#like snap back......... it i s so s ad

[nemotakeit]

i think that if we dig all the way down to the roots of tøp's musical theme, it all comes down to that constant internal conflict between desperately wanting to be seen and desperately wanting to stay hidden. we can see how they've been making gradual progress in "managing the tension" but it's still there on Clancy. dare i say it's the central theme of the lore as well.. the reason the character & the era Clancy feels so rebellious is because he's actively fighting to Be Seen. the oscillation continues, but a subversive variable has emerged.

[swytdoll]

♡.ྀི₊thinking about mean!overworked and underfucked nanami:3

it’s utterly cruel as he forces your fucked out face against the penthouse window. any other time, you'd be gushing over the breathtaking view of the city lights, but the way kento's fat tip gnaws at your cervix has your eyes rolling back in your skull.

a sinewy hand grips your throat, tightening to the point where you feel lightheaded. the other hand is firmly placed on your hip, anchoring your ass against his pelvis. you've been in this position for what feels like an eternity, pressed against the glass like an animal as he fucked you like a mutt in heat. the chill of the glass contrasts with the warmth radiating from him, each thrust causing the surface to shudder beneath you.

“such a slut, letting me use you like this—ha! bet it turns you on fucking your boss like this—god,” he snarls, voice thick with lust. the wet squelch of your slick pussy is audible in the room, only adding to your embarrassment. the shame has your eyes brimming with tears, the sting of them mixing with the ache between your legs.

he chuckles darkly. "that's right, sweetheart. i know how much of a fucking whore you are." he's relentless, driving his cock deep into your cunt as he uses your throat to keep you upright. “m’not a whore!” you try to argue, but it's incoherent due to the cock shoved in your cunt. he doesn't respond, but the grip on your hip tightens. his pace is brutal, each snap of his hips causing your ass to jiggle. your pussy flutters around his girth, sucking him in as he plows into you. the pressure building in your abdomen too much.

“don’t make me laugh.” he hisses, bending his knees slightly so that he can hit a new angle, the new position knocking a series of whines from your throat. you’re pretty sure he’s in your womb, molding your gummy walls around his length.

"always prancing around in those slutty skirts and shirts—i see the way you stare at me when you think i'm not looking. so needy. you wanted this from the beginning, didn't you?” he pauses, letting out a guttural moan.

“i knew all along. how could i not? you were practically throwing yourself at me. batting your fucking eyelashes, and now i've got you exactly where i want you. i bet it was all just a ploy to get my dick. i'm right, aren't i?"

even as he’s degrading you, you can't help but moan. kento’s hand moves to your ass, giving your cheek a sharp smack. the stinging sensation forces a cry from you, and you clench around his member, causing him to let out a string of curses.

“my point proven—ha! s’fuckin sad.”

the hand gripping your throat moves to the back of your head, pushing your face further against the cool glass.

"i'm not gonna last long," he groans, his hips beginning to falter. he's going harder, faster, and the way he splits you makes you scream. tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you come undone, the sensation of being full, so fucking full, causing you to go limp in his grasp. he doesn't stop, and the way he fucks you through your orgasm makes your vision go spotty.

he draws your hair into his hands, creating a makeshift ponytail for his fingers to weave into. then, he yanks hard, the sudden action forcing you to arch your back. “why do sluts always have the best pussy? no fair.” he sneers, he's fucking into you with such fervor that you're afraid the window might splinter.

“s-slow down, nanami-san, you're gonna b-break me," you stammer, voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn't.

the only thing you can do is take it. the way his head slams against your hilt has your body shaking, the pressure building up in your core once more. you can't hold on much longer, not with him fucking you like this.

“slow down? you wanted this! running your fuckin’ leg up my thigh at a work dinner, touching me under the table like a desperate bitch—you want this, don't you? i bet you would've let me fuck you there. i could've bent you over that table and pounded your little cunt till you were screaming my name. and now, look at you—fucking pathetic. such a pretty face, such a nice little pussy” he moans loudly, "wrecked. all ruined. and all because of me."

he pulls your hair once more, forcing a strangled sob from your throat. the sound makes him chuckle. kento uses you as a ragdoll, pulling your hair, grabbing your waist, manhandling you like some cheap sex toy. it's fucking disgusting. he spanks you when you go limp, pulling your hair whenever you go quiet. and all you can do is take it. the pain is so delicious that you're not even thinking straight. you just want to be good for him.

he's mean. but you've never been this wet in your entire life. your body is writhing, begging for another release, and when kento’s fingers find your swollen clit, you nearly fall apart. his fingers rub tight circles against the bundle of nerves, sending a surge of pleasure up your calves. his hips stutter, and he's moaning louder.

your knees buckle, another slap. “stay up i won’t tell you again.”

he's so fucking close. the tip of his cock is battering the entrance to your womb, and the way his balls are slapping against your cunt is making you sob. he nearly blows his load in you when he presses a hand below your belly button, feeling his cock through your stomach. he curses, grabbing your hand and pressing it to the small bump.

"can you feel me, sweetheart? can you feel how deep i am? can you feel the bulge?" you can't respond, too fucked out to process the words. he lets go of your hair, instead using both hands to pin your arms above your head. his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “can’t even speak, sad.” he grunts, pressing sloppy wet kisses behind your ear.

you're his, all his. “mine, mine, mine.”

the way his teeth graze the skin of your neck has your eyes fluttering shut, a fresh set of tears rolling down your cheeks. you're a fucking mess, and kento nanami loves it. he can't help himself, not when your cunt is sucking him in like this. he's so close, so fucking close.

the pressure building in his abdomen becomes unbearable, and he lets out a strangled groan as his hips snap forward, his seed spilling into you. he doesn't slow down, not even as his cum overflows from your pussy, dribbling down your thighs.

"oh my god—oh my fucking god," he pants, his thrusts erratic. he's so deep inside of you, and the feeling of him painting your insides white has you on the verge of blacking out. he's filling you, stretching you, breeding you. it's too much.

his grip on your wrists going lax, you're completely boneless. the only thing keeping you from crumpling onto the floor is kento’s firm grip on your wrists. he lets go, and you fall to the ground. the only sounds that fill the air are the soft whimpers that escape your lips, and his heavy breathing.

he runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. he looks down at you, and the sight has his dick twitching.

you're a mess, his cum seeping from your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and dribbling down your thigh. the tear streaks running down your cheeks only make the scene more obscene. you're absolutely wrecked, and he's the one who did it. the thought has him grinning, and he crouches down to your level.

"you took me so well, baby girl," he purrs, tipping your chin upwards. his tone is surprisingly gentle, and you can't help but flush. his voice is a bit hoarse, a result of the noises he'd been making earlier. he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, admiring how fucked out you look. he can't wait to get his hands on you again.

[gloomwitchwrites]

GOOD MORNING POPPIE!, what if the reader decides to do the TikTok prank on 141 men where S/O snatched their phone wether at the car while hiding a camera to record their reaction (will the guys get worried because they're hiding something from their s/o? Who knows?

Not gonna lie, I originally read that as Poopie and I laughed about it for a solid fifteen minutes. Now, I love a good prank, especially if it’s one done with good intentions and no animosity or with ill-temperedness. So, while I love this idea, I am going to wiggle toward the more wholesome route for this one. Do I think they’re hiding something? Possibly, but not something bad.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, established relationship, domestic fluff

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John is relaxing in bed, phone in hand, earbuds in as he watches something intently. You jump in beside him, rolling over as a distraction, snagging his phone away as he turns in your direction.

“What are you doing?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion as you roll away and to the very edge of the bed.

“Checking to see if you’re hiding something,” you reply, giving the cord a little tug, the wired earbuds launching at you. You hop up and onto your feet.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” mumbles John.

“Oh yeah? Why? What are you—” You stare down at the screen for several solid seconds. Tapping it, you exit out of the episode John’s watching. “Why are you three episodes ahead on The Great British Bake Off?”

John shrugs. “Told you not to look.”

“John,” you say in your most mockingly serious tone. “This is grounds for divorce.”

He ignores you and continues on. “Want to know who they’ve eliminated so far?”

“Divorce, John.”

“You’ll be devasted. It’s—"

You toss the phone and earbuds back at him. “You’re really crushing my dreams of going on the show.”

“Dove,” he laughs. “You burn toast.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He’s looking through the mail, and his cellphone is next to him.

Circling behind him, you dart forward, snatching the phone off the counter.

Simon glances behind him. “Give that back,” he mutters, snatching the phone right out of your hands with such swiftness you jump.

“What?” you ask, adding a bit of attitude in your voice. “Have something to hide? Something you don’t want me to see?”

With the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard, Simon places his phone down next to him on the kitchen counter. He stands up straight, arms crossed over his chest. Leaning in slightly, Simon towers over you, staring down at you like he’s about to chastise a child that’s been caught sticking their hand in the cookie jar before dinner.

“That last time I gave you my phone,” he says slowly. “You ordered nearly three hundred pounds in Chinese takeaway.”

You purse your lips and conveniently glance over Simon’s shoulder so you don’t have to look him in the face. “To be fair, I was really hungry and wanted crab rangoon.”

Simon shakes his head and offers you the phone. “Stay off of fucking DoorDash.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle lounges in the living room on the sofa. You casually prowl over, plopping down next to him. He ignores you, tapping away on his phone. You wait a beat, and then reach over to snap the phone up.

“Excuse me,” says Kyle. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Checking to see if you’re hiding something from me.”

Kyle nods, playing along, foot tapping like he’s following a beat. “I have plenty to hide.”

Your head tilts slightly as you start opening apps. “Hm? Like what?”

“Cheating,” he says, deadpan.

You snort. “Okay. Sure. You—” Pausing, you gaze down at his screen, and then look up. “You sly dog.” You turn the phone around to show him the screen. “You are cheating.”

He shrugs, grinning. “Caught me.”

“Is this why you always beat me at Wordle?” you exclaim. “Because you’re using hints?”

Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, but he’s unable to hide the smile.

“You asshole!” you laugh, grabbing a nearby pillow and bringing it down on his head.

Kyle laughs too, arms raising to defend himself. A few more strikes and he wrestles the pillow from your hands, turning it around to use against you.

John "Soap" MacTavish

There’s a rugby match on the television. You and Johnny are reclined in bed, relaxing against the nest of pillows. Johnny is shirtless, wearing nothing but grey sweatpants. On his stomach, he balances his phone and an open bag of potato chips.

Glancing between him and your book, you conjure up a little idea. It’s harmless, really. Nothing all that significant.

With as much casualness as you can muster, you reach for Johnny’s cellphone. He jumps as your hand makes contact with his stomach. Johnny leans away from you, leaving the phone behind but snatching up the bag of crisps like it’s a life preserver.

“What are you doing?” asks Johnny, incredulous.

You shrug. “I wanted your phone. Take a look.”

Johnny shoves his hand inside the crisp bag. Digging around, he brings out a handful and shoves them into his mouth. Chewing for a moment, he shakes his head, tossing the phone into your lap. “Here. You can have it.”

“Johnny. You need to unlock it.”

With a grumble, he grabs it back, holds it up to his face, and then hands it to you.

“Thought you were going for my crisps,” he mutters, gaze returning to the television.

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[wibben]

Photogenic

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

Nanami does not like his picture taken.

It’s a shame, really, because he’s painfully and effortlessly photogenic. Even the begrudging shots – the ones taken mid-grimace or right as that frown of his settles in – turn out looking unfairly good.

You’d seen it firsthand. There was that one birthday dinner at Shoko’s, where she’d caught him mid-toast, glass raised and mouth sloping into a small, tolerant smile as she snapped a quick shot of the table. The photo looked like something out of a magazine ad, his cheeks warmed from the sake, his eyes a little brighter. But when she’d tried to show him, he shook his head with an unimpressed grunt.

Or the time Gojo had insisted on a group photo after a team mission. Gojo teased Kento into standing there, arms crossed and brow knitted in simmering annoyance, looking thoroughly put out. But somehow, he just looked like he was on the cover of GQ: chin tilted just right, sleeves rolled up perfectly, even his hair slightly tousled from the fight before. You might’ve whimpered a little when Kento insisted it be deleted (and maybe almost sobbed again with joy when Gojo refused).

No matter the context, Kento managed to look remarkable. And yet, he loathed each and every photo ever taken of him.

You couldn’t quite place where this aversion came from. Maybe a bad childhood haircut immortalized in an old family album, or one too many “just one more!”s from well-meaning friends. Either way, you’d mostly given up trying to capture him on camera. He existed as some sort of cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster: either you knew him in person, or he didn’t exist at all. But that hadn’t stopped Yuji – occasional agent of chaos – from sneaking in a few shots here and there. And that’s where your favorite picture of him came from.

You remember the day it was taken vividly. 

You’d insisted on a celebratory lunch for Yuji – a reward for a particularly tough job handled with flying colors (or, in short, because he’d actually listened to Kento’s instructions). Yuji joked his way through most of the meal, poking fun at everything from Kento’s meticulous folding of his napkin to his tactical approach to his plate, eating in the order of salad, then sides, then his main course. 

It had been right after you’d done… well, you couldn’t remember exactly what, as unremarkable as it was. Maybe a bad impression of Gojo, maybe a terrible joke. But whatever it was, Kento broke, his shoulders dropping as he graced the table with a genuine, unrestrained laugh that only you seemed capable of pulling out of him. Yuji had been quick to draw, snapping the photo before either of you noticed. 

Later, Yuji sent it to you with a sly grin. “Mrs. Nanami’s gotta have the good stuff,” he’d whispered, nudging you as he tilted his phone towards you. 

You stared, speechless, your heart doing a little stammering skip. There it was – Kento, your Kento, laughing, his shoulders relaxed, the faint lines by his eyes softened by that rare brightness in his gaze as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it; you’d immediately favorited it the moment it hit your inbox, tucked it into a private album, and maybe, possibly, looked at it embarrassingly often.

