your insistent lying, even in the short minutes. “And you’re not an undercity animal.”

“ And you’re not a topside pig.”

In all fairness it came out before you could stop it. You weren’t used to being talked to like this and keeping quiet, it almost came out of pure instinct. But if you were surprised by your words you didn’t show it one bit, a small smile almost playing on your lips.

Her nostrils flared slightly, her breathing elevating. For a moment you thought she’d explode before the other woman spoke.

“ Kiramman.”

You memorized the name, not sure if it’d be useful later once you escaped but just in case. She simply collected herself, nodding at the woman who she called ‘General’. Maybe this is where you went wrong, your natural element slipping out, your ego on its way to arriving.

“ You should learn to control yourself, ya know… during interrogations and such.”

“ Shut your mouth.” It was harsh and whispered. This is when you should’ve stopped but you didn’t.

“ You must be new, since you need a supervisor to help you.”

“ Shut it.”

“ You guys have nothing on me. You’re fucking desperate. I’m n—“

Mistakenly you were so focused on Kiramman that you hadn’t been prepared for the harsh grab of your chin. It was quick, unbelievably fast and that scared you more than anything. The strength of which she used to crush your face also attributed to the pit in your stomach.

“ You’ve chosen miserably.”

Her voice was meaner now, she talked as if you were nothing. Like you were stupid. Instantly you regretted wishing for her presence.

Embarrassingly you struggled against her trying to pry away but it was useless. She effortlessly held you there, your cheeks red with humiliation and anger. You tried to ignore the victorious face planted on Kiramman.

“ She said shut your mouth so you shouldn’t be doing anything but that.”

“ Thought you w-wanted me to talk, which one is it?”

You half expected her to break your jaw or lash out like the woman beside her. Instead she remained calm, eerily calm. Anyone with such strength and patience was someone who got what they wanted. But, you weren’t going to talk, you reminded yourself.

She pulled you closer, not without the rebellious tug from you. Silently she analyzed you, staring into your eyes painstakingly long. You squirmed and averted your gaze. She let you go with a ‘hmph’.

“ She won’t talk, not like this.”

The blue haired girl whipped her head towards her, then back to you, a blue fire blazing in her eyes. From the short time they’d been in the room it was clear the older woman held a higher position, authority oozing from her undoubtedly. But now you noticed something dark about the Kiramman that you should have picked up on before.

She was angry, unreasonably so. There was something constantly threatening to set off inside of her.

“ Everyone talks. There has to be something that’ll make her.”

The General hummed. “ I agree, but not like this. She’s loyal to them and she’s prepared for a cell if not this. She’s attempting to use our anger to distract us. She needs something else.”

The goosebumps from the cold air became accompanied by ones born from anxiety. Your mind went into a dark place, worried you’d never leave Stillwater. What if they starved you? Kept you locked in some cell as your body slowly decayed while you still lived? True fear found its way to you for the first time, the unknown overwhelming.

Kiramman seemed to hold back a sigh, instead taking a moment to actually listen to her superior's words. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking but from the firm nod she let off to the General, you knew it wasn’t in your favor. The grey haired woman stood now, making your heart race. Desperately you tugged at the chain once more, attempting to repeat your overdone line.

“ Look, I really don’t know anything.” Ignored.

The blue haired girl remained seated, leaned back slightly, watching silently as the older woman walked around the table. She walked to you with a certain prowess about her. She was taller than you’d expected, to your dismay. You refused to look at her when she was finally standing beside you, face aimed at the grey table.

You pinched your eyes waiting to be hit, choked maybe, or stabbed if they didn’t mind the mess. Your breathing raised as you tried to silently comfort yourself through whatever pain soon awaited. You held back a flinch when you felt large hands pulling at your chains.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Fuck.

*clink*

You snapped your eyes open, seeing your handcuffs now undone.

“ Stand up.”

You took in a breath, silently grateful that you hadn’t been harmed. You stood now, relieved. At least whatever they were going to do wasn’t happening in the now you thought. You looked towards the giant closed metal door, expecting your arm to be snatched as she led you to your dark cell. But to your surprise she simply spoke again.

“ On the table.”

You looked between the two of them.

You shook your head, not even at them, it just shook. No way in hell were you going to lay down on some metal table while these two psychopaths did whatever they wanted to you. You weren’t exactly happy about the bruises that already resided there, definitely not hoping for extras.

“ …No.”

You hadn’t wished to say it but you couldn’t bring yourself to willingly place your body on that table before they hurt you.

“ You misunderstand the situation. You’ve chosen already. So get on the table.”

You didn’t choose shit. That’s what you wanted to shout, to scream at them until your bones betrayed you. A million emotions rushed through your head, clenching and unclenching your hands. Instead you remained silent and unmoving, your refusal to acknowledge was saying ‘no’ in its own way.

“ Fucking impossible…”

You didn’t even have a moment to react to the words before you were pulled. A grunt left your mouth as your hair was gripped painfully. Anger coursed through you upon seeing the black uniform in your peripheral. You used your now free hands to try and pry her hands from you but she only gripped impossibly tighter, your scalp beginning to burn. She was swifter than you’d imagined she’d be, strong too, grabbing both of your hands with one, pinning them. This somehow was worse than cuffs.

“ Fucki— let me go!”

Ignored. Why did they ignore everything?

“ Where do you want her?”

Her General's eyebrows raised, but you didn’t see surprise. Not even disappointment. Content, maybe? You didn’t put it past her.

“ Let's put her on her back to start.”

She moved without question or affirmation. Irritation was clear across your face now, upset at the stinging that wasn’t letting up on your scalp. But clearly the woman behind you didn’t care, roughly forcing you onto the table. She wasn’t as tall as her companion but she was taller than you and it wasn’t an advantage on your part. The force behind her movements were unsettling, you hadn’t thought she was powerless at first glance, but her grip on you was unnerving compared to what you thought she was capable of.

The cold metal wasn’t welcoming. It felt like a million needles were puncturing your skin causing you to shudder. Your tank top strap had fallen off your shoulder amidst the struggle, close enough to slipping down making you wish your hands were free.

“ Give me her wrist.”

They swiftly transferred your hands, the Generals grip matching hers but you could tell there was more strength to be given behind it. You didn’t want to imagine her really trying to squeeze you. The cuffs you were free from moments ago encased you again, and you didn't miss the two extra notches she clicked causing your bone to shift uncomfortably with the metal. You scowled.

“ It’s too fucking tight.”

Not even a pitied glance, nothing. Ignored. Again. You shifted your wrist again, overwhelmed and upset. And this bitch is still gripping my hair, using her other hand to keep your shoulder on the table casually. So easily, and that made you feel vulnerable, helpless. And your now restrained hands weren’t helping, the slight burn making something in your throat want to creep up but you wouldn’t dare allow it, deciding to instead take it out on them.

“ Let go of my hair, you bi–”

You hissed, the stinging sensation pulsating across your cheek. It wouldn’t leave a bruise but you damn sure felt it.

“ Mind your tongue.”

The General ignored the glare you sent her straight from hell, instead taking off her jacket revealing a dark sleeveless sort of top. You couldn’t begin to imagine or decipher the detailing of it, topsiders always dressed too flashy in your opinion, too stuck up. Her arms were as big as you'd thought. Both being ridiculed with scars.

Then, another sharp crack resounded through the dark room, a quick punishing tug to your scalp. This one would unfortunately leave a bruise. You could tell. You didn’t hiss this time, too stunned, on the verge of groaning from the way she used your hair as a plaything.

“ What she said.”

Kiramman finally let go of your hair, the residue of her strength still pounding through your head. You tried to sit up but she instead used both of her hands to hold you down. With only your legs to move, you kicked but the General shut that down as soon as it started. Effortlessly she used only one hand to keep them pinned down, now looking over you and at Kiramman.

What now? You thought. Cut my skin until I fess up? Break my bones until I don’t have any? Beat me bloody while I lie on this cold table? Are they going to kill me when this is all over, when I don’t say anything? I’m going to die here, aren’t I? I’m going to die and nobody’s gonna know.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it.

Eyes suddenly squeezed shut, recited echoes of wishful thinking, a scratchy throat. You braced yourself.

“ Last chance. Tell us where we can find Jinx and I’ll send you back to your cell. Untouched.”

Your voice came out a little exasperated, anxiety and anger laced into it. You kept your eyes shut.

“ I don’t know who Jinx is so I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything.”

Your shoulder crushed more into the table, pale hands squeezing.

“ You continue to choose stupidity, insolence. No more of that.”

Suddenly the grip on your legs were let go and you opened your eyes. She was still at the head of the table staring down at you. For a moment you considered kicking again but as if she read your mind…

“ Kick me and I will break every bone in your knee.”

Her tone wasn’t intimidating, demeaning absolutely, but not intimidating. The certainty in her voice made you throw away any ideas of using your legs. You liked your knees to say the least. You peered straight up to see an upside version of Kiramman, her long blue hair creating a shadow around her neck, her jawline distinct. Even without seeing her face, only the outline of lips and nose, the anger radiated off her body.

“ What now?”

The General looked over you, straight at her.

“ We’ll need to take her pants off for the next part.”

You and Kiramman spoke at the same time.

“ Wait, what? My pants?” “ Her pants?”

The older woman simply gave a one word reply, meant to supply both of you with a firm answer, ‘yes’.

“ Wait, wait.”

She looked down at you, eyebrows raised.

“ Do you remember something about Jinx? Something you’d like to tell us?”

You listened to the flickering sound coming from the light above you. One by one you let them pop into your head. Jinx, long blue hair and wild face as she hugged you. Vi, stuffing her favorite foodsin your face. Isha, making paper airplanes with you. For a moment you thought a tear might slip but it didn’t. You drew in a shaky breath, ignoring the sting on your wrist.

“ No. I don’t know anything. I just…”

You averted your gaze.

“ Is it going to hurt?”

A stupid question in your mind. No doubt torture hurts. But something in you needed to ask, needing some sort of certainty in what was to come.

“ That depends on you entirely. I’ll give you pain when you give me insolence. But when you give me answers, I’ll give you… ”

She suddenly ghosted a hand over your calf.

“ Relief.”

You shuddered a little, her graze unexpected. But you didn’t dare move your leg, not wanting to test what qualified as a kick to her. You didn’t want to imagine what she meant by relief, because it couldn’t mean that. It couldn’t mean that.

“ How does that sound?”

“ It sounds like I have nothing else to say to you.”

She hummed. Without another word she slipped her large hands in your waistband, pulling them down to your ankles. You wanted them back the second your bare thigh touched the cold metal. A click echoed and you looked to see a blade in her hand, small in size but formidable in design. Gold snakes seemed to embroider its handle. You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight, your eyes locked on it.

Your eyes flicked up at the blue haired woman, her position now changed so that you could see her face again. Her eyes almost beamed? For the first time an expression other than anger displayed itself on her features. Now she looked almost… pleased. Excited.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. Hopefully.

You ignored the last words, watching as the General kept her eyes trained on your plump thighs. Opening them, she traced it right on the inside of it. Immediately you could tell it was sharp. Too sharp. It was cold against your skin, not as harsh as the table but unforgiving nonetheless. Anticipation rushed through you. Hands clenched within its restraints, the light flickering and flickering, her soft hands on your shoulder, icy metal on your skin, her hand slipping onto your thigh and then….

“ Ngnh!”

Your head pressed into the metal slightly. You’d have been embarrassed by your whimper if it wasn’t for the sudden warm drip down your thigh. Blood, you assumed. You’d been through worse but you still squirmed at the cut now adorned on your skin. She pushed down on your thigh, not fond of your squirming. Then she continued, tracing the blade across your thigh, waiting until your body finally relaxed, stopping itself from that state of bracing. And right when you did, she’d swipe a quick line across your shaky, burning legs. Always between your thighs, always.

It felt like electricity was rushing through you, it was all so overwhelming. You felt like you were being swallowed alive and they had barely done anything. The cuts burned and sent a rush of pain through your nerves and skin. Everytime you looked at Kiramman her face was becoming alive with intoxication. It’s like she couldn’t pull her eyes away, trained on the way your leg wobbled under her General’s hand, how you whimpered lowly, the light trace of blood on the expensive blade. You jolted again, particularly harder this time.