A few weeks later, though not remotely forgotten to you, it remained blissfully unknown to him.

One evening as you flipped through your camera roll, Kento leaned over the back of the couch, his arm bracing himself as he studied the photos of the fancy dinner the two of you had recently gone to. You’d taken more than one, trying to capture every detail of the delicate plating at his insistence so he could try and recreate it at home.

“Do you have a close-up of that risotto?” he asked, leaning in closer, his arm casually wound around the front of your chest and his breath drifting soft feathers across your cheek. “I want to see how they plated it.”

You nodded with an affirmative hum, flipping back a few photos – only to scroll back just a bit too far and that picture fills your screen, in all of it’s HD, no-longer-secret glory.

Your heart tripped as Kento’s gaze landed on it. You felt the warmth of his presence beside you grow a bit more rigid as he examined the photo, brows raising ever so slightly.

“...That isn’t dinner,” he remarked, clearing his throat beside your ear.

“Oh! That’s, um, just a… candid,” you stumbled, trying desperately for nonchalance. “Yuji took it, and it’s a really nice picture and I don’t have many, so I just…” your efforts to play it cool are skillfully undone by the plucking of your nerves… self-imposed, of course, because Kento remains quiet.

But he was still looking at it, brows drawing together as he studied it with a rare, quiet intensity.

“You favorited it,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to you.

His voice was low, gentle, but you stewed with nervousness all the same. “Well, I mean – look at you!” you laughed, feeling shy under his gaze, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “The only pictures I have of you smiling are from our wedding! Let me have this–”

Kento plucked the phone from your hands and you screeched, immediately trying to claw it back. “Wait, don’t delete it!” you laughed, a cauldron of nerves and panic bubbling in your chest as he holds it just out of reach of your swiping hands, his mouth curving in that calm way it always does. You’re sure he’s about to grumble about “nonsense” or “unnecessary photos” or “living in the moment.”

But he didn’t delete it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and held your phone closer to his face, gazing down at the screen with a gentleness that stopped your protests cold. You caught the flicker of something tender in his eyes as he studied the photo – lingering on you, the way you lean toward him, how happy you look together.

He was silent for a moment, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Then, almost shyly, “Could you… send it to me?”

You felt your eyebrows lift to be lost in your hairline, staring at him as if he’d just asked for the moon. “You… you want me to send it?”

He nodded. “Yes. I think I’d like to keep it.”

Your heart did a little stutter, a flash of warmth rushing to your face as you quickly sent him the photo. You didn’t think your grin could get any wider – but it did as you watched him save it, his expression somewhere between fond and exasperated, like he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here, holding on to a picture of himself simply because it had been yours.

The next morning, with toothbrush in hand and foam dripping down your chin, you checked your phone and blinked, frozen in the middle of a brushstroke. That picture – that picture – was staring back at you as his profile picture, right there on the one or two social media accounts he’d reluctantly made but never actually used. You barely resisted the urge to squeal.

And then, later that day, it happened again: catching the briefest flash of his phone screen across the kitchen table, you saw the photo on his lock screen too. He looked up, catching your wide-eyed staring with a soft smile, one that was just for you, and undeniably better than any picture could ever be.

[jiminiecrickets]

PRIMADONNA. GOJO SATORU / M!READER

summary. the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach – in more than one way.

wc. 9k

tags. smut | dom top reader, sub bottom gojo, husbands gojo/reader, teacher reader. anniversary sex, "sir" for reader + "puppy" for gojo, oral (r. receiving), praise + degradation (gojo receiving), humping, riding, light s/m, bondage (wrists), overstimulation + multiple orgasms (gojo), belly bulge + size kink, crying, off-screen gojo in lingerie

"Satoru."

You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

"If I don't get delayed, I'll be returning at night after my mission. It's a long plane ride back, so don't stay up for me, alright?"

Satoru was miffed, to say the least. How dare they steal away his husband on such short notice? You barely had time to pack a suitcase. And worst of all? It coincided with your anniversary.

For the first time in ten years, he would be spending that day alone. He wanted to be angry – angry at those spineless geezers cooped up in that musty room – but all he could really feel was disappointment. You'd been an anchor for so long that he felt listless without you by his side, throwing the weight of your name behind his whenever he did something he thought was right.

Whatever. At least he woke up to a 'happy anniversary' voice message from you that morning.

"An exponential is a function of the form f of x equals a to the power of x, where a cannot equal one, zero, or anything less than zero. You'll want to note down these eight laws on the board. I'd recommend putting them in a table at the top of a page so you don't have to go flipping for them in exams. I'll go through them one at a time."

Satoru drops the white stick of chalk for a pale blue one, which he then uses to scrawl a line of numbers in a blank space on the left side of the blackboard. "So – a to the x, a to the y equals a to the x plus y. This is a biggie! You'll see it a lot. When bases a are the same and the terms are multiplied, the exponents are added. Added. Don't multiply them."

"Sensei!" Yuji's hand shoots up into the air. "Why aren't they multiplied?"

"Great question!" He glances over the board, then erases a large chunk of old numbers in one fell swoop. Nobara stops writing immediately with an odd expression and Satoru laughs, waving a hand as if to dissipate her troubles. "You can copy off Megumi's notes for that example, Kugisaki. Just leave a space for it."

He continues, "Now, Yuji, we remember that an exponential is multiplying the base by itself a certain number of times, yes? Let's use two raised to the power of three. That's two times two times two. Now, if you have two to the power of four, that's two by two by two by two. Phew, what a mouthful. Are we tracking?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good! We'll multiply these terms now. Wait!" He raises a finger and splits the two strings of numbers into two sets of brackets. "Putting these brackets here to separate the terms for clarity... Anyway – because the base number, two, is being multiplied over and over—" He slashes a little multiplication sign between the two brackets. "Ta-da! You've got two multiplied by itself seven times, so the answer is two to the power of seven. Therefore, you can skip this whole process in your written answers and just add the powers! Yay!"

"That's crazy."

"When it clicks, it clicks, right?" Satoru snaps his fingers, and to Yuji's left, Megumi snaps out of staring out of the window. "No slacking, Megumi! I can see you daydreaming over there."

"Kinda hard not to with only three students," Nobara mutters under her breath. At least when she dozes off, it's not with her head turned ninety degrees and propped on a fist. Seriously – it's like Megumi never learnt to nap discreetly at the back of the class. Come to think of it, she's certain he's never hidden earbuds under his hair, either.

"Sorry," he murmurs nonchalantly. "I'm not a maths person."

"Megumi, you're tearing me apart."

He shrugs.

"Since what you're doing is obviously more important than listening to your awesome teacher, would you like to share with the class?" Satoru drawls with a shit-eating grin. He sets the chalk aside, dusting off his hands, and leans over his desk, hands flat and forming a triangle with his thumbs and forefingers. "Is there a girl, Megumi-chan? A boy? Ah, a teenager's first love – I still remember mine as if it were yesterday..."

"Cut it out, you're not that old." Megumi glances outside again. Satoru follows his line of sight, but nothing stands out to him. "There was a guy on campus. Looked like a weirdo."

"Oh, for the love of – do you not remember what a finger to the lips means?"

Behind his blindfold, Satoru's eyes shoot open. It's uncomfortable, but so is his face-splitting smile, so wide it hurts his jaw.

None of that matters. He explodes with joy.

"Baby!" he squeals. He launches himself with the speed of a fastball at the person standing in the doorway. It's a miracle nobody goes crashing through the opposite wall.

"You're back, you're back," Satoru coos, burying his face in your shoulder and squeezing your middle so tightly that your spine pops. "Oh, man, you have no idea how much I missed you!"

You laugh, a little wheezy from having the air knocked out of your lungs, and pat his back. A ring glints on your finger. He presses himself deeper into you and you have to brace to stop yourself from toppling over. You close your eyes and inhale the soft floral scent of his hair, which draws out all the tension in your body. Lord knows you've accumulated a lot of it recently.

"There, there," you hum, gently grasping the back of his neck to peel him off you. For the first time, you get a good look at him. He hangs from the nape of his jacket like a kitten, a big dumb grin on his face. His pale cheeks are flushed, and your heart races a little from his sheer excitement. It's flattering.

What a sweetheart.

"We can talk later," you murmur with a smile, setting him down on flat feet. "Just wanted to stop by to drop off your lunch."

He glances down at the lunchbox-sized insulated bag in your hand. He accepts it gently, cradling it like gold. "My lunch...?"

"Mm, that's right. I hate to imagine how you fared without me." You slip a hand into the pocket of your pants. "I'll cook tonight, okay? Anyway, that's all. Toodle-oo."

"Wait!" Yuji slams his hands against his desk as his chair screeches against the ground. "Did I hear that right? Did sensei call you 'baby'?"

"Yes," you say, and Satoru's heart flutters at the pride in your voice. "You must be Itadori Yuji, and you must be Kugisaki Nobara. Satoru spoke of you often. Nice to finally meet you – I'm Satoru's husband."

Nobara replies in kind with a little bow and a polite greeting. Megumi's the only one still sitting, sheltering his eyes with his hand as if he can hide from the inevitable embarrassment. She turns to Satoru with an accusing glare, her hands on her hips. "No way you scored a guy like that with your personality! What'd you do, huh? Promise him money?"

"He hasn't even introduced himself yet and you're already taking his side?" Satoru whines, both of his arms wrapped around your own.

"I can tell that he's a respectable and dutiful man. You, however..."

"I mean, opposites attract, right?" Yuji offers kindly.

"Yuji! Are you saying I'm not a respectable person?" He huffs. "I'm telling Suguru to work you guys twice as hard tomorrow morning. Ridiculous..."

Nobara jabs an accusing finger at him. "You're ridiculous. Which is why I'm so shocked that anyone with any sense would marry you."

"Thrice as hard."

"Easy," you murmur to Satoru fondly. "But he's right about one thing. I haven't introduced myself properly. My name is YN Gojo-LN. You'll have me as a teacher next year. Call me LN-sensei – helps avoid the confusion."

Satoru tugs on your sleeve with a pout. "C'mon... I like it when you use my name. They're not gonna get confused by it. After all, I am the prettier one."

"Hard disagree, sensei," Nobara says flatly.

You smile as Satoru presses himself further into your side, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, darling. You're plenty good-looking to me."

"You think so?"

"I know so, my beautiful little lily," you say affectionately, pinching his cheek. He holds your hand to his cheek, leaning into it, and Nobara nearly gags at the dopey expression on Satoru's face and the way his leg kicks up behind him like a schoolgirl with a crush. She glances at Megumi with disbelief written on her face and jabs a thumb over her shoulder. He nods solemnly as you coo over Satoru, your voice light and bouncy like a summer breeze.

You turn your attention back to the three first-years, all looking far more attentive after their break from staring at slanting strings of numbers. "It was lovely to meet you – and good to see you, too, Megumi, I can see you slouching there – but Satoru is only one-out-of-eight exponential laws explained. I'm not about to be the cause of bad grades. Ciao, everyone."

Reluctantly, Satoru unfolds himself from around you, and you're quite surprised. You'd think he'd fight harder to keep—

He seizes your wrist in a steely grip and drags you out into the hall. He shuts the door on his students' exclamations.

Immediately, he collapses into your chest, rather more raw and vulnerable than earlier. You wrap your arms around him and coo into his ear, cupping the back of his neck. He sighs, short and sharp and a little shaky, and his breath puffs against your collarbone.

"I was worried I'd lose you," he whispers, hands gliding all over your body as if to prove to himself that you're all still there, warm and complete and ready to embrace him. "Those damn idiots, taking you from me. Especially at a time like this..."

"Relax, dearie," you hum, and the old nickname makes his lips twitch upwards. "I was your equal for a while. I won't keel over so easily."

"You took on two special grades at once and went in ill-prepared because they couldn't do their damn jobs. How am I supposed to trust them when they can't even count to two?"

"Then trust me," you implore, cupping his cheek. He's always been thin, but you're glad you're back. Maybe he'll be less cranky with some meat in his stomach. "Always said we'd get through this together, didn't we? That includes dealing with the elders. I've got your back, but let's not make problems now – not when we have Yuji to look after."

He sighs and pushes his cheek into your shoulder a little harder, rubbing his face into you like a cat. His hair tickles your cheek. His grip tightens, then loosens. "Ugh. You're crampin' my style. Rebellion suits me."

"Obedience suits you better," you murmur lowly, and Satoru shivers at the timbre of your voice. Your hand slips down to cup his chin, lifting his face to yours. His breath hitches. "Listen to me, Satoru. You know I'm right."

He exhales shakily as you dip your head, lips brushing his. He leans into it, trying to take more, but you turn away. "But—"

"Satoru."

Heat zings up his spine. Your nails dig slightly into his skin and he swallows harshly, burning up under the weight of your gaze. Half condescending and half tender, you rake your stare over him from head to toe. It lasts no longer than a second but Satoru's knees weaken anyway.

"Just don't do anything without me," you whisper, bringing his face closer to yours. You press your lips to his and he fists the front of your shirt tightly, gasping as your free hand glides down his waist to rest on the small of his back. He arches slightly and tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

He tastes like sugar and oranges and despite the not-so-sweet flavour of the coffee you had earlier, he devours you as if his life depends on it, tongue twisting with yours. He moans softly at the smoky roasted taste, dark and rich. Even after all these years, he marvels at how perfectly he matches with you – the yin to your yang, the shrike to your thorn. He'd be missing out any other way.

His heartbeat quickens. You can feel it beneath his ribs, his chest pressed to yours, and even through his thick clothes you can feel him yearn for you – the very essence of his bright soul twists and tumbles, reaching for yours. He is the orchid to your oak and just as needy.