“ Relax. It's just a little cut, you're a big girl.”

It continued like this. You tried your best to stifle the whimpers coming from your mouth. The last thing you wanted was for them to hear what they were doing to you. Over and over she painted your thighs with your own crimson, and it hurt. It hurt, it did. And that's all it should be.

But your stomach kept getting that feeling. It burned, like the surface level cuts she gave you. It burned every time her calloused finger swiped across your sliced skin, collecting blood. It burned when she smiled suddenly, as if proud of her work. And it was scalding when you looked up and saw those blue eyes entranced. But it wasn’t pain. It wasn’t…anger. It was something else. Something that made you want to release that feeling in your throat, made you wish she meant something ungodly when she offered relief.

“ What's this?”

Your skin was hot to the touch now, sweaty. Trembling slightly, you looked up at her. For a moment you couldn’t begin to imagine what she was referring to until you traced her eyes. You silently prayed that it wasn’t what you thought. But from the way she asked, you knew.

“ What is it?”

Kiramman asked, curiosity clear in her voice. The older woman smirked, staring down at the wet spot in your panties.

“ It seems her body is more honest than she is. I think our little prisoner likes this. Her panties say so at least.”

Your face burned so hot that it rivaled the sun itself. You considered saying something, protesting and denying it. But what was the point? It did feel good, the burn felt good. And she had the evidence right in front of her. You couldn’t meet either of their gazes, looking to the side in shame. Kiramman laughed, the vibrations reaching you through her touch.

“ I knew it, she was whimpering like a dog. Isn’t that right?”

You shook your head, still refusing to look. But she wasn’t having it, using one of her hands to pull your chin. Even upside down, she looked menacing. She forced eye contact. Her face was rampant with mocking undertones, sadistic glares.

“ Is that why you’ve been so rude? You wanted us to give you a little pain, show you a good time? You really are pathetic.”

“ That’s not tr– n-ngh!”

A stinging pain after a quick slap to your clothed cunt made you whimper louder than anytime the blade touched you. It felt like a live wire tapping your skin, your legs snapping shut. The wet spot in your panties grew, your breathing uneven.

“ Insolence. Tell the truth.”

I can’t. You thought. Telling them that you’d enjoyed it, even a tiny bit, seemed more daunting suddenly than ratting.

“ I’m not ly– f-fuck…”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to finish a sentence, her hand opening your legs followed by another slap coming down. Your eyes fluttered for a moment, your face squeezing with pain and pleasure. Kiramman used the hand she never removed to guide you. A smile was now on her lips, wide with genuine amusement.

“ Oh god, did you just… moan? You really are something aren’t you? Is that what it’s going to take? A few more slaps to your cunt and you’ll be blabbering? Or maybe…”

She lowered herself, close enough that her hair brushed against your face. You whined again, another unsuspecting smack from the older woman. You hadn’t even done anything, she just liked the way your panties got damper with each hit. Kiramman almost thanked her for it, relishing in hearing the noise even closer. She whispered to you.

“ If I make you cum enough times you’ll remember something. I bet you’d like that, letting a… what was it that you called me…a topside pig make your cunt cry?”

Finally, you gave way to the ache in your throat. A tear fell down your face suddenly. Another burning sensation forming in your stomach at the feeling of the General toying with the rim of your panties.

“ Please…”

It was quiet, almost matching the decibels of the wind. But you knew she’d heard it. It was obvious from how her grin widened, her eyes looking like ones of a deranged woman.

“ Please what? Please…make me cum? Please…let me go? Please fucking what?”

In this small moment of time, you almost felt like you were watching your dignity physically leave your body. You imagined telling her to let you go, that you didn’t know anything and a few cuts to your legs wasn’t going to change that. And you considered it, over and over. Then something played in your mind, a sick fantasy woven in desperation. In it, you asked her what you really wanted to. And in it they kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, made you finish until you didn’t know how to walk. You considered both. But only one of them made your core ache with desire. Your eyes were even glossier now. Suddenly you were working yourself up for a new kind of courage.

I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.

“ Make me cum please.”

“ Please who?”

I can take it.

“ Please, Kiramman.”

“ That’s it. Finally something coming out of your mouth other than horseshit. But you still need some manners…”

The grip that had left your ears ringing suddenly came back, her pale fingers peeking through your hair. She pulled your head up, forcing you to look at the General. You groaned, arms thrashing slightly, the sting of the metal never relenting.

“ I’m not the only one here. Go ahead, ask General Merdarda too.”

You gritted your teeth. This was already humiliating, and she was just reveling in it. Your legs were already spread, panties damp, dried crimson on your skin, hands bound above your stomach. You’d already asked, multiple times. And now you had to say it again, with a death-like grip on your hair and those hazel eyes peering at you, awaiting.

“ …but I already asked y—“

The slap was even stronger this time , the force of it driving your body insane. Merdarda grinned at you, even laughing a little at the noise you made. Another tear fell down your cheek but Kiramman was quick to wipe it. Right before she licked her finger.

“ But you didn’t ask me.”

If she slapped your cunt again you’d probably start grinding against the table, somehow making you look more pathetic than you do right now. So you gave in.

“ P-Please General Merdarda, will…”

I’m never speaking about this if I get out of here.

“…Will you please make me cum?”

“ Well would you look at that, that’s all you had to say little one. But what do we get in return? Surely you can’t expect us to make you cum with nothing given back.”

“ …But…I already said I don’t know anything.”

Kiramman scoffed.

“ Even after you soak your panties from a little cut, you still have the ability to lie. I’m almost impressed.”

She let your head drop back onto the table.

“ Almost.”

….

For a second you thought she’d kiss them.

At first glance it seemed so, her soft lips trailed over the red raised wounds, her nose spilling cold air on them. You reveled in it, an ember threatening to go a blaze within you. That was until she nipped at it, a hiss leaving your mouth. You couldn’t see her smile but you felt it sweeping across the throbbing skin. You cursed under your breath, the force behind her bite growing more rabid. She slapped the thigh she wasn’t ravaging, quick and harsh.

“ You like that, don’t you?”

There that voice was again, smooth and sultry. You weren’t sure if she was referencing the strike on your leg or her roaming fingers but murmured yes anyway. Yes to all of it. She had your shirt hitched up, breast exposed. Every once and awhile she’d toy with them, trace an outline around your nipple, wait and then pinch. So often though she found herself distracted, your features giving away how desperate you were.

Merdarda found enjoyment in watching your contort every time Kiramman did something to you, anything to you really. You were like a tight coiled spring, threatening to snap at any given moment. It's like every touch has you ready to risk everything. And you learned quickly they were into this a little more than you, mania clear across their faces. You were trembling, Kiramman taking advantage of how sensitive your legs were.

“ C’mere.”

You felt a little dizzy, seeing her lift her head up from between your legs. She grabbed your cuffed hands, pulling you up to meet her face. It all happened so fast and you winced from the strain in your shoulders. She was closer now and it was just now that you noticed the traces of blood on her lips. You hadn’t expected a kiss this time around, but it happened. It wasn’t gentle, if anything it felt like she was trying to cannibalize you with her tongue. Shamefully you pushed against her, sick to your stomach at how good she tasted. Hints of copper on your tastebuds, her wandering hands. She pulled back, being sure to bite your lip before doing so.

“ You taste that? It’s you.”

She dropped her eyes to your thighs, licking over her lips once more. A trance almost seemed to describe the hunger behind her stare, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care either way, you just wanted her to do whatever was on her mind to you and soon.

“ fucking delicious.”

The whispered lust in her voice rivaled the reaction brought out from Medardas heavy hands.

“ You should taste her General. She’s sweeter than that filthy mouth of hers.”

Wordlessly, she captured your lips next. Her movements were more experienced, methodical and you felt as though you melted into her due to it. Ruby lipstick smeared onto you, a groan slipping from her as she made sure to taste everything you had to offer. The metallic tinge on her tongue made her pull in deeper. You whimpered, dizzy from lack of breath and insatiable roaming hands.By the time she pulled away your eyes were low, an unfocused look about you.

“ I wonder if her cunt tastes even better.”

Kiramman smiled sickly to herself, her gapped teeth giving you a warm tinge to your cheek.

“ We’ll know soon enough.”

….

Your wrist were nearly rubbed raw with all the thrashing you were doing. Time and time again you made attempts to close those abused legs of yours, in hopes of protecting your cunt. Unfortunately, Kiramman wasn’t pleased and she slapped it raw until you cried enough apologies. She mumbled something along the lines of ‘can’t be stupid and greedy’. But you somehow continued to be prove to be both, whining endlessly about the torture of her tongue. She never let up though, only unlatching from you to say obscene things or mark up your poor legs.

It seemed the pair held similar views, sick desires. Medarda would litter your neck and breast with purple marks shamelessly. She smelled of some expensive plant you’d never heard of, all you knew was that it made you whimper everytime her skin was pressed onto yours. She’d whisper siren-like words to you, etched in sin, rough kisses between them all. And yet you drank them into your ears like milk and honey.

“ You just came, didn’t you? Nasty girl.”

“ Do you remember anything now, hm?”

“ Don’t be so dramatic, keep your legs open for her.”

“ You must spread yourself open often. You’re a natural.”

“ Your cunts almost as noisy as you, dear.”

And when her tongue wasn’t making you drip onto the table, Kirammans words were just as wicked, if not more. Her posh accent was a coverup for all the nefarious things laced into it. A very, very poor coverup.

“ I said— keep. them. open. Unless you need a second pair of cuffs? … No? Then fucking listen.”

“ Go on, you can cry. I know it feels good. Yes filthy girl…just like that. ”

“ You’ve made a mess. Say you're sorry.”

“ Quit it, you can get a break when you remember something.”

“ Don’t act so sweet now— had quite a lot to say earlier. Isn’t that right?”

This was wrong, every bit of it. There was nothing exactly right about two high ranking officers of Piltover and Noxus eating you alive in the depths of Stillwater. The thought alone should send you running. It should have you drinking hot flashes of anger, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. But it didn’t. It only made you spread your legs wider and beg shamefully for more kisses.

It all felt so good. They felt so good and a redeemable, rational part of you hated that. But every time rationality tried to sink itself into you, Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda were right there to sink into you faster. And by god, they made you feel more full than any morale.

You were so sure you were going to die before. And that thought that hadn’t been removed just yet, except now you thought you’d pass away from all the onslaught orgasms caused by the ravenous women beside and inside you.

“ a—angh! oh god…pl–please”

Kiramman held back a sly smile, seeing the way you twitched, body so sensitive. Her fingers were drenched with you, now gloveless. Initially her signature black gloves dug inside of you but the minute she tasted you she knew she didn’t want it anywhere but on her skin. Quite roughly, she had pulled three orgasms, somehow each one more intense than the last. But that wasn’t enough, not to them. Nothing was enough until those pretty lips whimpered something they could actually report back. And even then she wasn’t sure she’d want to stop.

“ Are you going to make a mess again for us?”

Pathetically, you fought back the white of your eyes before looking down at her. She couldn’t help but grip your thighs tighter at your teary face, nodding exhaustingly down at her. Medarda kept you slightly upright, your back arching into her bicep while she sucked on your breast. Honestly she hadn’t a clue how long she’d been at it but by the rate she was going you’d look a fucked out mosaic by the time they were done. She laughed to herself but you knew it was at you. And that fact only made you rut against the table more.

“ This is going to be your fourth one dear. We’re never going to leave this room if you keep being so stubborn.”

She trailed her kisses up your chest. A peck here and a peck there. The slow ascend of her affections compared to the rapid thrust of the others fingers made you bite your lip, the skin pulling between your teeth. By the time she was up to your ear you were practically panting.

“ Or is that what you want? For us to keep making you cry until you can’t anymore?”

They’d never know it and thank god for that but you almost whispered a yes.

Kiramman couldn’t hear what was spoken but she definitely felt it. You clenched around her even harder, a long mewl spilling from you. She creased her blue brows slightly as she sped up her fingers, making sure to never be gentle with that special spot, secretly itching to hear just how loud you could get whenever you came. Her counterpart was just as wanting for it out of you, a more balanced desire about her. Even in spite of the way she pulled you in for another kiss when she heard you sob, “ ‘m s-so close..”