Before you forget yourself and get too handsy in the middle of the school hallway, you draw away, tugging your hands back to your sides. Satoru whines softly with the loss of your touch and your lips on his. He lifts his face, lips pursed into a pout as he chases another kiss. You press a finger against his lips with a chuckle.

"Not yet, Satoru. You still haven't promised me."

He pushes your hand away impatiently. "Promise." He puckers up and leans in again.

You click your tongue and grab a fistful of his hair, keeping him at bay the same way you would with an overly-affectionate cat. You lift a brow. "And what are you promising?"

He groans, and you know he's rolling his eyes under his blindfold. "That I'm not gonna make trouble for us. I promise I won't square up against a bunch of geriatrics. Happy, baby? Can I get my kiss, now?"

"Only one more." You dip in, and Satoru hums appreciatively. You open your eyes again with a tiny smile. "There. Now, off you go. You have maths to teach, nerd."

"You're a nerd," he rebuts automatically. "You don't have to leave, y'know. Just sit in the back, like the principal does."

"I'd just be a distraction for you."

"But you'd make me happy. Come on. It's our anniversary."

"The answer's no, Satoru." You smile, tugging his hair gently, and his head feels light. He understands why they call it lovesick. "G'luck, sweetheart."

His bottom lip juts out and he crosses his arms, glancing aside. He ruffles his hair roughly as if to drag himself out of his own thoughts. "Fine... Will I see you later?"

"Mm. I'll take a nap when I get home and then start on dinner. I was thinking something Thai?" You touch his shoulder and he shivers slightly, fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist. It's endearing how infatuated he is with you. You fix his blindfold, smoothing out the sides. "Get home safely, Satoru."

"Yessir." He darts in one last time, sneaking in one last kiss on the cheek. He grins, playful and flushed, as you grumble something about being an 'enabler'. You lift a hand and begin to turn away.

When you're halfway down the hall, he calls out, "You better make it up to me, hot stuff!"

"You're spoilt enough as it is," you call back, eyes crinkling. "Toodles!"

Satoru hums a little tune under his breath as he steps back into the classroom, sliding the door closed behind him. There's a bounce in his step as he moves towards his desk, hovering over a textbook and flipping forward a few pages to find new equations to throw up on the board.

After a pause, with Satoru's soft humming the only thing filling the room, Nobara finally breaks the silence.

"So, sensei... are you gonna tell us what that was all about?"

He glances up, a clueless smile on his face. "Eh? What was what about?"

She stares, appalled. "Uh, the fact that you're married? To the coolest-looking guy I've seen here? He must really be something if he's got you wrapped around his finger like that..."

Megumi sits up in his seat, picking up his pen and ruler and busying himself with ruling new margins into his blank pages. "He's not much better than Gojo, Kugisaki. Together, they're both total fools."

"How can he be more of a fool than he already is?"

"You never mentioned a partner, Gojo-sensei," Yuji says, having clearly abandoned any notion of learning. His notebook isn't even open anymore. "How'd you meet?"

"I didn't take you for a romantic, Yuji," Satoru coos, though he tosses his piece of chalk onto the blackboard's ledge and dusts off his hands. He circles the desk to sit back against it, clasping his hands with a wide smile. "We met here, actually! He's older than me, and he was the one who gave me a campus tour and showed me my room. He was just as handsome back then as he is now. I liked hanging out with him a lot."

Yuji's eyes are wide with intrigue. "Oh! Were you high-school sweethearts? That's so neat, sensei!"

"In a way," he replies, voice soft with fondness. "At first, it was a political marriage. He has an influential name and a uniquely powerful technique, so our families thought it was a good idea to pair us up so the other clans would be less likely to stand against our decisions. We became good friends, so we grew to be alright with it – we were basically already living in each other's rooms, anyway. Marrying him meant I could eat his curry more often, so I was honestly pretty eager to move in with him after graduating."

"Really? You seemed like the type of person to be bad with spice," Nobara comments, tilting her chair on its back legs. "Guess I was wrong."

Leaning back, Megumi speaks around Yuji's body. "No, he is. LN-san often makes two dishes – one with spice, one without. He started when I was a kid, but he still does it for Gojo."

Nobara clicks her tongue. "What? Seriously – he's way too good for you, sensei! I can't believe this. The idea that someone like you had a boyfriend at my age when I don't... I'm, like, actually upset."

"I mean, I also gained two children shortly after, so maybe you should wait a bit for a boyfriend, Kugisaki," Satoru says thoughtfully, tapping his chin. Megumi's face reddens at the statement and his knuckles turn white around his pen.

"Don't say that," he scoffs. "Your marriage had nothing to do with the two of us!"

Pouting, Satoru wags a finger in his direction. "So rude, Megumi-chan! I'm telling your dad. No curry for you for a month."

He rolls his eyes and his mouth curls. "You're annoying."

Nobara snorts and hides her snickers behind her palm. She leans in Yuji's direction and whispers, "Guess he's got a favourite parent."

He nods in agreement. Clearing his throat, Yuji dutifully raises his hand, looking grave. "Sensei, if you're married, why don't you wear a ring?"

"Hm? I do! Wanna see it? Oh, of course you do, you asked," he says cheerfully. He thrusts a hand down the tall neck of his collar and pulls out a silver chain, off of which hangs a platinum band studded with tiny, glittering diamonds. He beams, turning the pretty little thing this way and that to catch the light. "His is more traditional, 'cause he's a fuddy-duddy, but silver suits my skin tone better and diamonds are a classic."

He unclasps the chain from around his neck, and Yuji and Nobara instantly shoot up out of their chairs to inspect the ring closer. They ooh and ahh over it, discussing the bevels and facets and whatnot. He slips the band onto his left hand and shows it off with a beaming smile, nodding proudly when Nobara remarks how well it really does suit him.

"Why is your face so red, Gojo?"

The abrupt question is Megumi's. Like clockwork, everyone turns to him, then turns to Satoru. In response, he only tilts his head with an oblivious smile pasted on his face – his white hair flops over, like a dog's ears. "Eh?"

Megumi sighs and lowers his gaze, scratching tornadoes aimlessly into the margins of his page. "You're terrible – it was two months, not two years. The separation anxiety is crazy."

"He does seem like the type to be clingy," Nobara whispers to Yuji.

"It's not sepa—he thinks it's cute!" he sputters, lifting his bejewelled ring finger as if it's his middle finger. "Look – he married me for it! Jeez, Megumi, you really know how to make a guy feel bad. And you know what that means."

Megumi's face scrunches. "You're gonna follow him around the house like a lost puppy for the rest of the day."

"Right you are!" says Satoru giddily. "I'm sorta disappointed you don't live with us right now. I could've made it so much worse for you if you and YN went out in public. You'd be begging to learn about exponential and logarithmic functions then."

He turns towards the board and claps his hands, startling all three of his students as the sound echoes through the room. "Speaking of! Rule number two: power x over y with identical base a is equal to a to the x minus y. Back in your seats, boys and girl – I hope everyone's awake now. Let's power through every rule before class ends! Heh – geddit? Power? Because – oh, you're all no fun. I'm funny. Let's continue."

—

With a jingle of keys, Satoru twirls through the front door. "Honey, I'm hooome!"

Your voice floats through the hallway. "In the kitchen!"

He kicks his shoes off and dumps his messenger bag onto the couch. He bounds into the spacious kitchen and slithers up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

With a chuckle, you take half a step back from the open flame of the stove. "Careful. It's hot."

"Not hotter than you." His voice is muffled against your shoulder. "Didja miss me?"

"Only a little bit. You are a handful." You stir the pot, picking shards of bone out of the broth. Satoru salivates. He can already feel the tender meat falling off the bone. "You're home early, baby. Dinner won't be ready for a while."

"Rushed back to see you." He kisses your neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of your cologne is heady and woodsy, and he's embarrassed to admit that he's used it on himself when the ache really got to him. "Maybe we can... spend some time together...?"

You laugh, the sound rumbling through your chest, and Satoru smiles automatically. "Eager little thing. You really want to do that now, when I'm obviously very busy?"

"Well, the veggies aren't a pressing concern," he points at the covered bowl, "and the soup's not done. Put it on low and you have both hands free to do things with me."

"And what 'things' would that entail, Satoru?"

"Fun things." He pushes his blindfold up, revealing his startling blue eyes. He looks up at you through his white lashes, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. "Things involving this," he points at his lips, "and this." He points at yours.

Because your hands are damp from dealing with the vegetables, you can't touch him, but you turn and lean in his direction and he drapes his arms over your shoulders. You hum, taking in his beauty like an old-timey knight with his secret lover. "Sounds a bit boring, honestly. We did that earlier. Any other ideas?"

His eyes widen with betrayal. "What—? Fine! This—" his lips "—and this." His hand lowers to the zip of your jeans, brushing over the front. His tongue flickers over his lower lip as he glances down, as if he's imagining it already, and you struggle to keep your composure. His eyes lift to yours. "Yeah?"

You draw in a breath. "Nah. You don't last long enough for that."

"Mou," he whines, brows furrowing, "I can! Just let me show you – y'know, I've been practicing. I've definitely gotten better."

"Whore," you mutter affectionately, slipping out of his arms to wash your hands. You tug your sleeves higher and Satoru sighs dreamily at the sight, cupping his cheek. "You seriously want to do this now? I could burn down the house on accident."

"Yes, I wanna do it now," he huffs, hooking a slender finger beneath his blindfold, as if showing off how long and pretty they are. "The house is insured."

"You – You're ridiculous, baby." You dry your hands and face him properly, gaze flickering over his body. He squirms slightly, fidgeting with his collar. "Hm... Suppose I say yes. What would you do?"

"Ah," he breathes, stepping closer. He places his hands on your chest, pretending to fix your collared shirt, and you rest one on his hip, tugging him in. He flashes you a flustered smile as he bumps into you. "Well, I'd, um – I'd kiss it."

"Mm."

"And I'd... lick the tip, 'nd..." He shakes his head and headbutts your shoulder, eyes squeezing shut with an embarrassed titter. "Babe, don't make me say it! I'll show you, okay? I'll show you how much I missed you. Spoilers: it's a lot."

"Well, when you put it like that..." You dial down the stovetop's heat until the flame is all but gone. Satoru's grin widens. "I'm interested."

He smirks and pecks your cheek, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the kitchen. He pushes you down on the couch in the living room, taking a moment to shuck off his jacket and tug his shirt hem out from his beltline. He drapes himself over your lap, long legs bracketing yours, and places his hands on your shoulders.

Naturally, your hands come to rest upon his thighs.

He pauses. Have your hands always looked so large compared to him...? He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. His cock stirs in his tight pants.

You lean back with a soft sigh, stroking his thighs absently. Your touch borders on his ass when it shifts up his hips and his breath hitches. You lift a brow, seemingly unaware of his racing heart. "So? Now what?"

"Shut up," he mumbles, reaching to help pull your t-shirt over your head. "Just admiring my hubby, y'know? Most would be flattered. You're mean for no reason."

"A second ago you were ready to jump my bones." You allow him to toss the shirt on the couch beside you, and his hands run appreciatively down your chest and stomach. "Let's go back to that."

"Yessir," he says breathily. He meant it teasingly, but it comes out with a slight tremor in the middle. His cheeks flush as you grab the front of his shirt and drag him towards you.

He whimpers softly as you press his ass down against your lap, his lips trapped against yours. He rocks his hips. The half-hard bulge in your pants demands his attention, and he moans your name as you pop open his shirt roughly, hands exploring his soft, smooth skin.

"Excited, are we?" you murmur, nibbling the side of his neck. The wet heat of your tongue makes him shiver, nails digging into your shoulders.

"S-Says you," he retorts, gasping softly as your callused fingers find his nipples, cute and pink. He jerks, stomach tensing, and reaches for your belt shakily, undoing it defiantly. "Not f-fair. Fuck, be gentle..."

You shake your head, exhaling softly as Satoru manages to fish you out of your open fly. Your length slaps his wrist. "We can be gentle or we can be done in time for dinner. Your choice."

Twitching as you flick his chest again, he whimpers. "You..."

"I?"

He gulps, blue eyes trained on the thick cock in his hands. He grips the base and twists his fist up and down the shaft, brushing his thumb over the slick slit. You groan softly, switching your attention to the other side of his neck. He tilts his head with a tremulous sigh, allowing you better access to his fair skin.

"I really did miss you, you know," he says quietly, stroking you to full mast. "Your smile, your body next to mine when I wake up... and this cock. Nothing's better than your cock."

With a chuckle, you squeeze his hips, feeling them twitch under your grip. Cute – sensitive. "Yeah? My pretty doll missed my cock?"

"Mhm. Tried other things while you were away." He shuffles off your lap, sliding between your knees with ease. He gazes up at you, one hand on your thigh and one hand on your cock, and licks his lips, glancing away. His cheeks are red. "But nothing can get me off like you can. You always fill me up so good, always treat me right..."

He leans forward, wrapping his pink lips around the head of your cock. His eyes flutter shut and his tongue swirls around your slit – the taste of your precome curls a ball of arousal in his lower belly, and he widens his knees slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn't help.

"Fuck, Satoru," you murmur, combing your fingers through his silver hair. His blindfold acts as a headband for his bangs, and you're afforded a full view of his creased concentrated brows and his wide-blown pupils. He bobs his head, thick lashes fluttering against his cheekbones, and swallows several inches of your cock.

But that's as far as he gets before he gags and pulls back, gasping wetly as his pale chest heaves. Nervously, he glances up at you, only to grow more desperate at the lazy grin on your face.

You prop your cheek on a fist. "What was that about improvement, Satoru? Seems about the same to me."

His frown deepens. "It's not my fault! You're just—"

"Excuses don't befit you."

His jaw snaps shut audibly. He reaches forward, taking your cock in both hands, and spits on it, smearing it down your length. You hum softly as he takes the tip into his hot mouth again, and his tongue flicks against the glans hungrily.

His nails dig into your thigh as he regulates his breathing, slowly bobbing his head down half of your length.

You have to hand it to him – he's gotten quicker at getting to this point. Still, he's shuddering, and he's clearly a mess, eyes glistening and lips slick with saliva. He looks small, shoulders pulled in, and so, so pretty as he chokes down your cock, determined to do it right.

"Oh, Satoru," you purr sympathetically, petting his hair. "Nearly thirty and you still can't suck cock to save your life... what'll I do with you?"

He pulls back with a slick pop, eyes wide and glossy. His voice is hoarse. "N-No, I can! I can, I promise, j-just let me try again—"

"You're my good boy, aren't you?"

The words die in his mouth. Head foggy, he nods, throat bobbing as he stares up at you.

You stroke his cheek, smiling softly as he leans into it and kisses your palm. "Let me fuck your mouth. Maybe your toys are just too small to be of any real help, huh?"

Ashamed, Satoru swallows, picking at his shirt cuffs. He inclines his head a few degrees, barely a nod, but he allows you to gently guide his mouth around your cock once more. He wanted to show you how much he loved you, how you wouldn't have to do all the work anymore, but there was something so addicting about the way you controlled his body that he was a little glad to have failed. His eyes slide closed as you grip the back of his neck and hold back his bangs, guiding your cock down his throat.

He moans softly, his own dick throbbing inside his pants as you hit the back of his throat. He swallows around it dutifully, grasping your thighs for balance as you pull him down on your cock.

"Good boy. That's it. Such a good boy f'me." Your voice is a low murmur, flowing in one ear and out the other. Satoru whines quietly, the vibrations making you groan, and saliva drips down your shaft. You lean back and lift your hips slightly, pushing into his mouth.

He gags slightly but settles quickly, tongue gliding against the velvety veins of your dick. Your grip on him is firm but gentle – if you let go, he'd slump like a ragdoll against your leg, no doubt about it. He rocks his hips pathetically against nothing, whimpering as you fuck his throat, and you take pity – you shift your leg between his knees.

He fists your jeans, knuckles white, and moans as he grinds against your leg, his cock throbbing against his zipper. His whimpers sound broken, choppy, in a way you recognise as gratefulness. Thank you, thank you. Your dick pulses and he swallows, drooling and panting with his lips stretched white around you. He swallows greedily around you, the shape of your cock distending his slender throat.

"It's okay," you hum, brushing the tears from the corner of his eye. "You don't need to do anything. Not when I'm here. You just need to be my pretty puppy, yeah? Let me take care of everything. I got you."

A rough shudder runs through his body. He shoves his cock against your leg. He twitches, hips jerking involuntarily, and you can't help the fondness in your voice when you coo at him.

"Oh, sweetheart..."

Carefully, you pull him off of you, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he pants, eyes clouded and hazy. His grasp on your leg tightens as you lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Poor thing. Must be pretty pent up, huh?" You pull him up, and it takes a moment for him to find his balance. You tug his slacks down his hips, but the square something in his back pocket gives you pause. You dip two fingers inside and pull out a black packet.

"Condoms?" You glance up at Satoru, who looks anywhere but at you. "You planned this, didn't you? Dirty puppy."

He wrings his hands, finding his voice. "I-I'm sorry... I just – it's our anniversary, 'n' I thought—"

"You thought you'd be cute," you finish for him, and he nods with a soft pout. You reach in again and pull out another. And another. It's a row of them, separated by perforated tear lines, and his face grows red as you lift a disbelieving brow at them. You let the string of them hang from your fingers like a grocery receipt.

"Satoru... How many of these do you think we need?"

"I don't know! I'd rather be safe than sorry."

You chuckle and lean forward, pressing a kiss against his stomach. He cups the back of your head, slender fingers playing with your hair absently. "You're too cute. Wanna put one on for me?"

"You just like it when I touch you," he mumbles, but accepts the little square. He kicks off his slacks and underwear and takes a seat on your lap, tearing the packet open with his teeth at the same time. His eyes flick up to yours as he slides it down your shaft, his hands warm and pretty wrapped around you. He squeezes – you groan softly – and he whispers, "All done."

"Thank you, baby." You stroke his hips. He giggles in response.

"You can put it in," he murmurs, squeezing your shoulders as he leans forward and aligns your tip with his entrance. "I... Last night..."

"Hm." You watch him rub the tip against his hole – psyching himself up for it, you realise with a smile. "Was that before or after our call?"

His grip tightens. "Ah... After."

"Yeah?" Your smile takes on a dangerous edge and he gulps. "So, when you said you missed me..."

"S-Stop teasing me," he demands, his voice lilting with a whine. His brow furrows and he lowers himself on your cock, gasping as the head breaches his hole. The lube makes the glide easier, but the delicious burn of the stretch has his eyes fluttering and rolling back. The warmth... he's missed this. A toy couldn't have him shaking on his knees on the first thrust. Pain makes tears prick at his eyes. "Ohh, god..."

Satoru braces both hands against your shoulders, his toes curling in his black socks. He whimpers softly as you lean forward, pressing your chests together, in order to ease your cock deeper inside him. He rocks his hips, shallow and jagged, and presses his lips fervently to yours as he drops his hips and takes you all the way down to the base.

Tears prick at his eyes and he moans, long and loose and relieved. Your cock rests perfectly against his prostate, hot and thick, and every minuscule shift of his body has you rubbing deliciously against it. His cock throbs, dusky against his alabaster skin. His stomach flexes.

"Good?" you whisper, hot breath fanning against his throat. He shudders and nods, reaching back and spreading his asscheeks to swallow you deeper. His head falls to your shoulder as he lifts and lowers his hips messily, lips parted to gasp and pant softly.

You take over, hands big and rough on the creamy meat of his ass. There are new calluses on your palms, and a shard of annoyance cuts its way into the pleasured fog of Satoru's mind. Trying to appoint you clan leader through marriage – and therefore safe from the nuisance of arduous missions – had backfired fantastically, and now all those old coots know how much you mean to him.

Like, what was the point of marrying you to each other if you both still had to do the dirty work? Why couldn't he, as the strongest and least likely to complete the paperwork, simply come home to your kisses? You might hate him for making you do all the accounting and logistical work, but at least you'd be safe. He's very good at shoulder massages. The occasional assassin would be like swatting a fly to you.

"Sweetheart," you croon, snapping him out of his stewing displeasure. You grasp his chin in your hand and turn his face to yours, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. He hums softly. "What's wrong?"

"I want you to be here every day," he whispers, pressing his cheek against yours. "Don't wanna have to make up for lost time like this. Drives me crazy."

"Oh, puppy... I know. But hey," you say, thrusting up into him and making him gasp, "you're hot when you're needy. And I'm all too willing to indulge you."

He clenches down around you. His cock twitches. "Mm, really? We could try using up all those condoms..."

You roll your eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"What does that – ah!"

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as you thrust up roughly into him and drag him down at the same time, his ass slapping your hips. He scrambles to brace himself, his cock dripping a weak spurt of precome on his stomach. His chest heaves, his face flushed and his eyes wide. His eyes are blown with lust, deep ocean-blue, and his lip quivers as you repeat it, fucking up into his soft, eager little hole hungrily.

Satoru pants, breaths rough and uneven, as he tries his best to ride your cock. But with every thrust, you slam against his prostate and knock the thoughts out of his skull. He stutters and moans, trying to repeat himself – because really, what do you mean he's incorrigible? – but you've got a wicked grin on your face that spells nothing but trouble for him.

"W-Wait," he squeaks out, arms trembling as he tries to hold himself up on your chest. "I'll—!"

"Come for me," you grunt, rolling his hips on your cock in a way that has his vision blooming with stars. "Lemme see you, Satoru. Let me see you, puppy."

He lets out a loud, sharp whine as his body jerks and his cock spurts, painting your stomach with thick ropes of white. The flush of his cheeks extends down his neck and chest, prettily pink, and he collapses against your chest, lazily rolling his hips and riding out his high.

Cooing his name softly, you pet his hair, which he melts into like pudding. His hum is like a purr when your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Good boy... so gorgeous when you come, aren't you? Did so well for me, sweetheart."

You begin to tug his blindfold down, as the rapid flickering of his eyes betrays how overwhelmed he is, but he shakes his head, nudging your hand to instead pull it off.

"No," he whines, raising his bright, flitting eyes to your face. They steady when they focus on your face, and his features soften. "Wanna see you. All of you." He exhales, a little shaky. "You still haven't finished."

"It'll be too much for you. Let's stop here."

He scowls. "How do you know that?"

"I—"

"Yeah, that's right. You don't. I can keep going." He lifts himself up on his knees until just the tip rests inside him, then drops back down. He swallows a whimper. "S-See? M'fine!"

Your brow furrows slightly as you hold him still. "Satoru—"

"Please," he interrupts, eyes wide and pleading. "Baby, please, I can do it. Want you to come, too, okay? I want to – because I love you."

You didn't think sudden love confessions in the middle of sex could be so hot.

A breathless grin makes its way across his lips when you glance away and sigh, your hands tightening on his waist. It's the perfect place to grab, slim and fitting just right against your palms. He places his hand against your stomach between his legs, arching his back ever so slightly.

"Well," you drawl, shifting slightly. His breath hitches as your cock brushes his prostate. "Then maybe you could show me how much you love me."

"You—" He lets out a bitten moan as you move his hips, helping him grind against you. "Baby."

In response, you only offer a smirk, eyes glinting.

He sighs shakily and nods, leaning back and bracing against your knees. The position tightens him up and you groan, head tipping back against the couch backrest. He traces shallow ovals over your lap, his hole fluttering against you with every tug.

"Feeling unsteady, puppy?" you remark, but it's softer than your usual teasing. You trace his ribs, thumbs brushing over his nipples. He whimpers.

"No," he breathes, quickening his pace. His half-hard cock smacks his stomach with every harsh drop of his hips, the reddened tip dripping and slick. "I got it."

It's hard to act as if the sight doesn't affect you. His lean muscles flex with every shift, and as he sucks in a shuddering breath, a bulge pokes his belly. The print of it appears and disappears with each roll of his hips.

"Fuck," you hiss, gliding your hand down and pressing a thumb against it. Satoru twitches and stutters at the sight, letting out a ruined cry when words fail him. His breath grows ragged as he rides you harder, eyes wet with need. The bulge in his tummy moves with him.

His white hair is dark silver at the ends, stuck to his temples. A thin sheen of sweat coats his body, shimmering when it catches the light. With his milky skin, it's as if he's been brushed with crushed pearls.

You reach up and brush a thumb against his bitten lower lip, plush and warm. He parts them and presses his tongue against the pad of your thumb, moaning as you push it in. He grabs your wrist, nails digging into your skin, and lavishes wet kisses upon it. His tongue swirls around your thumb as if it was your cock and he pants hotly, lips pursing ever-so-slightly around it.

Your cock throbs inside him. The beginnings of a smug grin tug at his pillowy lips, and his eyes flash confidently. They falter and roll back into his skull as you bury your cock inside him with a rough thrust – he melts into your touch, his pretty little cock pulsing and dripping precome down his shaft and balls.

"You're so good to me," you chuckle throatily, pushing your thumb deeper into his mouth. He moans sharply. The whiplash between your warm, caressing palm and the violence with which you fuck him makes him downright dizzy. "Maybe I should take long business trips more often."

At that, he lets out a wrecked little sob, shaking his head. He leans deeper into you.

"No?" He shakes his head again, cerulean eyes clouded and unfocussed as you force his hips up and down from tip to base, knocking the breath out of his lungs. "Oh, sweet thing..."

His legs quiver. He's barely holding himself up, his sensitive hole aching with the sharp burn each time you pull out. You press his face into the crook of your neck and he mewls as you tug his arms behind his back, your hands strong and firm. He feels powerless like this, buried in the scent of your sweat and cologne, and all he can do is moan.

He stiffens when something snaps around his wrists. He arches back, trying to spot it. "What—?"

"Sh-shh, puppy. You're too antsy. Gotta learn to take it slow." You smooth out his blindfold, twisted several times around his slim wrists. You glance down at him, your hair tickling his cheek. "Don't you?"

It feels like he's breathing soup. His heart hammers and he clenches around you, knees and feet scrabbling for purchase against the couch without the use of his arms. He whimpers, tugging at the bindings. His fingers flex. "Y-Yes, sir..."

"Good boy."

And god, do you take it slow. He's a mess in minutes, teary-eyed and trembling, as you use him like a toy, lifting and lowering him on your cock, which feels all too big and thick in his swollen, abused hole. He swears he can taste it. He babbles, his sudden orgasm going totally ignored even as he sobs and calls you everything under the sun ranging from his usual pet-names to your title. You ignore him, focussing on keeping your thrusts steady and even.

"Sir," he gasps wetly as his aching cock twitches valiantly. "Sir."

"Yes, puppy?"

His brain is melting out of his ears. Hot tears streak down his flushed cheeks, wetting your shoulder. It's humiliating, being trapped like this on your cock, and he can't help the new ball of arousal swirling low in his belly.

"Too deep..." He lets out a wet whimper as his cock begins to harden again. Oh, stamina. "P-Please – come already..."

"I'm trying pretty hard." You hum, rolling him in your hands like a scientist with their pet project. You sigh as if disappointed. "You're all loose – like a whore."

Choking out a devastated moan, he shuffles on his knees, walls squeezing and swallowing your cock with renewed vigour. "Sir, I'm – 'm not—"

"Please, Satoru. You already admitted to touching yourself while I was away – you couldn't wait just a few weeks for me to come home. If you were good, you would've kept your hands to yourself. You forget who this—" you lift his hips and tap his asshole, making him clench and whine "—belongs to."

Few weeks? Few weeks? Satoru wants to cry. It isn't his fault his love language is physical touch. Going cold turkey for so long was agonising.