This time Kiramman both felt and heard it, her fingers happily accepting the tight squeeze of you. She latched back onto your clit which was practically begging to be consumed again, if you asked her. Immediately you tensed, using every ounce of self restraint to not slam her cheeks with your legs. It also got devastatingly hard to keep up with Medarda’s mouth, she pressed into you like she forgot you needed air, like you only needed them. And as the coil in your belly grew and the sloppy sounds of her eating away filled the room, you did need them.

A muffled moan ricocheted into Merdarda and she invited it wholeheartedly. When she finally pulled away, you used your bound hands to grab at her hand groping you. You squeezed it the second you felt Kiramman offer a grunt inside of your cunt. She licked you like she was rabid, lost in whatever drugs your pussy clearly had laced in it. Merdarda found it all so nasty, so amusing. Seeing the renowned Caitlyn Kiramman so cruel but so feral, and you with your slick mouth gone and lips swollen, made her clench around nothing.

Even if nobody in the room spoke it, you were all enjoying this ‘interrogation’ a little too much. That manic laughter that constantly filled Kirammans head, those stupid pigtails and flashy gadgets, had even subsided for a moment. She still wanted nothing more than to rip that smile off her face, but the way the tears journeyed down your face so easily made her want something more.

Right now all she wanted was for you to cum on her face, and she nearly keeled over when she finally heard you sing that song for her. A moan that could only be replicated in the best whorehouses of Zaun left you. The pair both smiled the moment they heard you whimper what they already knew.

“ i th—‘m gonn—“

You could barely manage a single word, back practically ingraining itself in her arm the way you arched over it.

“ Let it out, make a mess.”

Your body truly was more honest than you and clearly obedient because the second she said it you did. Your self restraint abandoned you, left you on that table shaking and crying. Your bruised legs kissed her cheeks (not so gently) as she ate and thrusted at the same pace she did before, never letting up. Even with your legs shaking and around her she just drove in deeper. The pleasure slipped into overdrive making you shake your head, trying your best to pull away, use your hands, anything to make her stop. But Merdarda snatched your cuffed hands.

“ kira—kirammannn!”

Wow, that’s the only time she’s heard her last name and wanted to hear it more. But she ignored you, knowing you were begging for her to stop. By now your legs had dropped, too weak to hold up. Your whole body practically vibrated as you lost your breath. Maybe it was the burning sensation ripping through you or the cotton in your head but you stupidly turned your head to look up at Medarda.

“ help…me…gonna fu— die!”

First she looked at you, toyed with your nipple as your hands fought against hers. So pretty and so pathetic, she thought. Then looked down at Kiramman, whose eyes now opened and met hers. An amused glint was in her blue tinted stare and suddenly Medarda couldn’t think of a single reason she’d help you.

“ She’s eating child, don’t be so rude. Have some manners.”

She was looking at you when she said it, but from the mockery in her tone you knew it was meant for more than just you. And it was confirmed when a smile traced itself onto your throbbing cunt. But it quickly went away. She was eating after all.

“ i canttt! pleasee!”

Kiramman didn’t stop until you went silent, unable to speak, inconsistent babbles of nonsense here and there. You weren’t even shaking now, just twitching and breathing like the oxygen in the room had been sucked out. When she finally got up from between your legs she couldn’t help herself and gave two quick bites. A strangle mix of a hiss and moan could be heard as you watched her stand. She lifted her fingers to your mouth, shoving them inside.

You expected her to be rough and jam them down your throat but to your surprise she simply swirled them around your mouth. Despite that voice in your head you sucked at them tiredly hoping to please them. And pleased they were. They both watched as you weakly licked her fingers clean. By the time she pulled away they both knew that previous orgasm just couldn’t be the last.

“ Do you remember anything now?”

You were fucked out, but not that fucked out.

“…no”

Thank god, they both thought in unison.

“ I guess it’s my turn then.”

…

BONUS

Kiramman walked with pure candor on her face. She heard the whispers as she walked past but she ignored them. What was the point in entertaining fools? Besides, the moment her eyes met theirs they always went silent. Always. Today hadn’t been the best day for her. Most days weren’t, hunting for that psycho and her friends wasn’t an easy job or a fun one. But she wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Well…maybe someone else…

“ Don’t let anyone in.”

The guard nodded dutifully.

By the time she reached the room, she was already imagining her sweet song. She didn’t have to wait long to hear it in person because it was practically blasting throughout the room the moment the door opened. She closed the door behind her, smiling deviously as she placed her heavy cape onto the chair.

“ She’s even wetter today, if you can believe it.”

She laughed softly, “ Oh I can believe it. How many has she got so far?”

“ Just two. Don’t worry, you didn’t take too long.”

“ God, I know. I got caught up with that fool Salo.”

Medarda laughed now, knowing all too well how annoying he could be.

“ medardaaa”

Your toes curled, struggling to handle the two large fingers inside of you. Both were devastatingly skilled with their fingers but hers were undoubtedly bigger. Way bigger. And if the size wasn’t agonizing enough, she was hitting that spot over and over. This time your hands were free, and you used them to grip her bicep.

Suddenly your throat had a new necklace. Not a very nice one. She squeezed her free hand around your throat, speeding her fingers. Clearly she wasn’t a fan of your interruption, despite the way her cunt ached when she heard her name in such a filthy way.

“ Can’t you see us talking? And you didn’t even greet your Commander. She came all this way to see you.”

You thought you were going to pass out, the squelching sounds and sultry insults becoming distant. Your mind and body gave into her once the resisting clearly wasn’t doing anything. And you loved it. Each filthy posh coated word, lingering touch, rushed collided lips left you undone. The strength behind their hands made you want to never be without it. And for the past two weeks it continued to, leaving you right here in this room on this desk, unable to breath, only able to cry and spread your legs wider.

Medarda let go, allowing Kiramman to finally slip beside you. As much as she loved the song you offered, she wanted your lips. You gasped into her, them giving you no time to actually catch a breath between the transfer. Lightheaded, you still pushed against her, wetness dripping from your face to hers. She pulled away, licked the rogue tear from the corner of your mouth.

By the time she was looking at you, you were heaving, clasping onto her bicep instead of Medardas now. She watched with such marvel as your face contorted into those beautiful expressions, such a drastic difference from the stupid girl she interrogated. Logically she knew she couldn’t call what all of you were doing an interrogation. So she opted to saying ‘some investigating work’ the few times someone inquired about her abrupt departures. It wasn’t a complete lie, her and Medarda were investigating something every couple of days. your cunt

Her gaze traced to the brown fingers moving in and out of you, then to glisten on her General's hand and finally to your thighs. They were healing nicely. Unfortunately for her they wouldn’t leave a scar according to the doctor she took you to. She almost frowned at the thought.

But then she heard you whisper a quick, “ h-hi Kiramman…”

She smiled at you, a warm thought coming to her.

“ Hi, filthy girl.”

We’ll make sure they scar next time.

P.s. They had the officers who beat you killed 😜

[hsnlv]

adorably mine! | l.hs

pairing: idol husband!heeseung x wife!reader

synopsis: heeseung’s been acting weirdly clingy lately, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why—he’s jealous. all because of one little comment about jungwon being cute. now you’re stuck dealing with a sulky, dramatic husband who won’t stop clinging to you.

warning: heeseung is in enhypen (no duh), mention of jungwon (idk if that needs a warning lmaoaoao), teeth-rotting fluff!, heeseung is superrrrrrr clingyyy and jealous and pouty and it’s sooo cute!!!

wc: 949

here’s my masterlist!

the way heeseung had been acting lately was enough to both frustrate you and make your heart swell at the same time. as much as you loved your affectionate, doting husband, his clinginess over the past few days had reached new heights—ones that were starting to seriously test your patience.

it had all started so innocently. a casual comment made during an outing with the rest of enhypen. you hadn’t even thought twice about it when you remarked how cute jungwon looked while practicing. after all, everyone knew you had a soft spot for adorable things, be it puppies, plushies, or jungwon’s leader energy.

but apparently, heeseung didn’t share your casual outlook.

the very moment the words left your lips, you noticed his head snap up, his usually soft brown eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at you. his lips had formed into the smallest pout, but you’d waved it off as a fleeting moment of jealousy.

if only you’d known what was coming.

𐙚🧸ྀི

it started with little things. like the way heeseung would suddenly hold your hand tighter whenever jungwon was around. or how he’d lean in closer than usual during conversations, as if he was trying to drown out the presence of anyone else. then, it escalated.

you’d never seen him quite like this.

“baby, can you please let go?” you asked, a mix of exasperation and fondness in your tone as you struggled to fold laundry. heeseung’s arms were snugly wrapped around your waist from behind, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder.

“no,” he murmured, voice low and firm as if his very life depended on staying glued to you. his breath tickled your neck as he pressed himself closer, and his grip tightened slightly. “i like it here.”

you sighed, your movements slowing as you turned your head slightly to glance at him. heeseung’s brown eyes met yours, wide and pleading, a spark of insecurity flickering in them that made your heart clench.

“are you seriously still hung up about what i said the other day?” you asked, voice softening.

he didn’t answer, but the way he pursed his lips said enough.

“baby,” you tried again, your tone half-scolding, half-affectionate. “i call everything cute. you’ve known me long enough to know that it doesn’t mean anything.”

“yeah, but…” he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t call me cute anymore.”

your heart practically broke at his words.

“oh, hee,” you cooed, gently prying his arms from your waist so you could turn and face him. “is that what this is about?”

heeseung shrugged, his pout deepening. his eyes dropped to the floor as he shuffled awkwardly, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

“it’s not fair,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at you from under his lashes. “you’re my wife. you’re supposed to think i’m the cutest.”

you bit back a laugh, not wanting to hurt his already fragile ego. instead, you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. his cheeks were tinged with a faint pink, and he looked more like a sulky child than the confident, charismatic performer the world knew him to be.

“lee heeseung,” you said firmly, though your lips twitched with a smile. “you are, without a doubt, the cutest man i’ve ever met. no one—and i mean no one—even comes close.”

“not even jungwon?” he asked, his tone still holding a hint of jealousy.

“not even jungwon,” you promised, leaning in to press a kiss to his nose.

heeseung’s pout wavered, and you could tell he was trying hard not to smile. but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he blurted out, “say it again.”

you blinked. “what?”

“that i’m cute,” he mumbled, his ears turning red.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter this time, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. “hee, you’re adorable. the cutest. the most precious. no one else even compares, okay?”

finally, his pout disappeared, replaced by a shy, satisfied grin. he leaned into your touch, his arms winding around your waist once more as he pulled you into his lap.

“you really mean it?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“of course, i mean it,” you replied, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

heeseung let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing lightly against your collarbone. but just as you thought he’d finally calmed down, you couldn’t resist one last tease.

“though, now that i think about it, jungwon is pretty cute…”

heeseung pulled back so fast you almost lost your balance.

“baby!” he whined, his cheeks puffing out in frustration. “stop saying that!”

you burst into laughter, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him back to you. “i’m kidding, hee. you’re the only guy i’ll ever want. no one else even stands a chance.”

he narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, but the way he melted back into your embrace betrayed his resolve. “you’re so mean,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

“and you’re so dramatic,” you shot back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

heeseung only hummed, a quiet, pleased sound that made your heart flutter. his hold on you tightened, as if he never wanted to let go, and you knew in that moment that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“i love you,” he murmured, his voice soft and genuine.

“i love you too,” you replied, resting your forehead against his.

and even though he’d surely find another reason to pout tomorrow, you knew you’d always have the upper hand—because heeseung was hopelessly, completely, head-over-heels in love with you.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2024

[illbegottenfaith]

kiss me better, love

as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (theo nott x reader)

a/n - valentines fic #2 !!!! thought of this idea in a class literally 5 hours ago and idk if its the sleep deprivation but this is sooo self-indulgent writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet frfr 😭 all I have to say is if this isnt me and my future partner I dont want him I send him BACK

tropes/warnings - physical touch as a love language, angry theo but also soft theo 🥰🥰 no (read: minimal) proof reading we die like men etc etc

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @ebriton @thaliashifts @friedfreyfries @allie-sturns

The door shuts behind you both, plunging the room into near-darkness. You barely take a step before bumping into Theo, your knee knocking against his thigh, your hands flying to his shoulders as you stumble.