"'M sorry," he whispers, eyes squeezing shut as you dance your fingers over his swollen cock. "O-Oh...!"

You huff, shifting on the couch. You hold him up, his delicate hipbones slotted into the V of your thumb and forefinger. "I know you are, but I'll remind you anyway. You belong to me."

You set a punishing pace, fucking up into him and dragging him down to meet your thrusts. His hair bounces and he cries out, arms flexing against the blindfold. His eyes roll back and he moans, open-mouthed, against your neck, broken little half-sobs punched out of his throat.

He can't get a single full word out. Even his cracked, ruined 'fuck, fuck, fuck' is peppered with whines.

Then your hand comes down, hard, on his ass.

His eyes widen. His mouth opens in a silent scream. He comes.

You groan as thin streaks of come splatter your stomach, his cock rutting against you through it. His hips jerk and he starts to sob openly when your pace only quickens, his ass rippling with each thrust. "Fuck, sir," he wails, "y'feel so good...!"

You massage his stinging cheek, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that float him away into a soft cloud of thoughtlessness. It's so easy to give up control to you – so easy to hand himself over. If he has nothing else to give, you will have him.

Even through the fog of pleasure, he remembers how to kiss you. He would know how even if he lost every memory. He moans into it, raspy and wrecked. His toes curl and bliss weighs down his bones as you groan his name and thrust up once, twice, into him, cock throbbing hotly against his soft, gummy walls. Finally, you sink into the couch, holding him close.

He lays there, slumped against you, as you catch your breath together. His eyes flutter shut, the image of your face as you come seared into his mind, and he giggles drunkenly to himself.

You were so good to him even when you were mean.

Gently, you ease his blindfold off his wrists, and he immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders protectively. You're his, and his only. He sits quietly as you clean up to the best of your ability with him on top of you, and he whines softly when you try to set him aside.

"Satoru," you try.

"I'm sore," he retorts, feeling your chest rise and fall with your breaths. His voice is deliciously ragged and raspy. "Fix me."

"No."

"Then I'm staying right here."

"The house will burn down."

"Let it."

Incorrigible. You sigh and lift him just enough to do up your zipper, then lift him in a princess carry and rise to your feet. Satoru purrs and clutches you tighter, rubbing his cheek into your shoulder as you carry him through the house. "Let's find you some new pants, sweetheart."

"M'kay."

"After that, you're on your own," you warn him, stepping sideways through the bedroom door. He uses it as an excuse to tuck his head in the crook of your neck. "I need to check on the soup. I'll call for you when dinner's ready."

"Mm..." He gazes up at you with a sugar-soft look in his eyes. He rubs his hazy eyes as you set him down on the bed to open up his extensive wardrobe. "But I need to set the table..."

"I'll do it. You just take care of clean-up, yeah?"

"Mhm." Satoru tugs the open sides of his button-up shirt closed and fixes the long hem over his milky thighs. He sighs softly, watching you gather his pyjamas with soft blue eyes. "It's really good to have you home, you know. Everything's back to normal."

"Is that right?" Your voice softens and you cross the room, ducking down to Satoru's level. Expectantly, he lifts his face, closing his eyes, and smiles as you brush back his bangs and press your lips to his forehead. "Then you better make sure to spoil me rotten."

He catches your hand before you can pull away. With a teasing, bitten-back grin, he lowers it, and tugs his shirt hem up. He places your hand on his thigh, dragging it higher.

"Like this?" he whispers, coy when he flutters his lashes at you.

Your fingers dig into the soft, sensitive meat of his thigh. He mewls softly, plush pink lips parting.

You tear your hand away, drawing in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Later. Soup first."

Satoru huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning back on his palms when you scramble out the door. "Stupid soup," he mumbles to himself petulantly. "Why would he eat anything else when I'm right here? Stupid noodles. Stupid husband."

A voice breaks through the silence from down the hall. "I heard that!"

"Good!" He collects the clothes you'd picked out for him, smoothing his fingers down the soft cotton patterns. "I ain't a liar!"

He mumbles a radio song under his breath as he tosses away the plain black boxer shorts into the wardrobe. A sly smirk flickers across his features as he pulls out a pair of baby-blue panties from a drawer, placed right at the front and tucked into a neat little square. It's a pretty thing, lacey and soft, and it sits nice and high on him, accentuating his slender hips. They make his legs go on for ages.

He tucks it into his stack of clothes with an innocent hum, and then off he goes, prancing into the bathroom with an extra pep in his step. He doesn't lock the door behind him.

Satoru understands that you enjoy taking care of him, pampering him like a princess even when he pulls your hair and takes your toys. You always will. It's a wonderful thing, to be loved so sweetly; no one else could do it better.

He needs to return the favour, he thinks, glancing at his clothes and the little secret they hide. Nothing feels like it could ever measure up to what you do for him, but he can do this, and it's a start. Perhaps it'll get him closer to being your equal.

[fairy-angel222]

For @s0dium ‘s 10k+ event!! Congrats lovely 💗💗

Kenma can be so mean when you’re needy. Crawling onto his lap while he’s playing his game and whining desperately into his chest. “Ken.. need you.” You mewl, rutting your hips onto his thigh with a whimper.

He only stares down at you for a split second. Shaking his head to fight the smirk threatening to fall onto his face. “I just fucked you.”

“Want more.” You huff, arms reaching up to wrap around his shoulders with your face in his neck. Letting out a soft moan when he teasingly shifted his thigh under your clit.

“You’re fucking greedy ya know that? Always want some cock.” Pulling off his headset before kicking his chair away from his desk. His long fingers curling into your hair to pull your head back, muffling your surprised yelp with his lips on yours.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands falling to his front to fist at his shirt as his tongue latched roughly onto yours. Your eyes having already fluttered shut as your hips involuntarily rolled in small circles on his lap. You panted heavily when he pulled away, a lewd string of spit connecting your swollen lips as his head tilted towards the bed. “Go.”

You eagerly did what you were told. Your boyfriend scoffing at the wet spot on his sweats from your lack of underwear. “All i did was kiss you and your pussy’s already dripping.” Stalking up to the edge of the bed with a short nod. “Turn around.”

And you did, back arching as you put your ass on display for him. Short skirt flipping onto your back when you let your chest lay flat against his sheets.

“So fucking eager,” He groaned, palming your ass with his large hands as his cock hardened. Using his fingers to knead into the supple flesh before spreading your cheeks with a breathy chuckle. Your folds sticking to each other with how wet you were. “Fuck.”

Kenma swallowed hard, the sight of your sopping cunt making his cock throb. Especially when you were whimpering so adorably for him on top of it.

You whined loudly, attempting to push back onto him with the small wiggle of your ass. Squealing into the air when his hand landed down roughly instead. “Have some fucking patience yeah?”

You shivered when his fingers ran down your slit, the loss of his touch being short lived when you felt them being replaced by his cock. You moaned, feeling him bury himself deep inside you with a groan of his own. The stretch of your pussy to take his girth only adding to your pleasure when he began fucking into you slowly.

“Ahh.. f-faster.” You gasped, feeling his tip kissing your g spot perfectly as his pace grew harsher.

“You come sit on me all whiny, rub yourself all over my thigh, take me out from my game.” He grunted, “You’ll take whatever I choose to give you.”

You could only cry out in response when he quickened his pace regardless. Hips snapping roughly into your rear as he slammed himself in and out. Your eyes welling with tears as you babbled dumbly, body rocking back and forth with each mean thrust.

“F-fuck, you’re so— ahhh.” You couldn’t think, and it took no time for you to crumble under his merciless pace. He was fucking you so good, so deep. You were so fucking full and he was giving you no time to adjust to each thrust.

You loved it.

Kenma grinned, “Aren’t you the one who wanted me to speed up baby?” His hand reaching to snake around the back of your neck. Pushing you even further into the mattress with a grunt. “So fucking take it.”

“O-oh god, ‘s so g-good. So fucking good.” You cried, your fists gripping tightly onto the sheets near your head as you drooled. Lips parted in high pitched mewls when your stomach tightened, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

“Pussy’s sucking me in like she doesn’t wanna let go. She’s as greedy for cock as you are,” he breathed, head falling back with a shuddered moan when you clenched down at his words. “Shit- gonna milk me dry if i keep giving in.”

His words were incomprehensible. Your mind foggy as it focused on the rhythmic torture to your sweet spot.

“K-kennn, ‘m gonna cum. Please can i cum?” You were so close, body trembling with the curl of your toes as the building orgasm.

“Hold it.”

You almost sobbed, shaking your head as you pulled your body forward. “C-can’t. Needa cumm.”

His hands flew to the small of your waist, pulling you back roughly on his cock to continue his torture. “I said hold it.”

You wailed, tears flowing freely as you tried to keep it in. Chanting out an apology as your eyes rolled back, legs shaking uncontrollably as you made a mess on his cock. “‘M sorryyy.”

He watched as your slick dripped onto his bed. Your noises only increasing in volume at the overstimulation when he began using your hips to fuel his thrusts.

“Only know how to follow instructions till you get what you want.” His palm landing down on your ass with a small scoff. “I change my mind baby, you can cum. And you’re gonna cum until i say you can stop.”

He tried to act unaffected by his first release. The way his body trembled as his abs tensed. Letting out a string of inaudible moans as his jaw slackened. Eyes closing shut as he shakily pumped you full of cum.

Pulling out to watch the substance drip out of you in thick spurts. A groan sounding in his throat when he spread your folds for a better view. Watching you cry out when he pinched your clit meanly. “Pussy looks so much better filled with my cum.”

You felt your body going limp. Letting out a contented sigh as you lay there leaking cum.

“Uh uh, turn around. We’re not finished.”

Fuck.

[weirdwildwonderland]

GOD I LOVE HER SO FUCKLDJCLSKDJING MUCH YOU GUYS DONT EVEN KNOWWWW

[brokenmenswhore]

I hate to do asks but like just imagine this! At hogwarts there is a group that’s kinda like a polyamorous relationship but just for s*x and it’s like slytherin and gryffindor students and they decided they wanted someone from like a year younger so they start to slowly talk to innocent reader to get them comfortable around them before starting to get touchy with her (maybe she is a hufflepuff? That’s my house)

i’m a hufflepuff too 🫶🏻 thanks for feeling comfy enough to send me this ask if you don’t usually like doing that!

a proposition | poly!marauders

#1

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: none!

a/n: i don’t even realize my sirius favoritism until i proofread a poly story and i’m like damn okay then WHORE

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

Everyone knew about it.

Even though it wasn’t spoken of in the presence of the students not involved, everyone knew about it.

It wasn’t exactly a polyamorous relationship, because a relationship implies more than just physicality, which is what it was. It was purely for sex.

It was started, of course, by Sirius Black. He had a casanova reputation, and after a while, he started looking to the same group of girls when he was in the mood. His best friend, Remus, unknowingly slept with quite a few of the same girls, and a lot of those girls slept with each other.

James didn’t have as much sex as his two best friends, but he quickly became involved. After a while, a group was established.

All of the students involved knew one another well, and were all somewhat close friends that had not romantic desires toward one another, but unashamed lust. It was a sex positive group, and was essentially just a group of students who fucked each other whenever.

Despite the unofficial, non-relationship standing, they all agreed to only have sex with each other. If they wanted to add someone into the group, they all had to agree to it. So, in a way, it was a relationship, but, in a way, it wasn’t. There wasn’t really a label on what it was, but it worked for them.

Everyone in the group was in the same year at Hogwarts, so they all related to each other well.

However, a few of them began to crave something new- someone not so in line with everyone.

Everyone sat in the Gryffindor common room at an hour late enough that most others were asleep. James sat on the floor, his back resting between Dorcas’s legs as she played with his hair, tying small braids from the curly strands.

“We wanna bring something up,” James said.

“We’re doing we’s now?” Sirius scolded, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I just mean, there’s something Dorcas and I talked about, and now I’m talking about it with all of you,” James clarified.

“Fair enough, what’s up?” Mary asked.

“I’m wondering how everyone here would feel about inviting someone new into the group.”

Everyone looked around the room at one another, attempting to gage the energy of everyone else before speaking their own opinions.

“I vote we should bring in someone younger,” Evan added.

“Younger like what? Like wouldn’t that be weird?” Remus asked.

“No, idiot, like a year under us,” Evan retorted.

“Where the fuck are we gonna find someone a year younger than us who would be down to do this?” Mary questioned.

Sirius flicked a spark off of his cigarette, clearing his throat and sitting forward a bit. “I have someone in mind.”

“Has everyone been trying to scope out prospects? Am I the only one who hasn’t thought about inviting in anyone new?” Alecto asked.

There was another shared look, and everyone shrugged. They had all thought about a change.

“Who’d you have in mind, Sirius?” Dorcas brought the attention back to his statement.

“There’s this hufflepuff a year below us, seems super innocent though,” Sirius said, taking a quick hit of smoke, “blushes every time I look at her.”

“Is she hot?” Remus asked.

“No, I’m proposing we all fuck her because she’s not hot,” Sirius snapped, his voice laced with evident sarcasm.

Sirius told them your name, and a few of them already knew who you were.

“She’s super cute!” Dorcas exclaimed, “I’m super down for that. Anyone disagree?”

Everybody was on board with the idea.

────── ☾ ──────

“Go on, then.”

James turned to Sirius and Remus, saying, “why does it have to be me? You go do it.”

“Fine,” Sirius replied, “Remus, go talk to her.”

Remus threw his hands up. “What happened to being set on making James do it?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “She’s not gonna be sitting at that table forever. You nervous or somethin’?”

“No,” Remus quickly replied, “this is just, I don’t know, weird.”

“How’s it weird?”