"Merlin,” he mutters, steadying you with a grip at your waist. “Can you - ”

“You're the one barging into me,” you shoot back, tucking a lock behind your ear as you tighten your grip on Theo’s shoulder, making him wince.

“Anyway, like I was saying, it hasn’t even been a week since Missy - ”

Theo exhales sharply, blindly reaching for the zipper at your back. “Is this something I really need to be hearing right now?” he asks somewhat waspishly.

“Yes.” You barely register his tone, still preoccupied. “So I walk into Charms in Tuesday, expecting to find Josh understandably distraught and/or in mourning. But who do I see him chatting up instead?"

"Hair."

You gather your hair up in one hand to hold it up and go right on talking. You barely notice Theo's largely ineffective attempts at pushing your sleeves off your shoulders.

"Pansy Parkinson! Pansy flipping Parkinson. What, does he think he's a free man now or something? Melissa's halfway across the world, she's not dead."

"Mhm."

You sigh exaggeratedly at his lackluster responses.

“Well? Don't you have to anything to add?"

“Yeah - hold still.” You This is just ridiculous, Theo was thinking. What kind of dress needed buttons and a zip?

You huff, switching your hair to your other hand. “Honestly, Theo, have you listened to a single thing I’ve been saying the past hour?”

Theo groans, still fumbling at your lower back. He had figured out the buttons were decorative, bless him, but your dress was on the more delicate side, and if he ripped it, he'd never hear the end of it. “Uh, yeah, that Abernathy guy...he’s two-timing Melissa?"

“He is not,” you say, peering over your shoulder to see what was taking Theo so long. Seriously, what was going on back there? It doesn't help, though, not when you can barely make him out in the dark. “not yet at least. He might. And if he's going to, well, isn't it better she finds out now rather than ten years down the road? Or am I an awful friend for thinking that?"

"Thinking what?" Theo asks distractedly.

"Willing my best friend's boyfriend into cheating on her."

Before he can formulate a response, your stubborn zipper finally decides to cooperate and moves down an inch - snagging at his finger. A sharp hiss cuts through the dark, followed by some emphatic, muttered swearing.

You pause.

“…what was that?”

Theo slips his injured finger out of his mouth briefly, his voice strained as he struggles to keep the pain out of his tone. “Nothing.”

You shift slightly, trying to catch his expression in the dark, but he’s suspiciously still now, his hands nowhere on you anymore.

“Theo.”

“I’m fine.”

Your brow furrows. Then, his suddenly subdued demeanour and oddly neutral tone clicks in your head.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

There’s an immediate rustle, followed by Theo’s very delayed attempt at nonchalance.

“…no.”

Oh, you could throttle him. “Was it the zip again?”

“You keep saying that like I do it intentionally - I never mean to-”

“And now you're trying to suck the pain away like a child?”

“Would you rather I bleed all over your dress?”

“I’d rather you watch what you’re doing so you don’t get maimed by a bloody zip in the first place!”

Theo exhales sharply, his frustration palpable. “I keep telling you - I don't-”

“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"

Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”

“You don’t think before you do things.”

Theo groans. “I think plenty.”

“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“First, you burn yourself on my curling iron -”

“Okay, one, you shouldn't be leaving your things out like that.”

“Then you cut yourself opening a tin of biscuits -”

Theo tips his head back in exasperation. “You sh - you literally shoved it at me!”

“ - and now my zipper is out to get you?” You throw your hands up. “What are you telling me, Teddy? That every item I own has a personal vendetta against you?”

"Mattheo agrees with me, you know," you continue smugly, in a so-there kind of tone. "He told me about that time you nearly broke your neck falling down that flight of stairs on the way to Transfiguration, which wouldn't have happened if you weren't - "

"Rushing, I know." Theo steps back as if to escape. “Merlin, you are insufferable - ”

“And you are reckless.”

“I don't need you to lecture me.”

“You’d be fine if you just listened to m - show me your finger.”

A brief struggle ensues.

You lunge; he sidesteps. You fumble blindly for his hand; he twists out of reach.

“For fuck’s sake -”

“Stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, you’re being a menace.”

“At least I don't get mauled by zippers.”

“I'm telling you, that zipper has it out for me."

“Well, maybe if you weren’t always in such a bloody rus - ”

“Enough with the rushing!”

“I can't help it if you never learn - ”

“I do learn,” he snaps, stepping back further - only for you to grab onto his wrist and pull.

There’s a shuffle, a scuffle as Theo stumbles back into the dresser with a thud.

“Oi - ”

“Oh, stop squirming, you big baby.”

“You stop grabbing- ”

“Theodore, you are injured. Act like it.”

“I am n- ”

“Then give me your hand.”

A long, heavy pause. Then -

“No.”

You groan, exasperated. “Merlin, you are the most - ”

“And you are relentless - ”

But at last, in an impressive show of determination, you manage to latch onto his wrist, wrenching his hand towards you before he can twist away again. Theo groans in frustration, but you’ve already found the wound—his fingertip, warm and damp against yours.

“Oh, for - ” You tighten your grip as he tries to pull away. “You are bleeding!”

Theo tenses, his entire body bristling. “It’s nothing.”

“On my zipper,” you say incredulously. “Again.”

He exhales sharply as if this is somehow your fault. “You don’t need to make a whole production of it - ”

“I told you to be careful - ”

“And I was - ”

“Clearly not enough!”

Theo groans, tipping his head back against the dresser. “I’m buying you a tear-away dress next Valentine’s.”

You bite back a smirk. “I’d like to see you figure that one out.”

He mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re already bringing his hand up, brushing your lips over the wound.

He stills.

The fight, the irritation, the tension - all of it dissolves instantly under your touch.

You press another kiss there, softer this time. Through a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains, he sees your face - your impish expression, your eyes, alight with amusement and plain adoration. You watch his face too - his furrowed brows relaxing, the slight part of his lips, his sharp features softened by something indiscernible.

His eyes flick to yours.

And Merlin, it’s not fair, he thinks. It’s not fair how you can drive him to the brink of insanity one second and then look at him like that the next, like you could never get your fill. It's enough to make him think you're worth all the trouble you put him through. It's enough to make him want to slow down. Merlin knows the last thing he wants is to rush through his days with you.

“…better?” you murmur against his skin after a moment.

Theo exhales, rolling his eyes as though he isn’t already relenting. "It's a start," he says grudgingly.

Your smile widens as you bring his hand up again, pressing another kiss there, then another, then another.

Theo groans, tipping his head back again, his frustration dwindling with every sympathetic brush of your lips.

“You like this,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, but his voice has softened, his body relaxing into yours.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his wrist. Then his palm.

Theo groans again, for reasons unrelated to his earlier irritation, his fingers curling at your waist.

You laugh softly. “Want me to kiss you better everywhere?”

Theo smiles weakly, pulling you closer. “That's the best idea you've had all night."

[yawujin]

how the v3 boys would react to being called a 'pretty boy'

type | short-read , reaction , non killing game, lighthearted, fluff , gender neutral reader.

shuichi saihara ♡

he would be caught off guard

he would begin to smile and not be able to stop

that is, until he clears his throat to stop himself

you could still see his lips though

he looked so funny trying to hide his expression from you

"that's—" he would start, but give up and just let out an awkward laugh

'that means a lot coming from someone like you'

is what he would say but

he's still so very shy whenever you're near

poor boy bless him

rantaro amami ♡

he'd be very accepting towards your compliment

he gets it a lot after all

he's very sweet though so

he would definitely give you a compliment in return

then you become the one who's flustered

"what can i say? it's true (Y/N)." he smiles

internally you're just like '!!!"

but in the end you take the compliment

you just can't deny it

K1B0/kiibo ♡

oh, he's very flattered

believe me

he just doesn't know how to express it

human emotions are hard

"thanks! uh—really..."

how do you even return a compliment?

think, kiibo, think!

all in all, he wants to give one back buttt

he wants it to seem heartfelt and NOT robotic

he'll get back to you later, bringing you a whole thank you card

he's trying his best

korekiyo shinguji ♡

his eyes crinkle, the only visible display of how hard he's smiling under his mask

"thank you very much, dear." he would reply

he's very appreciative towards you

seeing as you can only see a little bit of him because of his bandaged body and mask

he's very happy that you perceive him as pretty

even if you can't see all of him

perhaps

little by little, he'll start showing more off to you

only time will tell

kehehehe

kaito momota ♡

you already know he'll have the biggest smile on his face

he grabs you in an instant and pulls you in for a tight hug, patting you on the back

he kind of pats you hard but it's well-meaning

ofc he sends a compliment right back at you

"and don't let anybody EVER tell you otherwise!"

he tells shuichi and maki about it later

and everybody else too

"guess who's a certified pretty boy? this guyyyy" he points to himself

he's seriously so happy about it

gonta gokuhara ♡

at first he misheard you

he thought you were saying the bugs were pretty

"yes! bugs very pretty!"

you agreed but also repeated yourself

he shyly looks away

a cute lil grin on his face

"(Y/N) think gonta pretty?"

yes ofc

he smiles wider and adjusts his specs

"gonta thank you...very much."

ryoma hoshi ♡

he pulls his beanie down onto his face bashfully

your compliment was sooo unexpected for him

"surely, you can't be serious." he murmured

oh but you were

and you reassured him you were

he sighs, finally getting over that initial embarrassment

"okay...fine."

he accepts it!

"but only because it's coming from you."

(his own silly little way of giving you one back and showing that he trusts your judgement)

kokichi ouma ♡

he'll think you're lying

he'll also give you this funny look like he's trying to get you to admit that you're lying

you already caught onto this

but you say nothing else and just smile back at him

it causes him to break into laughter

"you really crack me up, you know that?"

on the inside, he doesn't know what else to say or how else to express his thanks

so he just makes fun of you and leaves

and once he does

your words just replay in his head over and over

'shit, maybe they weren't lying...'

⋆ ˚｡⋆ my ao3

[yourlocaljonghoe]

(Not) Another Love Song. || Choi Jongho.

Summary: having a crush on your new roommate is already nerve-wracking enough. but then finding out about his secret cover account made everything even worse. you swear you didn't mean to find it. but when his voice is the only thing helping you through sleepless nights, what else can you do?

Pairing: choi jongho x reader

Genre: college au, roomates to lovers, fluff, smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 11.5k

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, big dick!jongho (i mean duh), manhandling, body worship, nipple play, riding, unprotected sex

A/N: hello, i want to sincerely apologize for vanishing for so long and then coming back with this trashy fic🥲 seriously, in my head this was so much better, but the end result... ugh. but it's whatever! i want to thank y'all again for being so patient with me and also for 300 followers!! sooo crazy🥺 also big thanks to @inkedtae for being my beta, you were a big help! & as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

“So… I heard someone here got caught in a very awkward situation with their new roommate,” Wooyoung teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he sat down beside you.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please, Wooyoung, don’t remind me. It was so fucking humiliating.”

He laughed, clearly having no intention of stopping. “So, what exactly were you even searching for when he walked in? 'How to talk to your insanely pretty and hot roommate for dummies'?”

You shot him a glare, your cheeks burning. God, you wanted to disappear off the fucking earth, anything to make the teasing stop, really. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to him, okay? And it was just a dumb search. I didn’t expect him to walk in and see it. I-i thought he was out and I would have enough time to prepare some things if I wanted to say to him. You know my conversation skills aren't exactly the best…”

Wooyoung chuckled and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “Well, you’ve definitely made an impression now. But, hey, maybe it’s a good thing! Now he knows you’re shy, and maybe thinks it's kind of cute.”

You groaned again, sinking even deeper into your chair if that was even possible. “It’s not cute. It’s mortifying. He probably thinks I'm such a loser now-”

“Which you are-”

“Shut up, Wooyoung!”

He leaned in closer to you again, his smirk growing. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to avoid him forever, or are you actually going to talk to him like a normal person?”

You groaned, feeling the heat rise to your face again. “I don't know, okay? I'll figure it out… eventually.”

Wooyoung snorted, clearly not buying it. "Sure, ‘eventually’ meaning ‘never.’ Just admit it - you’re avoiding him because he’s totally your type.”

Before you could muster a response and curse him out again, the door to the boys’ shared apartment swung open, and in walked San, Yeosang, and Yunho, their voices filling the room as they entered. They paused when they noticed you and Wooyoung huddled together, immediately raising their eyebrows. 

“What’s going on here?” San asked, a mischievous look in his eyes as he plopped down on the couch beside you.

“Oh, just Y/N getting caught by Choi Jongho - you know, her new roommate - googling ‘how to talk to your roommate 101’,” Wooyoung said, his grin practically splitting his face.

You wanted to personally scratch it off his face.

Yunho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he burst into laughter. “Girl- No way! You didn’t!”

You buried your face in your hands, wishing the ground would just swallow you up. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?"

Yeosang settled down on the armrest, his expression more curious than teasing. "Why didn’t you just talk to us? We could’ve helped.”

“Yeah,” San added, nudging you playfully. “We’re pros at this stuff. Jongho’s just a guy - granted, a rather intimidating guy, but still.”

“Can't one of you just talk to him?” you whined. 

San chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean… we’re not that close to him yet either. He’s still new at the college, and he’s pretty reserved. Besides, he’s your roommate, not ours.”

You sighed. "Great. So, not only am I living with someone who’s way out of my league, but no one’s even close enough to help break the ice."

Yunho nodded sympathetically, but there was still a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, sorry, but it looks like you’re on your own for this one. Well, sort of. We can still help you figure out how to approach him though since, no offense, your social skills suck.”

“None taken,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

Wooyoung leaned in again, clearly enjoying your discomfort just a bit too much. “You know what would help? Actually spending some time together at your place. You two barely even cross paths. That’s probably why you’re so nervous around him.”

“Yeah,” San chimed in, catching on to Wooyoung’s idea. “You live together, but it’s like you’re living in two separate worlds. If you just hung out at home one night, it could break the tension.”

You frowned, the thought of spending a night alone with Jongho making your stomach do flips. “You all know how awkward I am with people…”

Yunho smiled reassuringly. “It will only be as awkward as you make it. Just think of it as spending time with a friend, not as some big, intimidating thing. You could start with a movie, order takeout, something low-key, you know?”

“You don’t have to force a deep conversation either,” Yeosang added. “Just focus on getting comfortable around each other. Once that happens, the rest will surely follow.”

You bit your lip, considering their advice. It wasn’t like you had much to lose - things were already awkward, and avoiding him clearly wasn’t working. But the idea of initiating something still made you nervous. You were a shy, quiet person, and if the boys hadn't practically adopted you, you probably wouldn't have any friends on campus now.

“Come on, Y/N,” Wooyoung encouraged, seeing your hesitation. “You’re making it a bigger deal than it is. Jongho’s not going to bite. And if things get weird, just laugh it off. He’ll appreciate the effort.”

You sighed, finally relenting as you realised they were right - much to your dismay. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to spend some time with him. But if it gets too awkward, I’m blaming all of you!”

Yunho grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. “Let's wait and see first.”

Wooyoung patted your shoulder, his smirk softening into a more genuine smile. “You’ve got this. And hey, if it turns out he’s as cool as he seems, maybe you’ll end up being great friends - or, you know, more.”

You rolled your eyes at Wooyoung’s last comment but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. By the way, where are the others?”

“Uh, Y/N's getting shy~ Look at her blushing and trying to play it cool!”

“One day, Jung Wooyoung, one fucking day!” you hissed, and if looks could kill, he'd definitely be dead by now. 

The others laughed, and Yunho casually threw his arm around you as he sat down, practically shoving poor San out the way.

“But to answer your question: they're grabbing some food. You hungry?” he asked.

“Very”, you answered. 

“Great,” he smirked. “Gotta tell the others about the incident with your crush too once they're back.”

“Whatever dude,” you murmured, sighing defeated.

Operation: ‘How To Talk To Your Roommate’ was officially starting.

You paced around the living room, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. The food you spent ages on - cooking was never a talent of yours, so it took longer than it should have - was set up on the small dining table, and you’d even gone the extra mile, lighting a few candles to create a warm, cozy atmosphere. You’d picked out an action movie to watch too, something random you found while scrolling through Netflix, hoping that Jongho would be a fan of the genre. He certainly didn't strike you as the romantic type of guy.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and with each passing minute your hands got sweater and your heart beat faster. What if this doesn’t go well? What if he thinks it’s weird? You tried to push the thoughts aside, reminding yourself that Jongho never came across as a rude guy in the few months you've known him. Sure, a bit reserved, but so were you. Just relax. It’s not a date. It’s just two roommates hanging out.

You inhaled deeply, straightening out your shirt for what felt like the thousandth time. You were dressed casually but nicely, a nice shirt and some jeans that went perfectly along together. 

The faint sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You quickly tried to compose yourself, running through the plan in your head one more time. Movie, dinner, small talk. Just act natural. Imagine he was one of the guys. Just a super cool, chill evening together.

The door creaked open, and you turned to greet Jongho - only to be met with a sight that made your brain short-circuit. 

In your defense: you were on your period. Meaning you were super horny these days. Plus… it was Jongho. Sue you for having functioning eyes.

He stepped in, and the first thing you noticed was how the drops of sweat clung to his skin, making your mouth almost water. He was wearing a black tank top that clung to his frame, showing off his broad shoulders and toned arms. A dark beanie was pulled down over his head to keep his sweat-soaked hair in check. He was panting slightly, the evidence of his workout clear as he dropped his gym bag by the door.

You blinked, trying to force your brain to reboot. This was going horribly wrong. 

His eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in the scene - the dim lighting, the candles, the carefully set table. You could see the moment his gaze settled on you, still frozen in place by the door.

“Uh... what's all this?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no coherent words came out. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts all tangled up at the sight of him. All you could focus on was how that damn tank top clung to his chest and the way his arms flexed as he moved. It was enough to make you feel lightheaded, and the fact that you were on your period only doubled every emotion and reaction you felt to an unbearable level.

“I-uh-” you stammered, your cheeks burning as you tried to string together a sentence. "I made dinner... I mean, I tried- I- I mean, it's not a 5 star meal but I'm sure not too bad either… hopefully. W-whatever, it's just food, you know? And I thought we could, um, hang out... since we're, uh, roommates and all... and... uh…”

You could see the confusion on Jongho’s face deepen as you rambled on, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to follow your erratic train of thought. The more you babbled, the worse it got, and you could feel tears out of frustration build behind your eyes, making your stomach churn.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jongho asked, taking a cautious step forward, his voice gentle but tinged with concern. 

No. No, you weren’t. And it was your own fault for being so damn anxious over nothing.

You needed to get out of here - away from him, away from this mess of a night. You couldn’t deal with this right now, not with him standing there, looking like every fantasy you’d ever had and more while you were… Well, you.

Shy, awkward, weird you.

“I-I'm fine!” you blurted out, your voice cracking as you backed away toward your room. “I just, uh, forgot something! I’ll be right back! You can eat without me!”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and bolted, practically slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. Once inside, you leaned against the door, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shaky gasps. 

You sat on the floor with your back against the door, trying your best to calm your racing heart. You wanted to scream, cry, or maybe both. All the effort you put into tonight - cooking, setting the table, choosing a movie - it all seemed like such a waste now. How could you face Jongho after what happened? Or rather didn't happen. God, you stood there completely frozen. How embarrassing. And then you couldn't even talk properly. 

What a fucking loser you were.

Minutes passed, and yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave the room. You could hear faint sounds from the living room: the clinking of plates, the shuffling of feet, and the occasional low hum of a voice - probably Jongho talking to himself as he ate. The idea of going back out there made your skin crawl, so you decided to stay put. Maybe he would think you fell asleep or were too tired to come back out. Either way, facing him seemed impossible right now.

Your ego was too hurt.

Just as you were trying to finally move away from the door, a faint rustling sound caught your attention. You looked down and saw a small piece of paper being slowly slid under your door. Hesitant, you picked it up, your heart pounding as you unfolded it.

The note was short, written in Jongho’s neat handwriting:

Thanks for the dinner. It was really good. Hope you’re feeling better soon. Get some rest. Goodnight :)

Jongho.

A small smile stole its way on your lips. He wasn’t upset or weirded out by your behaviour. If anything, he just seemed concerned. It made your heart race, but this time, not out of anxiety.

Gathering your courage after another few minutes, you slowly opened your door and peeked out into the living room. The place was quiet, the table cleared, and the lights dimmed. You expected to see Jongho already back in his room, but instead, you found him asleep on the couch.

He looked peaceful, his head resting against the arm of the couch, his breathing slow and even. He must have dozed off after cleaning up. Your heart softened at the sight, guilt creeping in as you realised he had taken the time to clean up everything by himself while you were hiding away in your room. 

As you quietly approached the couch, you noticed his laptop open on the coffee table. The screen was still on, casting a soft glow over the room. The faint light outlined his peaceful features as he laid sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

You glanced curiously at the screen, wondering what he was trying to do before he fell asleep.

There were several tabs open - a mix of school assignments and a music playlist paused midway through a song. But one tab in particular caught your eye: a YouTube account page.

Oh. Oh. 

His YouTube account to be exact. 

You stood there for a moment, your eyes fixed on the open YouTube tab on Jongho's laptop. The username ‘im_finale’ was displayed in the corner, and you could see a list of song covers he'd uploaded, each one with quite a handful of views. You’d heard him singing before - just snippets of some melodies as he cleaned or studied - but you never would've thought he was actively posting covers online. It was surprising, considering how reserved and private he generally was. But at the same time, it also wasn't. 

After all, he studied music just like you.

Curiosity got the better of you and after a brief moment of hesitation, you tiptoed back to your room, closing the door gently behind you. Once inside, you sat on your bed and pulled out your phone. You typed “im_finale” into the YouTube search bar and, sure enough, his channel immediately popped up. The profile picture was simple - a black-and-white image of a piano key, fitting for the kind of channel he had.

You slowly scrolled through the videos. There were a few classic ballads, some more modern pop songs, and even a couple of R&B tracks. Without thinking too much about it, you grabbed your airpots and then clicked on the most recent upload.

The melody of Through The Night by IU started playing, and there was a brief pause before Jongho’s voice joined in, soft and angelic. 

You leaned back against your pillows, closing your eyes as you let the music fully take you in. It was incredible - better than you could ever have imagined, to be honest. A shiver ran down your spine as the soft falsetto hit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. This is amazing, you thought. His voice had a way of drawing you completely in, of making you forget the whole world around you.

It was just you, him and the melody in the background. 

When the song ended, you opened your eyes and realized you’d been holding your breath the entire time. The room was quiet again, and you immediately started missing his voice in your ears. You didn’t want the moment to end, so you clicked on another video, and then another.

You spent the next hour or so listening to more of his covers, and before you knew it, your eyes had fallen shut, and your breathing slowed down. 

Jongho’s voice was the only thing your mind still registered. It carried you off into sleep, and there, in your dreams, you were no longer listening to his voice through headphones. Instead, he was right beside you, laying in the quiet of your room, softly singing just for you.

Each word he sang seemed meant for your ears alone, and the warmth of his presence made your heart flutter. In that dream, there was nothing bad, nothing to keep your mind in a frenzy - just the two of you, side by side, his beautiful voice wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

For that brief moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the music.

You didn’t know when you drifted off completely, but as you slowly succumbed to your tiredness, his voice still lingered in your mind, keeping you company through the night.

“And that's it for today. Remember: all of today's topics are very important for the next exam!”

You blinked, slowly waking up from your slumber as the lecture hall buzzed with the noise of students packing up their things. Your head was still groggy, the weight of the all-nighter you’d pulled for an assignment last night catching up to you during the lecture. You were vaguely aware that the professor had been going on and on about some theory or another, but you didn't actually remember a single word. Instead, you'd spent the entire class lost in a dreamlike state, all you could really focus on was Jongho’s voice playing over and over again in your earphones.