“Because I’m about to go interrupt the poor girl in order to talk to her with the intention of later asking her to fuck me and all my friends,” Remus explained, “I don’t know, it’s just a weird thing to do.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I can’t stand you two,” Sirius said, flicking a spark off of his cigarette and walking over to you. He sat down across the table from you, watching you intently as you scribbled notes off a textbook.

You didn’t look up because you didn’t even consider that he was sitting near you for a reason.

“Hey.”

You looked up, and Sirius was looking directly at you. The familiar tint of red crept into your cheeks. “Hi.”

He took a drag of his cigarette, kicking his feet up onto the table. “Seen you around quite a bit.”

You couldn’t help but stare at his lips as they wrapped around the cigarette.

“We do go to the same school,” you quipped, smiling to show it was lighthearted.

Sirius smirked, happy you were responding well to him. “I usually don’t get on with anyone that isn’t in my year.”

“Why talk to me then?” you asked.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said, swinging his feet off the table and leaning his torso over the table a bit, “guess somethin’ just caught my eye.”

He knew his flirtations would make you blush, and they did just that. You smiled as you tilted your head back down, pretending to look over your notes in an attempt to calm yourself.

Sirius’s smile only widened watching you squirm under his gaze. “Whatcha studying?”

“Fwoopers,” you responded, “but understanding seems to evade me sometimes.”

“You know who’s super smart? My friend James.”

“Wh-“ before you could even stop him, Sirius signaled over James, who approached you with Remus in tow.

“This is James, James, say hi.”

James sighed. “I’m not a dog, Sirius, unlike some people.”

“Funny,” Sirius retorted, “do you think you could help my new friend with some Care of Magical Creatures work?”

“Oh, I don’t- I’m all good, I-“

“Course,” James lit up, sitting down directly next to you, “lemme see.”

He pulled the textbook toward him, familiarizing himself with what you were reading as Remus took a seat next to Sirius.

You watched a few girls walk past your table, shooting you dirty looks when they noticed that the boys were otherwise occupied with you. Sirius, Remus, and James has grown to be quite popular, and them speaking with a random, younger Hufflepuff was odd. Remus noticed your shift in energy.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just- I’m a year under you, I can’t do your schoolwork for you or anything.”

Sirius furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why would we want you to do our schoolwork?”

“I don’t know, is that not why you’re all talking to me?”

James diverted his attention from your textbook, looking at you in understanding. He felt a pant of guilt for springing everyone on you at once, and a pang of sadness for the fact you didn’t think they would actually want to talk to you just because.

“You forget James is top of his class,” Sirius said, but James didn’t think the mood called for quips. He shot Sirius a look, taking over the conversation.

“We’re sorry if we came off a little strong,” he started, “we all just wanted to say hey. We see you around a lot and think you’re cute, it’s as simple as that.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly turning weak.

Sirius was smiling and relaxing back into the chair, amused to high hell with how innocent and blushy you were from such a small little compliment. He was so happy he suggested you.

────── ☾ ──────

The following day, Remus and Lily caught you walking down a corridor during your free period.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” you asked, directing the question toward Remus as they caught up to you.

“Didn’t feel like going,” Remus said, nonchalant.

“You can’t just not go,” you laughed, assuming he wasn’t serious.

“Be careful with this one,” Lily said to you, gesturing to Remus, “he’s a horrible influence. You wouldn’t have caught me dead skipping a lecture last year. He can be very persuasive.”

Something about the way she said it made you swallow hard, suddenly extremely aware of your presence and appearance.

“I’m Lily,” she finally introduced herself, throwing a piece of hair behind her shoulder. She was beautiful, and you became self conscious in her vicinity.

You didn’t respond, just smiled, so she took the opportunity to continue. “My friends and I are all headed to Hogsmeade later. You’re welcome to join if you want!”

“You’d want me to join?” you questioned.

“Don’t be silly, why not? Remus will be there too, and a ton of other really cool people.”

You contemplated your options. You had no reason to believe that Remus and Lily were not genuine in their invitation, and you were excited at the prospect of new friends. “Sure,” you responded.

Lily squealed and gave you a small hug. “I’ll go tell everyone you’re coming!”

“Why would you need-“

“Bye!”

Lily scrambled off down the hallway, leaving you alone with Remus.

“She tends to get excited,” Remus explained, “she’s the friendliest people-person I know. Can get quite annoying, actually.”

You giggled at his statement, and he took the opportunity to brush his hand against yours. You took it as an accident, so you didn’t even react, but then he intertwined his fingers with your own.

You didn’t retract your hand, but instead looked to where yours met his, and then looked at him. He continued looking forward, walking alongside you and not acknowledging what he did. He wanted to see if you would pull away on your own, but you didn’t. It felt comfortable.

You got ready for your trip with your new friends alone, since all of them were in Gryffindor or Slytherin and stuck to their respective common rooms. You caught Lily and Mary outside of their common room, and you walked with them down to Hogsmeade.

Now that you were outside of the castle walls, you noticed a shift in how everyone acted with one another. They were all very touchy, making sexual innuendos at each other and allowing themselves to have fun without restriction.

You followed as they immediately went to Honeydukes. Alecto informed you that Sirius had a serious sweet tooth, and always made everyone go there as the very first stop on their trips. No one complained, though, because they all wanted to anyway.

As you all exited the shop, Dorcas made a show of sucking her lollipop, staring Evan in the eyes as she did so. You felt your cheeks go hot, almost feeling like you saw something you shouldn’t have.

The next stop was the Three Broomsticks, and James saw your confusion as you reached the entrance.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just- didn’t you all just get a whole bunch of sweets?”

James laughed, “and?”

You smiled toward him. “Fair enough.”

“We don’t like to shy away from the pleasure of life, darling,” Dorcas said, imitating a very english accent. Everyone laughed in unison at her impression.

You all crowded around a table, and you remained silent, your hands in your lap for fear of obstructing the space Sirius had to your left and Mary had to your right.

You listened intently as everyone joked and talked about their current courses and professors, when suddenly a question was directed at you.

“So tell me, which professor do you like the least? I just know it’s Professor Bins. I mean, you’re crazy if you don’t say Bins,” Lily said.

“If I had to pick, sure,” you said.

“He’s never done anything to drive you crazy?”

“I mean, there was this one time he assigned so much work over the holiday that someone threw a desk out the window,” you started.

“Wait what? What exactly happened?” Lily asked, enthusiastic that you were finally opening up.

“It was just all textbook readings and analysis, especially about the Ministry and MACUSA and all that, and he said it had to be done by the time we came back from holiday. A few students protested, and he just got more and more angry until someone stood up, picked up a desk, and chucked it out the window. It happened so fast I don’t think anyone had the time to levitate it before it hit the ground.”

Everyone chuckled at the story, and you felt at ease now that you were becoming more and more comfortable with the group.

“And did he…”

“Faint from sheer stress? Oh absolutely,” you added, smiling as you spoke, your posture adjusting to mimic your growing comfort.

You didn’t catch it, but Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, nodding their heads upward at one another as Sirius gently placed his hand on your thigh.

Your body jolted a slight bit as you flinched, startled by the unfamiliar feeling. Sirius immediately pulled his hand away, but you turned to him, and spoke low enough that only he could hear. “It’s okay, you can leave it there.”

Sirius put his hand back, resting it low on your thigh. As time went on, and you continued talking, he began to rub his thumb on your leg. It felt unfamiliar, but soothing and intimate.

Of course you were attracted to the people at the table: they were all insanely attractive and kind to you, but you hadn’t felt this feeling before. Someone was touching you, and so intimately, and it was doing something to you.

Sirius began to slowly creep his hand upward, rubbing your inner thigh under your skirt, only a few inches away from your most sensitive area.

You shuddered and your breathing hitched in your throat, but you didn’t stop him.

You were suddenly snapped back to reality when you noticed everyone watching you. You looked around the table, slightly embarrassed and slightly confused.

“We have a proposition for you,” James said.

[cheer-nympho]

Steve was always being brushed off when he asked people to read things aloud for him,

In middle school his assigned partner for their ‘Frankenstein’ project gave him a scornful glare and ignored him when he had asked them to read the passages aloud.

In his sophomore year, he’d turned to ask Robin Buckley to read a old newspaper article about the ‘Wild West’ to him, because he couldn’t make it out through the fonts and weird words. She had fixed him with a cold look but before she could respond, Tammy was tapping his shoulder offering her help.

Then, while studying with Nancy and Barb at lunch, Steve had asked for help reading study cards. His own study cards. The paper was too bright and the squiggles too squiggly. Both of them had looked at him, them each other, clearly trying to decide if it was a joke.

Barb had scoffed under Nancys pointed look and gone back to her own notes. And while Nancy hadn’t read them out for him, she had handed him her own notes on some nice blue and yellow cards. It took him a while, but he could read them. Maybe she thought he hadn’t wrote any.

After that, he went a long time without asking anyone to read him things. Turns out that once you graduate, reading isn’t much of an issue. He’d gotten by just fine by looking at his Archie comics and ignoring the swirling lines of articles surrounding them.

He didn’t need to ask again until Scoops Ahoy. For a cheap, overly themed ice cream parlour there sure was a whole lot of memorising and reading to be done. He couldn’t see the charts properly, couldn’t really make out the dates on the tubs in the freezer. But every time he asked Robin for help, her frown would deepen and deepen until she just snapped. It hadn’t been that mean, really. Just an annoyed yell followed by accusations of being lazy, her not understanding how he managed to graduate, one last comment of him being a ‘bumbling idiot’.

After the Russians, she never said anything like that to him again. And she always did the inventory and lists for him.

It takes until summer, 1987, for anyone to read aloud to Steve. They were laying across Eddie’s new bed in comfortable silence.

Steve had his legs dangling off the edges as Eddie leant back against him, legs pointing up against the wall in a way he swore was actually comfortable. He had been reading a new book called “Spellfire” and he couldn’t seem to put it down.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your book about?”

“This? Well I…Not sure it’s really your thing, man.”

“Maybe.” He goes back to reading. “I could see if it’s my thing?”

Eddie twists his head sideways to look up at Steve with a slightly confused face. “You wanna borrow it?”

“Was thinking you could read it.” He fiddled with the pocket of his jeans in a hopefully casual and not freaking out way. He didn’t look at Eddie as he waited, but after a few moments he responded.

“Sure. That’s fine, yeah. Want me to start over or go from here?”

“From there is good.”

And it was good, it was really really good. Steve hadn’t been able to read a book since middle school, hadn’t really tried again after that. But as he lay back and let Eddie’s voice wash over him he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been missing out.

Sure, it actually wasn’t really his thing, but the way Eddie read aloud painted such a clear picture that Steve enjoyed it anyway. The other would change his voice slightly for different characters and added emotions into his speaking. If it was a tense moment, he’d go slow and add gaps in just the right places. If it was fast paced he’d speed up and get more and more manic until the action cut off. He felt like he was reading along. Felt like he could see the pages in the book, but also the characters and the dungeon they were combining through.

So, for the first time Steve hadn’t been brushed off. He had probably found the only person he knew who could turn reading a book into a performance. One he would happily be seated for every night.

From then on, new books turned up at the trailer every week, Steve not far behind.

[whoreforsexymen]

heeeey!!!! Im back with more jayce request. I would like to see jayce x reader with the prompts “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” and “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”. This is giving me like rivals or enemies to lovers where jayce and the reader have some heavy sexual tension under the surface. One day jayce just loses all patience and snaps and takes all of his stress and anger out on the reader

Sink Like A Stone | Jayce Talis

Prompt Fic (See, Prompt List)

Prompt(s) Used:

#2 "Don't act like you didn't want to end up under me like this."

#21 "Shut up and take my fuckin' cock."

Pairings: Jayce x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns + Female Anatomy Descriptions

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Word Count: 8.3k (IDK what happened)

Tags: Songfic, INTENSE Smut, INTENSE Angst, VERY SLIGHT dub-con (it's not really dubcon--Jayce just get's really consumed by anger at one point--the unspoken consent is there) Hate-fucking, Lovers to Enemies then back to Lovers (??), Choking, Semi-Public Sex, Biting, Slapping, etc.

Summary: You and Jayce are ex-lovers. You hate him for plagiarizing and stealing your life's work, and he hates you for leaving him over what he considered a selfless act. After months of having not seen each other, you two get into a heated screaming match turned hate-fucking. However, Jayce may have let his emotions get the better of him.

Notes: OKOKOK, so. Be warned. This one is a DOOZY. I was in no way planning on adding 90% of the elements I added to this story. They just kind of happened.

(Special note to @milkbean69 !! I really took this and ran with it. If you want me to redo it in a much tamer way. Please let me know and I will.)

((((Side note, this is going to have to be a two-parter! Stay tuned for part two, which will be much softer.))))

‘We lie,

Cold.’

Jayce.

A name so simple, so unassuming, it would slip unnoticeably through anyone else’s mind. But to you, it holds weight. Each syllable, each breath that forms it, feels impossibly significant—a name that stirs something deep within you, a quiet echo of poignancy known only by you.

Your feelings towards the Jayce Talis you once knew were complex and hard to define. On one hand, you despised the way he insinuated himself into the council of Piltover’s most prestigious Academy, taking a seat you believed was rightfully yours—one you had fought tooth and nail to earn.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

His so-called “vision” for Piltover’s future, with that abominable Hextech nonsense, had directly sabotaged the plans you’d spent years perfecting. You may not have had the luxury of Arcane magic to ease trade, but you had crafted a much more practical blueprint to connect Piltover to the rest of Runeterra’s trading world.

Yet the moment Jayce and his fragile “partner” wielded their so-called “magic,” your ideas were dismissed, overlooked, and ultimately erased.

‘We don’t wanna,

Know.’

On the other hand, you had always considered him a friend—seemingly more at times—until the day he practically ripped the rug of your life’s work out from under your feet.

Not to mention he had the gall to call it his idea. “His” idea? Please. It was your idea, just re-wrapped in a fancy mystical package. You had worked on it together, after all. Jayce had spent countless hours rambling about the mysticism and potential of those tiny blue stones of his, insisting they could revolutionize everything you had ever strived to achieve. Never once did you imagine that, once he unlocked their power, he’d turn against you, abandoning the partnership and the vision you had once shared.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.'

What kind of name was Hextech, anyhow? It felt devoid of sophistication, lacking both subtlety and the gravitas one might expect from something so profound. It didn’t quite capture the essence of what it was—an intricate fusion of magic and technology—nor did it convey any sense of elegance or purpose.

Although, you couldn’t deny that you often reminisced in memories of your life before his grandiose “discovery”—robbery, really— of Hextech—your idea.

‘We take our time

Ignoring all the signs

Living in fear of our lies

Never bad enough to break it

Or, good enough to feel right.’

You had spent the better portion of your youth with him, much of it tangled amidst bedsheets, consumed by a shared, desperate need to relinquish each other’s physical tensions.

‘Been in overtime,

Half our lives.’

Sometimes, you could still feel the softness of his touch, the warmth of his lips grazing your skin—and other, much more tender, places. You could easily recall how your body had ached for him at times, but even more painfully, how your heart had longed for him, too. A truth you never dared to utter aloud.

The absence of anything beyond those intense moments of passion never really crossed your mind during the thick of it all. You never questioned it, and in hindsight, you’re almost thankful you didn’t—especially after what he had done after all that time. All of the time spent together, collectively fantasizing over your dreams and aspirations of a better life for all citizens, and a better future for the next generations to come.

‘Under indecision,

We become so dependent.

On the rush,

Of the moment.’

The bitterness that had consumed your heart was unbearable now, and the thought of ever confessing your feelings to him seemed almost unfathomable—impossible to imagine how much worse it could have been for you now if you had.

By this point, you were acutely aware of how deeply you loathed him. Your physical desires had long since faded, especially since you hadn’t seen or spoken to him in months. You had even gone so far as to move to a place he couldn’t find, cutting off every trace of connection, and the bond you once had.

Your skin ached with longing for him, your body and soul craving his touch once more. Yet, no matter how intense the desire, you would never allow him a single opportunity to return to your life.

It was a painful contradiction to bear—hating him, yet craving him all the same. You felt trapped, consumed by hopelessness, unable to escape the turmoil inside.

‘Sanitize

My head.’

You hadn’t moved far—just to the other side of Piltover, away from The Academy, the council, and—most importantly—-Jayce, himself.. The distance was a great relief. In your day-to-day life, there was no real risk of encountering him, and that small sense of safety gave you some peace of mind.

However…

You often found yourself testing that peace, pushing the boundaries of the distance you’d created. You weren’t entirely sure why—maybe it was the deep, unresolved desperation for him, or perhaps a semi-conscious, self-destructive choice of yours.

‘Death murders

Everything in sight.’

Each night, you found yourself walking almost the entire length of Piltover, from your new home to the Hexgate monolith on the far end—the very place you had fought so hard to escape.

Seeing the towering structure always left you with a deep, melancholic thrum in your chest. It represented everything you had once hoped for, everything you had worked and slaved over, now reduced to rubble by its mere presence.

‘Beneath the rip in the wind

The pillar push you aside.’

That tower stood as an unyielding symbol of betrayal, a constant reminder of the anger and anguish that had shattered your world at the mercy of Jayce’s hands.

‘If I make way

I can taste your sigh.

Just like the cannibal amp

It knows sound is size.’

On your nightly walks, you would make your way down the stone pier that lead to the water, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. When you reached the end, you’d grasp the railing that kept people from tumbling over the cliff’s edge, gluing yourself to the present moment.

‘Push me to

The brink, I said

Well that bitch

Is a creep

It tried to know what I think.’

There, you’d gaze up at the tower, lost in thought—re-evaluating and wondering how differently your life might have unfolded if Jayce hadn’t betrayed you—-if he hadn’t stolen your idea and torn everything apart.

‘To breathe out passion

Or suck in fate

You think the world was made

To wield your weight

And bleed out?’

Tonight was no different. Here you were, hood drawn—- hands shoved deep in your pockets—-your bodice pulled tight as you hunched in quiet disdain, eyes locked on nothing but the ground that passed underfoot.

Your expression was sour as you traced every wrong turn your life had taken to bring you here. Your chest felt heavy, as if the weight of it all pressed itself down upon you out of sheer spite.

Your mind buzzed, a relentless whirl of painful memories spinning in a dizzying menagerie inside your skull.

When your eyes met the stark, hauntingly familiar edifice, a sharper pang stabbed deep beneath your chest, more intense than you were accustomed to by now.

You weren’t sure why, of all nights, tonight seemed to bring out the most intense surge of feelings—especially since you found yourself unusually consumed by your thoughts this time around.

Especially since, long before Jayce had perfected the Hexgate, the two of you would often come here to find solace in the sound of the waves and the crisp air of the sea. You’d toss stones into the water, or compete to see who could throw them the furthest. The bittersweet memory of how often Jayce would taunt you for your lack of coordination only deepened the pain and anger digging at you.

You couldn’t control the mindless, almost reflexive way your body reacted to such intense feelings, in combination with the familiarity of the location. Without a second thought, your hand reached for a nearby rock, and before you even registered what you were doing, you hurled it as hard as you could toward the tower.

The tower, distant and perched far out in the water, seemed almost unreachable, and your rock barely made it halfway before splashing down into the water with a sound that felt like it mocked you in the same way Jayce had. You almost felt compelled to throw another rock, driven by some irrational need to make the first one atone for mocking you—despite the fact that it, like all other rocks, had no sentience to answer for its actions.

You gave in to the irrational impulse, bending down to pick up another rock, your mind still fixated on the need to make the previous one pay. But as your fingers closed around the stone, something in the corner of your vision made you pause. A pair of shoes—familiar, yet unknown—caught your eye. Shoes that were attached to feet. Feet that led up to legs. Legs that belonged to the hips and torso of an individual you couldn’t see beyond your hood.

The rock slipped from your hand, forgotten, as your attention shifted entirely to the figure standing behind you. You hadn’t heard a single indicating noise that you had been followed, or approached from behind.

The presence was sudden, unnerving, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to be afraid. If you were anywhere else, anywhere but Piltover, you’d be terrified. But here, in this ”city of wonders”, you couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, you were still safe.

If anything, it was probably an enforcer, here to reprimand you for throwing rocks in the first place. You straightened up, brushing the thought aside, and turned to face whoever had been silently looming behind you.

As you spun around, you realized—this wasn’t an enforcer.

No, far from it.

The person standing there was more terrifying than any enforcer could ever be, and certainly more annoying, infuriating, and enraging to look upon, for lack of better words to describe the instant rush of wrath that overwhelmed you.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t look past

Your future self?’

“Your aim is still pretty shit, sunshine.” He says plainly, the nickname he had always pegged you with burning in your ears.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes locked onto the disgustingly smug expression on his face. Every hair on your body stood on end, a shiver crawling up your spine as you stood face to face with the man you now regarded with nothing but utter disdain.

You freeze, unable to muster a response, your mind clouded with a storm of rage and contemptment.

Jayce’s gaze lingers on you, almost—dare you think it—in a way that seemed concerned, longing, and worst of all—-caring.

What a hypocrite. How dare he look at you like he actually cares?

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap, your fingers twitching, aching to throw a rock at his face just to make him eat his words. For a split second, you actually consider it—and you’re sure Jayce can feel exactly what’s running through your mind as he observes the way your eyes flicker between his face, and the stone you had left behind.

“What look?” he asks, concern surging through his expression again.

Did this guy have a death wish, or was he really just that oblivious? Either way, you could crack instantaneously.

“That look. The fake concern,” you snap, your eyes dropping, fists tightening, teeth grinding.

“Fake…?” He pauses, clearly lost in thought as he crosses his arms over his chest, the hint of offense hanging off his words.

You fight the urge to lash out, to make him feel something stronger than pain.

‘I know the feeling

‘Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

“Yes, fake, Jayce. As in insincere. Artificial,” you spit, taking a sharp breath.

“Ersatz,” you add, the word a bitter aftertaste.

Your words cut through the air with a venomous cadence, each syllable sharp and biting, a distasteful attempt to tear through him.

Jayce looked completely dumbfounded, as if his mind had been wiped clean. The stark look of gears no longer grinding in his brain was almost comical. He was daft, no doubt. You felt a twinge of pride prod your ego upon this realization.

You couldn’t bear to stay here, not this close to him, not after everything. The thought that he was only here to twist the knife deeper into your wounds was almost more than you could handle. Your emotions, raw and overwhelming, had already drained you, and you were done. You didn’t want to give him another moment—no chance for him to make things worse, or worse still, to somehow try and redeem himself. As if he ever could.

Steeling yourself, you gather what little dignity you have left and turn away, keeping your face carefully composed. As you pass him, you deliberately knock your shoulder against his, ricocheting his shoulders in the process, a silent and singular act of defiance as you walk away.

As if to intentionally make matters worse, Jayce turns after you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He makes contact, swiftly pulling you back towards him.

“___, wait—” He begins, but his words are cut short as your hand slams into his cheek. You hadn’t necessarily meant to hit him, but the motion was as instinctive as throwing the rocks—your hand connecting with the flesh of his cheek before you even had a chance to stop it—not that you necessarily would have wanted to.

The way you had wound up the slap was only amplified by the sudden pull of his hand grabbing you mid-stride, forcing you back toward him. The momentum aided the force with which you struck him.

The weight of what you’d just done hit you all at once—grief, anger, relief, all crashing together. A small part of you, the part that still cared for him, was flooded with guilt. But the darker parts of you—those that hated him, that had longed to hurt him—felt a twisted satisfaction. Besides, it was his own fault that he had grabbed you.

You’d wanted to feel his skin beneath your hands, after all, and in an oddly perfect way, this had been the way to satiate that desire.

Jayce instantly released his grip on your wrist, his hand moving to cup the spot where your slap had left its mark.

“Ah…” he groaned, wincing as he cupped the stinging flesh. His eyes snapped shut, the pain unmistakably written all over his face.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away as he stood there, his hand pressed against the raw, reddened skin of his cheek, the mark of your slap still vivid and angry. The sight of it made your chest tighten, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was you were feeling. What should you feel in a moment like this? That was the question you could neither answer or shake.

You had already acknowledged, in a quiet corner of your mind, that there was a strange satisfaction in lashing out, even if it was tangled with the thorny weight of your own hurt. There was a cruel sort of release in it, one that both thrilled and disturbed you in equal measure. Your stomach churned as you fought to suppress the abhorrent feeling of shame that crept up on you.

You could feel your instincts urging you to escape—to run, to put distance between yourself and this raw, uncomfortable moment. But you chose not to listen. The urge to flee warred with something else, something deeper, a curiosity that had begun to take root. You wanted to see how this would unfold, to witness how this tension would resolve, if it would resolve at all. The satisfaction you had felt from that sharp, ringing slap was undeniable. Maybe it had been a way to expel some of the pain that had been building inside you for so long. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth confronting whatever came next, just to relieve yourself of that heaviness, even if only for a moment.

‘Make up your mind,

We’re running out of time.’

Your heart sunk as you saw the essence of betrayal soon sweep across his face. Yet, simultaneously, that added to the anger you felt. He, of all people, felt betrayal? After the way he betrayed you? That look of his repulsed you.

He looked at you, disbelief written all over his face, his expression a mixture of shock and hurt. His hand lingered on his cheek, still tender from the sting of your slap, as though he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the moment. The look he gave you was one of genuine confusion, as if he couldn’t fathom why you were so consumed by anger.

“___…” His voice cracked slightly, heavy with emotion, but still full of that familiar, passionate lilt, the kind that used to make your heart race. When he whispered your name—softly, almost reverently—it was as if the sound of it pained him.

‘Doubt is failure

By design.’

His eyes searched yours, full of questions that hung in the air, unanswered. Why had you struck him? Why this sudden violence? The pain in his gaze only seemed to stoke the fire inside you, making the anger flare even hotter, more reckless.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you don’t know exactly what that was for,” you spat, each word sharp, each syllable dripping with a tang that tasted like metal on your tongue. But as the words left you, the anger morphed into something far more fragile, far more devastating. Your heart seemed to crack with the weight of it, the betrayal, the hopelessness. The tears welled up, blurring your vision as your chest tightened with sorrow.

“Why… why are you so blind to everything you’ve done?” you choked out.

“To everything we had… everything you destroyed… just so you could chase your fucking dreams?”

Your fists balled at your sides, the muscles in your arms trembling from the effort of keeping control, even though your voice shook with the strain of holding back the tidal wave of emotion threatening to break free.

‘I’m burning up

Can only take

So much.’

“What about my dreams, Jayce? What about our dreams?” you cried, your voice rising, your words feeling like they could burn everything in their path. Every inch of you ached—your body, your heart, your soul—all of it pulled taut like a string ready to snap. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.

“What made sealing your own future—your destiny—more important than what we built together?” you demanded, the question sitting in the air between you like a dagger.

“Why was your ambition more sacred than our bond? More sacred than us?”

Your voice cracked on the last word, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps. The tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your face, but you stood your ground, unwilling to back down. This—this pain, this heartbreak—was something you needed to admit, needed him to hear.

“How dare you steal my idea. How dare you take the credit, and disparage it with your stupid, fucking, magic.” You were shouting now, your voice ringing through the night air, raw and unfiltered, the weight of your anger shattering the silence that had settled over everything. The contrast between your fury and the stillness of the evening was jarring—your words felt like they were tearing through the quiet, reverberating off the walls of the world around you.