It has been a week now since you discovered his secret account, and in that time alone, you spent countless hours listening to his covers over and over again. 

As you sat there, still blinking sleep from your eyes, you felt a presence settle beside you, and without thinking, you mindlessly muttered, “Jongho?”

“Yeah, it's me. You okay?”

You jolted upright, startled at the sound of his voice - not through your earbuds this time, but right beside you. You pulled your airpods out and turned your head, half-expecting to still be dreaming, but there he was, standing right next to you with a slightly concerned look in his eyes.

“Oh my god, you're real,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You cringed at your own words, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson red. “I mean - uh, hi.”

Jongho's brow furrowed, though there was a small hint of amusement in his expression. “You were completely out for the entire lecture,” he said, his tone soft but teasing. “I was sitting a few rows back, and I saw you… just knocked out. I figured I'd come check on you.”

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remaining drowsiness. “I was up all night working on an assignment and then… I guess I just passed out.”

Jongho gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I could tell. You looked like you were having a good nap though,” he teased gently. “I was thinking… if you want, I could send you my notes from the lecture. I know you missed most of it.”

Your eyes widened at his offer, your heart skipping a beat. “R-really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he shrugged, “I mean, we’re roommates. Might as well help each other out, right?”

You felt a wave of warmth flood your chest, and a big smile stole its way on your lips. You’d been so nervous about him this whole time, but here he was, offering to help you like it was nothing. He wasn't a big, intimidating guy some people made him out to be. He was kind. And cute. So, so cute. “Thanks, Jongho. I’d really appreciate that.”

“No problem,” he replied easily, waiting for you to gather your things. “I can send them over later tonight, or... well, if you want, we can go over them together now?”

Were you imagining things or was Choi Jongho actually getting red in the face right now?

You blinked, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest altogether. “Oh! Uh, yeah, that’d be great. I mean, if you have time? Like- no pressure, dude.”

He snorted, quickly hiding his laugh behind his hand. You blushed again. “I’ve got time right now. Let’s head to the café right outside the campus or something.”

You couldn’t help the little smile that spread across your face. This was your chance to actually spend some time with him, and your nerves were already buzzing with anticipation. You felt like the happiest woman in the world right now.

“That sounds perfect.”

As the two of you left the lecture hall, you found yourself slowly relaxing. Jongho was easy to talk to, much more than you’d expected. Sure, he was still a little reserved, but he had a dry sense of humour and was actually quite the goofball, making you laugh and smile so hard it almost hurt.

But just as you were walking through the campus toward the café, you heard a familiar voice call out, “Y/N!”

You turned around to see Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang walking towards you, their faces lighting up when they spotted you and Jongho together. You spotted Wooyoung's grin miles away already, and you knew you were in for his usual teasing.

You froze next to Jongho, and he sent a questioning look towards you.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” Wooyoung smirked, stopping in front of you two. “Didn’t we have plans today, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened, and a long forgotten thought popped up again. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We were supposed to meet up at the restaurant, weren’t we?”

San crossed his arms, trying to look serious but failing to hide the playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, the others are already waiting there. It's your turn today, but you probably forgot that too, right?”

“…And what if I did?” you mumbled quietly, shying away from their gazes. Truth be told, the last few days have been pretty hectic for you. Getting your assignment done and dealing with your insomnia (again) had taken up pretty much all your time, and the only thing making your day brighter has been Jongho.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

Jongho glanced between you and your friends. He shifted his weight slightly, his brow furrowed in mild concern. “Uh, do you want to go with them then? I mean, if you forgot… I don’t want to make things awkward,” he said, trying to gauge the situation.

“What? No, it’ll be fine, you can come with us if you want,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I mean, it’s just dinner with friends. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Jongho hesitated, looking at you and then back at your friends. “I don’t want to intrude or anything,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t really know you guys that well.”

San stepped forward, his smile wide and welcoming. “You’re not intruding! We’d love to have you. Besides, Y/N talks about you all the time, it's time for us to finally get to know you for real.” 

Your cheeks flushed at that, and you could feel the heat rising. “Okay, maybe not all the time,” you mumbled, shooting Jongho an apologetic look. 

“See? You’re already family now,” Wooyoung teased, throwing an arm around Jongho’s shoulders. Jongho stiffened slightly, clearly not used to the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away. 

“Alright, let’s get going then,” you said, trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness. “I really don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

Together you started walking to your favourite Korean restaurant, just five minutes from your campus. Wooyoung and San kept talking and laughing together, with Yeosang throwing in a comment here and there, while Jongho walked beside you, a bit quieter but smiling at the playful exchange nonetheless.

When you finally arrived, the familiar scent of fried rice and kimchi welcomed you. The restaurant was completely full as always, and you spotted Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi at your usual table, all of them already deep in conversation.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!” Yunho called out, waving you over. His grin was infectious, and you felt your mood lift even more at the sight of your favourite people.

“Sorry! I lost track of time,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you approached the table. “But I brought my roommate along! Everyone, meet Jongho!”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho!” Mingi said, extending his hand for a shake. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jongho looked a bit surprised but shook Mingi’s hand with a shy smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Is she loud? Messy? Annoying? You two also study music together, right? How is she in class?"

“Okay mom, let Jongho sit down first,” you laughed, guiding Jongho to the seat right next to you.

Jongho chuckled softly at your comment, and slowly took the seat beside you, though you could still sense a bit of his initial hesitation in his movement. It was probably overwhelming to be surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces all at once. You glanced over at him and shot a reassuring smile. He returned it, his expression softening a little.

Seonghwa leaned in with a playful smile. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Don’t think you’re getting away without answering that one!”

Jongho glanced at you, his lips curving into a slight smile. “Honestly, we don’t get to see each other much because our schedules don't quite align. But I can say she’s definitely better than my last roommate. A lot quieter, too.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Quieter? Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one who constantly talks and talks and-”

“Enough, Choi San!”

Jongho giggled. Oh god, that gummy smile and the sound of his slight laughter would be the absolute death of you. “Compared to my last roommate, yes. Trust me.”

You grinned, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart. “You’re making me sound boring.”

“Nah,” Jongho replied, shaking his head. “You’re definitely not boring. Just… respectful. Which I appreciate.”

There was a warm look in his eyes, and you felt your heart skip a beat. But before you could dwell on it, Wooyoung cut in, “So, what’s she like in class? Is she as much of a goody two-shoes as she pretends to be?”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully. “Excuse me, I’m just trying to pass, okay? Not my fault your grades suck-”

“-my grades are just fine, thank you very much,” Wooyoung grumbled. 

Jongho smiled, his gaze flickering to you. “She’s a good student. Serious when it counts, but still knows how to have fun.”

“Wow, I almost believed that,” Yeosang joked, earning a round of laughter.

“What is it with all of you today…”, you mumbled, sighing at their teasing. Hongjoong shot you an apologetic look from the other side of the table.

San raised a shot glass and grinned. “Alright, enough of that. It’s game time. How about Truth or Dare?”

Yunho quickly grabbed the bottle of soju from the table you ordered earlier. “Oh, yes. Truth or Dare, with a twist.” He wiggled the bottle in his hand. “A shot if you don’t answer or refuse a dare.”

Everyone cheered as the game began, with the bottle passed around and the first few rounds filled with harmless dares and easy truths. As the soju loosened everyone’s nerves, the questions became bolder, and the laughter grew louder.

Mingi got asked who from your friends he'd consider for a potential threesome, and with red cheeks the gentle giant mumbled Yunho and that girl in his class he'd been interested in for awhile now, before quickly downing a shot and avoiding everyone's eyes.

Eventually, it was your turn. “Truth or Dare, Y/N?” Yunho asked, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Truth,” you said, knowing you weren’t in the mood for a dare just yet.

“Describe your ideal type,” Yunho said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

You hesitated for a moment, your thoughts racing as you tried to keep your cool. “Well…” you began, looking down at your hands. “I guess I like someone who’s not too loud-”

“-that feels oddly targeted,” Wooyoung mumbled, but you deliberately ignored him.

“And who can be very playful but also serious when it matters. Someone who's kind and has a good sense of humour, even if it's a little dry at times.” You glanced quickly at Jongho before looking away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Someone who’s hardworking and determined, who takes what they do seriously. Oh, and physically…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as a picture quickly came to your mind. “I guess I’m into someone with a strong build… someone who’s tall but not too tall, maybe with broad shoulders. And, um… nice eyes.”

“Nice eyes?” San echoed, grinning as he raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

“Okay, that's enough!” you laughed, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. “You got your answer. I exposed myself enough.”

But, as always, Wooyoung wasn’t letting you off that easily. “Hmm, strong build, nice eyes… sounds like someone at this table fits that description,” he teased, nudging Jongho with his elbow.

Jongho’s ears turned pink, but he quickly composed himself, at least from the outside. “I didn’t realize this was now a matchmaking session,” he said with a soft laugh.

You quickly reached for a shot and downed it, trying to shift the attention away from you and the poor man next to you. “Alright, who’s next?” you said, waving your hand.

“Yeosang, c’mon!” Wooyoung and San shoved the poor man, and all of you laughed as you watched the chaos unfold.

“You're an idiot!” you whined for the fifth time in a row as Jongho carefully guided your wobbling figure along the sidewalk. Jongho’s hand remained steady on your arm, keeping you upright as the cool night air brushed against your flushed cheeks.

“I'm the idiot?” he chuckled, “unbelievable. As far as I know, I'm not the one who forgot their wallet for the dinner they were supposed to pay for.” 

You huffed, your pout deepening as you glanced up at him. “It’s not my fault!” you protested. “I had every intention of treating everyone, and then - poof! My wallet decided to disappear. It’s probably off somewhere having the time of its life without me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jongho replied, his lips curling into that teasing smile you were starting to become very familiar with. “Sure, blame the wallet. It definitely wasn’t the fact that you were rushing out the door half-awake this morning and even forgot you had dinner plans with your friends in the first place.”

“Okay, I’ll admit I was a bit of a mess,” you conceded, shooting him a sheepish look. “But still! You didn’t have to pay for everything, you know. I feel bad about it. It was supposed to be my treat, not yours.”

He shrugged, his grip on your arm gentle but firm as he guided you over a small bump in the sidewalk. “I told you, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’m happy to cover it. Besides, I’d rather do that than have you stress out over it in front of the poor barista.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the fondness in your gaze betrayed your attempt at being stern with him. “But that’s not fair! Now I owe you, and I don’t like owing people.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You can’t just accept a little kindness from your roommate?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “It’s not that I can’t accept kindness,” you murmured, your voice softening. “It’s just… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or something.”

He shook his head, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Trust me, I don’t think that,” he said. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to.”

“But you paid for eight people you basically didn't know!” you whined.

“Seven,” he said.

“Huh?”

He looked you right in the eye. “I only paid for seven. After all, I know you, Y/N. Perhaps even better than you think.”

You opened your mouth to argue further, but the alcohol in your mind made it difficult for you to come up with any smart remarks.

“Okay,” you said at last, giving in with a reluctant sigh. “But I’m still cooking dinner for the next two weeks. No excuses!”

“Deal,” Jongho replied easily, flashing you that signature gummy smile you so adored. “Do I have to be scared though? You know, because….”

“I had an accident in our kitchen once, Jongho! Once!”

“Yeah, and what if you accidentally kill us with your next accident?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder as he laughed loudly beside you. “Ha ha, very funny,” you muttered, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide. 

This has been all you wanted.

Talking, laughing, just being with him.

“You’re still awake?” Jongho's voice broke the silence as he walked through the door, his brows rising when he saw you lying on the couch.

“Yeah,” you sighed, keeping your gaze on the TV. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Jongho dropped his keys onto the table and made his way over to you, sitting down at the edge of the couch. “Another rough night?”

You nodded. After a few weeks, the two of you had finally gotten closer, even going as far as sharing a few personal struggles with one another here and there. And when you opened up about your constant struggle with insomnia, Jongho showed you nothing but sympathy and support.

Now, there are little to no secrets between the two of you.

Well… except one.

 “Guess my brain didn't get the memo. Again.”

He frowned, his eyes scanning your tired face. “You should’ve called. I would’ve come back sooner.”

You shook your head. “You were out with your friends. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“It wouldn’t have,” he said, his tone soft but firm as he settled in next to you. “Let’s see if I can help.”

Jongho's eyes wandered to the empty spot on the coffee table where your earphones usually sat. "Where are?...”

“My earphones?” you chuckled.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “You always have them, especially when you can’t sleep.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Oh, right. Funny story,” you said, a wry smile spreading across your lips. “I kind of… broke them today.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“No swearing, Mr. Choi! A dollar into the swear jar!”

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled, and you just watched him with a big grin on your face as he trotted to a small table across the room and reached into his pockets for some money.

“Anyways,” you began, “I was trying to untangle the cord, but it just had this goddamn impossible knot. So I thought, ‘I’ll just give it a little yank to loosen it up.’” You gestured with your hands to show how exactly you’d pulled on the cord. “Except… it wasn’t a little yank. I guess I don’t know my own strength, because the whole thing literally snapped right in half.”

Jongho let out an adorable giggle as he dropped a dollar into the swear jar, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seems like we're spending too much time together,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “First, you're breaking stuff with your bare hands, and next thing you know, you'll be lifting weights in the gym like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Oh, please. I think I’ll leave the muscle-building to you, Mr. Choi. I don't think I could even surpass Wooyoung.” 

“Well, good thing I’m here to help you out if you ever have to fight him.” He paused, briefly glancing toward the hallway.  But about your earphones, I think I actually have a spare pair in my room somewhere. Want me to go grab them for you?” 

Your eyes widened a little. “You sure? I don’t want to take your extra pair.”

Jongho waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t use them much anyway,” he said, already rising from the couch before you could stop him. “Besides, I’d rather you have something to help you sleep.” He threw you a reassuring look as he headed down the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”

You smiled fondly, letting out a heartfelt sound. 

What a helpless fool you were.

And it didn't even face you anymore.

You heard some rummaging sounds and then, as quickly as he left, Jongho returned, holding a pair of earphones in his right hand.

“Found them,” he said, dropping them into your lap with a smile. “They might not be as good as your old ones, but they should do the trick.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you stared down at the earphones in your lap. “Thanks, Jongho. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, sitting back down beside you. “So, what have you been listening to lately? Anything good?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his question. Oh no. There it was. The one question you’d been dreading for weeks. Because how on earth were you supposed to casually admit that you’d been listening to his covers on loop every night to fall asleep? How could you even begin to explain that hearing his voice was the only thing that seemed to quiet your restless mind? That every time you saw him, all you could think about was his heavenly voice?

You blinked a few times, scrambling for a response. “Oh, um… you know. Just... nature sounds.”

“Nature sounds?” Jongho raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to let out a sound of disbelief, but his lips slowly turning into a grin betrayed him. “What, like rain and thunderstorms?”

“What? No- I mean yeah, exactly!” You latched onto the excuse, nodding quickly. “The sound of rain hitting the window, thunder rumbling in the distance... It’s, um, super relaxing. You should try it out too!”

Jongho let out a chuckle. “You’re telling me that after all the music recommendations I’ve given you, you’re still just listening to… the weather?”

You squirmed under his amused gaze, feeling like you were digging yourself deeper into a hole you no longer could escape. “I mean, who doesn’t love a good rainstorm? It’s... very atmospheric.”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “You’re not secretly listening to those white noise apps, are you? The ones with whale sounds and stuff?”

You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up even more. “Okay, fine, you caught me. It’s... whale noises. That’s my secret. I’m a whale sound enthusiast. Go whales… or something like that.”

Jongho’s laughter filled the room, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back on the couch. “Oh my god, I did not see that coming. When you talk with our fellow students about music you always have such an exquisite taste.”

“Don’t judge me!” you whined, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Whale songs are actually very calming, okay? Very... melodic.”

“I’m not judging,” he said, but his smirk told another story, “Just... surprised, that’s all.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, quickly hiding under the covers and putting your newly gifted earphones in your ear.

For a while, nothing but silence lingered between you two.

And while you were finally close to him, not just physically, something dimmed the sheer happiness you should be feeling right now. After weeks of wanting this - an evening alone, just the two of you, with no distractions - here he finally was, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His relaxed smile and the easy way he stretched out on the couch, clearly comfortable around you, made you weak in the knees. You wanted to keep talking, keep him here just a little longer. But another, more pressing urge that you could no longer suppress tugged at you too: the desperate need for sleep.

Again, you glanced down at the earphones he’d handed you, feeling your face heat up at the thought. You knew they’d bring you some relief, and, well… they’d help you finally drift off. But the problem was, you didn’t want him to know just what you’d be listening to. Jongho had given you endless music recommendations over the past few months, and each time, you’d nodded along and pretended to take notes. Yet every night, without fail, you’d go back to his voice - the gentle, captivating sound of his covers that somehow eased every last worry from your mind.

But listening to them now, with him here, just felt… impossible. What if he caught on? Or worse, what if he asked what you were listening to again? You’d already given him the whale-song excuse, and he seemed to find it hilarious. But if he pressed further, if he somehow guessed the truth, you didn’t know how you’d face him.

Would he find it… weird? Perhaps even creepy how obsessed you were with him?

You took a deep breath before turning your gaze back to him. Jongho glanced at you, a playful smile still lingering on his lips as he reclined back against the couch.

“Honestly,” he said, “it’s good to finally just sit and do nothing for once. Feels like it's been ages since we could hang out without something due the next day.”

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding along. “Yeah, really… It’s kind of like I’ve forgotten what ‘free time’ is supposed to feel like.”

He leaned his head back, stretching his arms out with a relaxed sigh. His shirt rose up a little, exposing just the tiniest amount of skin, and you almost went feral.

Almost.

Thank god you had a good poker face. 

“Well, now that we’re free… I hope you’ll be up for some movie nights or coffee runs together. You know, normal human activities,” he said with a slight grin. “We might finally have time for them now.”

You bit your lip, trying not to appear too eager. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“...Maybe we could even plan a trip somewhere fun. Like a quick weekend thing—hey, are you falling asleep on me?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed your head beginning to droop.

You blinked, trying to fight it off, but the weariness was impossible to ignore. “N-no, I’m still here,” you mumbled, barely coherent.

“Tell me something,” he suddenly said.

“Hm? Like… a sudden deep talk?”

He shook his head. “No, something funny. Something you've never told anyone before.”

You blinked, still caught in that dreamy, half-asleep haze, but his question pulled you back a bit, sparking a soft laugh. “Something I’ve never told anyone?” you murmured, glancing up at him, your mind trying to pull together something coherent.

He nodded, giving you an expectant look, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Alright,” you said, after pulling something out of your memories. “So, you know the song Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur?”

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat, fighting off the urge to blush. “There was a point where I listened to it… let’s just say, an embarrassingly high number of minutes. Like… 4,400 minutes. Just that song. On repeat.”

His eyes widened, and he stared at you in disbelief. “4,400 minutes?!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Are you serious? You listened to the same song for what… almost three days?”

“Don’t do the math!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as he laughed even harder, his whole body practically shaking. “It’s not like it was all at once! It was spread out over months… I think.”

He grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you that. But I have to know - why that song? What’s the obsession?”

You hesitated, looking away, unsure if you could say it outright. Because it made me think of you, you wanted to admit. But there was no way you could say that.

Because… wasn't it still too early? 

Though you knew - or well, hoped - that there was something, anything, between you, it all felt too fast. 

But maybe even that was just your insecurities speaking again.

“It… just helped me feel calm,” you finally said, settling on something true yet safe. “Like, I could close my eyes and forget everything for a few minutes. It felt… peaceful, I guess. I really needed this at that time.”

Jongho’s expression softened immediately  “I get it,” he murmured. “Music can do that. It’s like… sometimes, you just need a sound that's just for you.” He glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad this was your song.”

“My song…,” you mumbled.

His words made your heart flutter, but your tired mind could no longer keep up. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and you could barely keep yourself upright. You didn’t even realize you’d started to lean on him until you felt his shoulder beneath your cheek.

“You really are falling asleep on me, aren’t you?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You grumbled something unintelligible, too far gone to form words. But as you drifted off, you felt his arm settle around you, warm and steady just like his whole persona, holding you close. The last thing you heard was his soft chuckle and a quiet, barely-there murmur that made your heart race, even in sleep.

“May you dream of the happiest melody, Y/N.”

And you did. Along with his beautiful, beautiful voice.

“Damn, it’s quiet in here today,” you mumbled, glancing around the mostly empty restaurant as you slid into the booth across from Wooyoung, San, and Yunho.

“Probably because everyone else is buried in textbooks,” Yunho said with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. “These exams are no joke.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. “Speak for yourself. I’m practically living at the library these days. I didn’t sign up for this level of suffering.”

San nodded, looking equally exhausted. “Same here. Every time I close my eyes, I just see formulas. It’s like they’re burned into my brain. At times I feel like I can even smell them.”

“-How the fuck do formulas smell man?!”

You chuckled, trying not to let the mention of exams raise your own stress levels again. Life was horrible, really. After just finishing a big assignment you only got such little free time with Jongho before being thrown into the next stressful time period. “Don’t worry, guys. Spring break is just around the corner. We just have to survive a little longer.”

Wooyoung smirked, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but by the way, I don’t see you here with Jongho today. What happened? Couldn’t convince your pookie bear to take a break with you?”

You felt your cheeks flush as they all stared at you shamelessly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “He’s just busy with his study group, that’s all. Unlike you guys, he actually does something for his grades without complaining every five minutes.”

Yunho snickered. “Well, then he’s missing out. At least we make it fun.”

San grinned. “Honestly, though, you two do seem to be spending a lot of time together lately. Practically glued at the hip. When are you finally going to confess?”

Your face heated up instantly, and you felt your mouth go dry at San’s question. “W-What? Confess? What are you talking about?” You tried to laugh it off, waving your hand dismissively, but the guys weren’t buying it.

Wooyoung gasped, leaning in closer with a smirk. “Oh my god, you haven’t told him, have you? You’re seriously killing me here! It’s so obvious to everyone else I'm wondering how he hasn't realized it himself yet.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks reddening immediately betrayed you. “It’s not like that, okay? Jongho and I are just...we’re just friends who happen to enjoy spending time together. That’s all.”

Yunho scoffed playfully. “Yeah, right. Just friends. You realize that whenever he’s around, you can’t take your eyes off him, right? You’re not exactly subtle.”

San nudged Wooyoung beside him with his elbow, grinning. “And Jongho? He lights up every time you’re nearby. I've never seen him smile like that!”

“Well maybe that's because you don't know him that well-”

“-Y/N!”

You buried your face in your hands, feeling equal parts embarrassment and frustration. “Can we please not talk about this right now? Seriously, I came here to relax, not to get grilled on my nonexistent love life.”

Wooyoung chuckled, patting your hand reassuringly. Though you sensed he had a lot more to say, he seemed to take mercy on you. “Alright, alright, we’ll stop - for now. But mark my words, if you don’t make a move soon, we’re staging an intervention. It's slowly driving me insane.”

“Alright, so spring break - any plans?” you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from any more embarrassing teasing.

Yunho perked up immediately. “Yes! Beach trip. I’m craving some sun and waves, honestly.”

“Count me in,” San said, leaning back with a grin. “But none of that hiking or early morning stuff. Or the others will surely complain again.”

They all laughed, nodding in agreement, and the conversation drifted into a comfortable, lighthearted debate over the best spots to visit and various activities to squeeze in. But as they threw out endless ideas, you couldn’t help but think about Jongho, wishing he could join you guys for spring break. The thought of him laughing and unwinding together with the group you deemed family, tugged at your heart. But you weren’t sure if he’d be up for it.

There was a good chance he’d already have plans with his family or his own circle of friends. You weren’t sure he’d be into the idea of tagging along with your friends. After all, he might still choose a quiet week with his family.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize you'd gone quiet until Yunho carefully nudged you. "Earth to Y/N? Thinking about someone in particular you’d like to invite?" His eyes sparkled with that all-too-familiar mischief.

You felt your face heat up again. "W-What? No, I was just thinking it'd be nice to get everyone together, you know? All of us, no stress...and, well, maybe if I were to ask Jongho, it'd be good to have a plan.”

Wooyoung threw his head back in exasperation. "Ugh, I swear if you don’t invite him, we’re doing it for you."

“Fine, fine,” you said, chuckling. “If we can all figure out what we’re doing, maybe I’ll bring it up to him. No promises, though.”

San smirked. “That's all we needed to hear. We'll take care of the rest.”

Just as you all finally settled into comfortable silence, the server arrived with your food, and everyone’s attention quickly turned to the plates being set down. It was exactly what you all needed: comforting, warm, and ever so tasty. For the first few minutes, the only sounds were forks and spoons clinking against plates and contented sighs as each of you dug in.

“Damn, this place always hits the spot,” San mumbled through a mouthful, already reaching for another helping. You just laughed as all of them devoured their plates like animals. “I swear, it’s the only good thing that’s happened all week.”

Yunho nodded, still chewing. “Honestly, if we just survive this semester, we should come back and order everything on the menu to celebrate.”

You agreed, mumbling something no one could understand as you immediately took another bite. The food was too good, and, for a while, everyone focused on just enjoying their meals. Conversations drifted between lighthearted topics - TV shows everyone was watching, the latest music releases, funny memes on TikTok - until finally, you all started to slow down, plates empty and stomachs full.

Leaning back, you stretched a little, rubbing your belly satisfied. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we head out. I’ll meet you guys outside?”

The guys nodded, already beginning to gather their things after paying for the meal. As you slid out of the booth and walked away, you heard Wooyoung’s voice echo teasingly, “Don’t take too long, Y/N! I still want to go and check out that new store at the end of the street!”

You just shook your head, smiling to yourself as you headed down the hall. By the time you returned to the entrance, they were all waiting, bundled up and leaning casually against the doorway.

As you stepped out of the restaurant, you took out your phone, scrolling absentmindedly to catch up on a few missed notifications. A few messages from your friends, Amazon telling you one of the items you want was on sale and so on. The guys were walking just ahead of you, laughing about something Wooyoung had said, and for a moment, you fell behind, trying to type while still watching the road ahead of you.

But then something made you stop short, your thumb frozen mid-swipe.

Right there, on Jongho’s cover account, was a new post - one you weren’t expecting. The title stopped your heart: “Falling Like the Stars.” 

You paused, thumb hovering over the screen as your heart thundered in your chest. Jongho had posted this song - your song. The one you’d told him about so excitedly, just a few nights ago, when he asked you about something you never told anyone before. You could practically hear your own words echoing back at you: “It… just helped me feel calm.”

He’d listened. Jongho had actually listened - and not only remembered but went so far as to cover the song himself. 

The others had started walking ahead, their voices mingling with the busy sounds of everyday life around you as they headed toward the shop Wooyoung wanted to visit. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the screen, where Jongho’s cover account stared back at you.

And at that very moment, you knew. 

You knew that he knew.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, the boys having stopped in their tracks and looking at you with confusion written all over their faces.

“I- yeah. I’m… I’m fine, I just…” Words failed you as you looked at each of their faces, one by one, not knowing how to act, what to say, what to do.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, barely piecing together a coherent thought as your mind raced. “I’m sorry, guys. I just- there’s something I have to do. Right now. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” The words tumbled out, rushed and a little breathless, as if you didn’t say them now, you’d lose the nerve.

And you felt like you really might.

“Look,” you said, “I just… I need to go. I’ll text you later!”

Without waiting, you turned on your heel, your legs already moving before you’d fully registered what the fuck you were doing. 

You barely noticed the familiar streets flying by as you sprinted the few blocks to your shared flat with Jongho. Heart pounding, half from the run and half from the thrill of what lay ahead, you finally rounded the last corner and saw the front of the building come into view.

By the time you reached your door, you were completely out of breath but determined, fumbling with your keys until the lock finally clicked. You pushed the door open, chest heaving, and there he was - sitting at the small dining table, headphones on, leaning over a notebook. He looked up, startled at the sound of the door, eyes widening as he saw you standing there, still desperately catching your breath.

“Y/N?” He pulled his headphones down, brow furrowed. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“S-since when did you know, Choi Jongho?!”

For a second, he remained completely silent. Even his body stopped moving, and he just… looked at you.

And you looked at him.

It was as if time was frozen still.

He slowly shifted in his chair, setting the headphones aside as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table.

“It was… when you fell asleep on me,” he began, his voice steady despite the tension hanging in the air. “I carried you to your room, and when I was putting you down, I saw my account open on your laptop.”

His gaze held yours, a flicker of something sincere reflecting in his eyes. “That’s when I knew. And that’s when I decided to post that cover.”

“I-” You suddenly felt the urgent need to defend yourself. And so, with cheeks as red as your favourite type of flowers, you hastily said: “Please don't think I'm obsessed with you or something! I-i seriously didn't know for a long while and- God, this is so awkward- a-and I didn't even mean to find it! If you think I stalked you, I can assure you I really-”

“Y/N-”

“No Jongho, seriously let me explai-”

Before you could even realize what happened, Jongho had already closed the distance between you and was now standing in front of you, tall and strong and commanding, with a look in his eyes that made your heart skip and your knees weak. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and then, without a warning, his lips were one yours, and you were melting away in his arms.

Your mouth willingly opened to his, and your tongues met for the briefest instance before he pulled away, panting and looking at you like a meal he wanted to devour.

“I like you, Y/N,” he said, voice husky and filled with a primal need that mirrored your own. “And I'm honored you like my covers this much. Seriously, I- how could you ever think I'd be creeped out? You've done nothing wrong, silly woman.”

He chuckled, and it made all the tension in your body disappear, and you couldn't help but to hide your face behind your hands and laugh along with him.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You melted against him, his strong body completely enveloping you. You inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of him wash over you - something musky yet sweet, with a hint of laundry detergent.

He laid his head atop yours, his hands slowly finding a protective  place on your hips. You both stood in silence for a moment, the world outside completely  fading away. You could hear the soft thud of his heart, steady and reassuring, syncing with your own rapid beats.

“Y/N…” he murmured softly, breaking the peaceful silence after a while. “You know… I actually wanted to quit that account for a while now.” The sudden shift in his tone caught your attention, and you looked up, surprised.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so talented. You shouldn’t give up on something you love.”

He sighed, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression serious. “It just… it felt like no one cared. I was starting to think that maybe my covers weren’t good enough. But then I found out you listened to it, and… and it made me realize that maybe not a lot of people might listen, but at least you are.”

Your fingers gently cradled Jongho's face, your thumbs brushing along his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You couldn't help but smile at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You have no idea how much I love your voice,” you said softly. “It’s the only thing that helps me fall asleep at night. I’d listen to your covers over and over again, and they’d calm my racing thoughts. I- I fell for you even before we became roommates, you know? I saw you on campus with your friends, in class and… I… it hit me so fast and hard. And then we became roommates, and then-”

“Psst,” he laid a finger over your lips, and you looked up at him, confused, “You talk too much, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky. “When we could be doing this instead.” With that, he moved his hand, sliding it down the curve of your back, making you arch into his touch involuntarily.

In one swift motion, Jongho lifted you off your feet, his strong arms wrapping around you like a steel cage. You let out a startled laugh, quickly turning into a moan as you felt his hard body pressed against yours. Instinctively, you locked your legs around his waist, your arms snaking around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

His lips crashed down on yours, hungry and demanding. Jongho devoured your mouth, his tongue sweeping inside, tangling with yours in a heated dance. You could taste the hint of mint from his toothpaste, mixed with the unique flavor that was purely Jongho. It was a taste you craved for months now, and you eagerly responded, matching his hunger.

Pulling back slightly, he teased your lips, nibbling gently on your top lip before sucking it into his warm mouth. You whimpered, feeling the sensitivity of your lips as he lavished attention on them. His tongue traced the outline of it, making you shiver as he repeated the action on your bottom lip.

“God, I love your lips,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. “So soft and responsive.”

You giggled, a little breathless, as he continued to pepper kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking gently. “I love your mouth too, Jongho,” you managed to say between kisses. “And your voice... it drives me wild.”

He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter tickling your skin. “Oh, I know, baby. But… you haven't heard anything yet, baby.”

With that, he set you down gently, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve and dip. He worshipped your body with his touch, his fingers trailing fire along your skin. He unbuttoned your blouse slowly, revealing your lace bra, and you shivered as his fingertips brushed against your exposed skin.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to touch every inch of you.”

You reached for the hem of his shirt, eager to explore his body as well. As you pulled it over his head, your breath caught at the sight of his strong chest and arms. His skin was warm and smooth, and you couldn't resist running your hands over his muscular frame.

“Feel how hard you make me,” he groaned, stopping your exploring hands and instead guiding them to the prominent bulge in his pants. You gasped at the size of his erection, feeling the length and thickness through the fabric. “I've been waiting to be inside you, Y/N. To feel your tight pussy around my cock.”

Your core clenched at his words, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “I want that too, Jongho,” you whispered,”I- ah, I want to feel you, all of you.”

He wasted no time in removing your clothes, his skilled hands efficiently unfastening your bra and sliding off your pants. Soon, you were both naked, standing in the middle of the room, desire burning in both your eyes.

Jongho's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch. “Ah I see, my girl likes when I play with her nipples, doesn't she?” he whispered, his breath hot in your ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“I-I want you," you panted, reaching down to stroke his rigid length. “I want to feel you inside me, to ride you, to taste you…”

He groaned, his body trembling at your touch. “Then take me, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

Guiding you to the bed, he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of the passionate dance you already took earlier.

Straddling his hips, you positioned yourself above his throbbing cock, feeling the head nudge against your wet entrance. And then, slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by agonizing inch, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his impressive size.

“Oh, fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hands gripping your hips as you descended. “You're so tight, Y/N. So wet and hot.”

You moaned, feeling incredibly full as you took him all the way inside. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of being completely impaled on his thick shaft.

“Move, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strained. “Fucking ride me, baby.”

You began to move, slowly at first, rising and falling, taking him in and out of your heated core. As you picked up the pace, Jongho's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples, and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

“That's it, baby,” he growled, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Fuck, you look so sexy riding me.”

His words spurred you on, and you quickened your movements, your hips rolling as you rode him as hard as you possibly could. The room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans, and Jongho's husky encouragements.

“That's it, take all of me,” he grunted, his hands gripping your thighs, guiding your movements. “You're so tight around my cock, Y/N. I'm gonna come so hard inside you.”

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his chest as you quickened your pace, driving him deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, Y/N, just like that,” he groaned, his hips rising to meet your downward strokes. “Fuck, you're so tight,” he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I can feel every inch of you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard.”

You could feel the pressure building in your core, the pleasure mounting with each and every thrust. Your body trembled, your muscles clenching around his thick shaft as you rode him with abandon. The sensation was overwhelming, almost making you drown in it entirely. 

“Jongho, I'm so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-”

“Yes, baby, cum for me,” he urged, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples. “Let me feel you cum around my cock. Let me feel you milking me dry.”

The sensation of his fingers on your nipples was the final push you needed. Your body tensed, your vision blurring as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. You screamed his name, your voice echoing in the room as your inner muscles clamped down on his shaft, milking him with desperate, rhythmic pulses.

“Jongho! Oh, God, Jongho!”

He groaned in response, his body shuddering as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. His hands tightened on your breasts, his nails digging into your skin as he spilled his release, filling you with hot, thick spurts of his seed.

You collapsed onto his chest, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as he panted, his heart pounding against your ear.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You're incredible. I've never felt anything like that.”

You nuzzled into his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Neither have I,” you murmured, “That was... amazing.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “We're not done yet, baby,” he said and you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “Oh, really?” you asked, your voice dripping with anticipation. “What do you have in mind?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “You see… for that, you might have to cancel any plans you might have for the upcoming spring break, because in no fucking world am I gonna let you leave this goddamn apartment before I haven't tried every position that exists out there.”

You feigned a pout, placing a hand over your heart in mock despair. “Oh no, what will I tell the boys?”

“I'll make sure to come up with a very, very believable excuse for them, baby.”