“Your idea?!” he exclaimed in response, his voice rising sharply, cutting through your tirade. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few purposeful strides, his figure towering over you, his height and presence suddenly far more imposing than you remembered. His broad shoulders blocked the space between you, his stance firm, as if challenging you to face him head-on.

‘I know you

Can feel it

It’s catching up

It’s getting too heavy

For both of us.’

“Since when was it your idea?” His words were fast, biting with frustration, and he was unrelenting as he moved closer, his eyebrows knit together in upset.

“‘Cause the way I remember it—we both wanted change. We both wanted to make Piltover a better, more advanced city.” His voice was now an angry force, his face craning down to meet yours, his eyes sharp, trying to drill the point home. He wasn’t asking anymore—he was demanding you understand.

But what hit you most in that moment wasn’t just his words. It was the way his anger had suddenly shifted everything. For the first time in your life, you felt small compared to him. You had never seen him like this—not even annoyed, not in all the time you had spent together. Jayce had always been the steady one, the calm, the voice of reason. But now, his fury felt like a storm—intense, unpredictable, and completely foreign. The force of it left you unsettled, and taken aback, to say the least.

You didn’t know how to react to this. His anger was like a tidal wave, knocking the ground out from under you, and for the first time, you realized just how much power he had over you—how much he could command just by his sheer presence. The towering figure in front of you, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with emotion, made your chest tighten. You didn’t know what to do with this. His anger was new, and in some way, it was almost more frightening than anything you had ever faced.

‘We lie

Cold.’

You were baffled, not just by the words he was saying, but by the way he was saying them—like a person you didn’t recognize.

You parted your lips, ready to continue the tirade that had built up in your chest, but before you could get another word out, Jayce’s voice cut you off, raw and jagged. He didn’t give you a chance to speak, his frustration spilling over, each word more desperate than the last.

“You left me. Here. Alone.” His voice cracked, trembling under the weight of everything he, too, left unsaid, considering how you fled before he ever got a chance to explain himself. It wasn’t just anger in his tone anymore; it was pain. The kind that came from a place so deep you couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

“I did what I thought was best for us.” He stepped closer, his voice rising in volume, matching the intensity of your own.

“I proved what I was trying to prove. For us. For our collective aspirations.” The words came faster now, fueled by the overwhelming rush of emotion that was beginning to boil over in him.

“I worked my ass off to make sure that, with the help of my Hextech, your trade routes could flourish,” he spat, his anger now matching yours, raw and unrelenting. His face was inches from yours, his breath hot as he glared down at you.

“I won’t stand here and let you blame me, let you hate me, for acting out of what I thought was selflessness at the time. I’ve gone to bat for you, countless times, to make sure you got the credit you deserved.”

His own fists clenched at his sides, the strain of his words almost too much to bear.

“But you ran. You left, assuming my only goal was to use you, when in reality, all I ever tried to do was support you.”

His words slammed into you like a physical blow, and for a second, you were paralyzed by the force of them. But then the anger surged again, hot and insistent. Support you? The bitterness twisted in your gut, and before you even thought about it, the words exploded from your mouth.

“Support me?!” You shouted, the sound ringing through the night like a bell, sharp and accusing.

“That’s what you call abandoning me to take a seat in the highest of towers?” You could feel the heat of your own fury rising to meet his, and without thinking, you shoved both hands into his chest, pushing him back with all the force you could muster.

Jayce stumbled backward, caught off guard by the sheer force of your anger, and you weren’t done. You shoved him again, harder this time, your hands pressing against his chest until he hit the railing behind him with a loud clang. The sound echoed in the air, but you didn’t care.

“In the council, no less?! Leaving me here to fend for myself in your fucking shadow?!” Your voice was hoarse now, each scream louder and more desperate than the last. You pushed him once more, as if trying to push the weight of everything you felt, everything you couldn’t hold onto anymore, into him.

The tears you’d held back were streaming freely down your face, but there was no stopping them now. The hurt, the betrayal—it all came pouring out in that single moment. The fury and heartbreak swirled together, a force you couldn’t control, and all you could do was scream at him until your voice gave out, until he understood just how much you had suffered because of his choices.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

Jayce had finally reached his limit. The shouting, the anger, the constant back and forth—it was all too much. He could see now that no matter what he said, nothing would make you stop. The argument had spiraled into something beyond reason, and every word he spoke only seemed to fuel your fire. You weren’t listening anymore; you were just lashing out, consumed by rage.

Enough was enough.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.’

When you shoved him again, anger blinding you, Jayce reacted quickly. His patience had worn thin, and he wasn’t about to let this go any further.

The next time your hands came at him, he caught your wrists with a swift, forceful motion, crossing them tightly over each other. Before you could react, he shoved your arms into your chest, locking you in place. Then, without warning, he spun you around, pulling you harshly against him so that your back was pressed to his chest. His grip tightened, his arms like iron bands, preventing you from thrashing away.

‘Mirin myself

All by myself.’

“Stop.” His voice was low, sharp, and commanding, vibrating against your ear as his chest caged you in. You could feel the heat of his body, the raw tension in every inch of him as he held you close, his strength completely overpowering your attempts to break free.

“___, for fucks sake! Stop!” He demands, one of his enormous hands moving to take hold of both of your wrists while the other clamped down around your jaw, bringing your face towards your shoulder, where his own chin rested in this position.

Jayce had no choice. He knew how stubborn you were, how deeply you clung to your anger when you were hurt, and how you’d never stop until you’d worn yourself out—if you ever did. But right now, he couldn’t wait for that to happen. He couldn’t let you run away from him anymore.

With one sharp, decisive movement, his lips crashed into yours. It was hard, hungry, demanding—a complete storm of sensation that left no room for resistance. Your eyes went wide in shock, your breath hitching as you tried to pull back, but he followed, his mouth pressing harder against yours, refusing to let you break free.

‘Feel the caress, so sweet

Done by my hand.’

You gasped, the sound caught between your lips, and before you could protest, his kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, twisting with yours in a way that both startled and confused you. You cried out into his mouth, the noise muffled, as his hold on you tightened, his body pressing closer to yours, grounding you in place.

Every part of you wanted to push him away, to shout, to keep fighting, but Jayce’s kiss was relentless—an anchor pulling you deeper into silence. He wasn’t pulling back, not until you stopped fighting, until you let go of that anger long enough to breathe.

And though you still burned with fury, something about the way he held you, the way his presence swallowed you whole, made it harder and harder to keep struggling.

No matter how much you had longed for his touch, how desperately you had yearned for him to kiss you like this again, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it in a moment like this. Not when everything inside you was still burning with anger and hurt.

‘Polishing this frame of mind,

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You fought against him, your body stiff and tense, desperately trying to pull away from his overwhelming presence. Each movement was a silent refusal, a stubborn resistance to the way his kiss was pulling at your very core.

‘Duck n’ dodge,

Stay unaligned.'

But it was futile. You were already drained, your energy spent from the crying, the shouting, the endless cycle of rage that had led you here. As his lips pressed more insistently against yours, the fight in you began to falter. The need to escape, the impulse to run, slowly began to dissolve with every second his lips lingered on yours, and his tongue explored the depths of your mouth. What remained was the sharp sting of your rage, but even that felt like it was starting to ebb.

Gradually, your body softened, the tension in your muscles melting away. The fight left you, piece by piece, until you sighed against his mouth, the sound muffled but unmistakable. With a subtle shift, your head tilted just enough to give him more room, more access, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to stop fighting. The kiss deepened, and in that quiet surrender, Jayce released a long, relieved breath, sensing your body finally easing into his touch.

‘My recognition face

Some get withered

Some get fried.’

You kissed him back after great hesitation, your lips and tongue moving urgently against his, as if you were trying to make up for every lost moment in a single, heated breath. There was no holding back now. The memories, the longing, everything that had been buried deep inside you erupted all at once, and your mouth moved hungrily against his, each movement a desperate attempt to relive the intimacy you’d once shared.

‘I know we talked about

The shit we did

Each time.’

His grip on your wrists faltered, weakening as you started to turn toward him fully. The distance between you closed rapidly, and soon, your chest was pressed flush against his, your body responding to his presence with an intensity you couldn’t control. As your hands were freed, they instinctively traveled up to his face, your thumb brushing over the spot where you’d struck him only minutes before, feeling the remnants of your anger there, now mingling with something else.

‘Polishing this frame of mind

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You cupped his face, fingers digging into his jaw, pulling him even closer as if trying to erase the distance between you, to melt into him and make up for the time and pain that had come before. The urgency in your movements was raw and frantic, a wordless plea to feel everything at once—to collapse the anger, the longing, and the need that had built up inside you into this single, desperate connection.

‘Duck n’ dodge

Stay unaligned

My recognition face.’

His hands roamed over your body, searching for any way to pull you closer, his touch growing more insistent as he settled them on your hips, pulling you into him. The physical closeness only heightened the tension, the desire, but also something darker—something that still lingered between you—lust.

Though you no longer felt the need to escape, your rage simmered just below the surface, burning deep in your chest. It wasn’t gone, not by a long shot. It still gnawed at you, demanding to be felt, demanding some kind of reckoning. Part of you wanted to make him feel it, make him understand the depth of your pain. You wanted him to know what you had been through all this time.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t

Look past your future self?’

Your tongue retracted for a moment, and you pressed your teeth against his bottom lip, the bite sharp enough to sting. It was a flash of anger, mixed with the heat of desire, and it caught Jayce off guard. You had shared passionate moments before, but nothing quite like this—nothing that carried this much intensity. He flinched at the sudden sharpness, but in that moment, something in him sparked, that familiar fire of tension growing even stronger.

If that’s what it would take to break the tension, then he’d oblige.

Jayce’s hand tangled into your hair, pulling you closer, his grip tightening. The sensation of your hair in his hand, the pressure, sent a breathless sound escaping from you—something between a gasp and a soft exhale. It was involuntary, the sound mixing with the heat building between you. Jayce had always longed to hear that from you, to feel that connection, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t stop.

For far too long, Jayce had denied himself any form of physical connection. Since you left, he’d been forced to bury his desire for you deep inside, locking it away with a painful awareness that nothing—no touch, no embrace—could compare to what he had shared with you. Each passing day, he became more acutely aware of the emptiness that lingered, knowing that any contact with anyone else would only serve as a stark reminder of the craving that burned for you.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

He tightened his grip, drawing another soft sound from you, the mix of pleasure and tension in the air thickening. His focus was solely on you now, on the way your body responded, on the sounds you made, and how this moment—this raw, unguarded moment—was pulling both of you closer to the unspoken lust that couldn’t be denied a moment longer.

You can’t help but let out a filthy little moan, whimpering along with it.

A shameless, guttural moan, that sent Jayce’s head into a spiral. He had been beyond desperate to coax those kinds of noises out of you for what felt like too long of an eternity. He was in no position to deny himself the opportunity to keep drawing them out of you.

His hands curled into a fist as he yanked on your hair, whimpers flying out of you like a flock of birds.

If you wanted to fight dirty, Jayce was game.

“Fuck..” He breathes out—eager, like a starved man who stumbled upon a banquet— as he pulls away from your lips, immediately pressing them against the skin of your neck he had exposed from his grip on your locks. He let his teeth drag along the skin, biting and harshly sucking on it in several places. Your reaction was deathly arousing. The slightly pained cries that flowed beside ones of pleasure sent Jayce’s burning temptation into orbit.

He knew you needed him in the way he had once gotten used to providing for you. His cock throbbed beneath his slacks, desperate to break free from the confines of the cloth that kept it contained.

It was arguably harder than it had ever been, his anger and inability to have you for so long adding fuel to the fire of his pure incessant need to bury himself deep inside you.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

Oh, how you both longed to be connected like that again. In the way all lovers know well—their unspoken second nature.

He ruts his hips against yours, your own body responding instinctively by meeting them in their attempt to seek friction.

You both emit low grunts at the new sensation, satiating the tension for now.

You felt as though you were being scorched from within, the intense heat of your desire and simmering rage intertwining, each stoking the other in a relentless blaze. Every nerve burned with an insatiable hunger, a craving that went beyond pleasure, pulling you deeper into a whirlwind of both ecstasy and agony.

You needed more—not just the thrill of sensation, but the raw, cathartic pain that seemed to heighten the fire within you. Your soul ached for an outlet, something that would satisfy the chaotic tension, where your lust and frustration could collide, erupting into something that might finally ease the raging storm inside.

You snaked your arms around his neck, giving a small jump into him as you anchored onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He hums darkly in reaction to the sudden motion, his hands releasing their clasp on your hair to instead latch onto the bottom of your ass—-supporting you as you clung to him.

Jayce’s head shot up from it’s spot between your head and chest, moving to a new vantage point in order to scan the area. He was a man with a mission.

A mission to uncover the perfect place, somewhere secluded and unremarkable—a refuge hidden from the world where he could channel the fury between you with ruthless intensity. It had to be a spot where nothing could interrupt the raw, unfiltered release of tension—a place where every movement, every act, could be as drastic and unforgiving as the anger that surged through both of you.

Needless to say—and in an extremely simple turn of phrase—-He needed to fuck the rage out of you— and he would stop at nothing to do so.

After a few tense moments, Jayce focused, his eyes landing on the perfect hidden corner in all of Piltover. His grip tightened on you as he began to lead you toward it. The alleyway was small and shadowed, tucked between two shops that had long since closed for the night. The buildings on either side pressed in tightly, their walls forming a dark, narrow passage that swallowed any light. The darkness obscured it from street lamps and passersby, though Jayce hardly seemed at all concerned about the possibility of wandering eyes, anyway.

The alley itself was already tucked away from the main streets, but the particular spot his intentions were set on was even more concealed—through the alley and to the right, behind the buildings entirely, not just in between.

Overhanging eaves, garbage bins and scattered crates cloaked the area, creating a thick, impenetrable shadow. It was a secluded pocket, completely hidden from view, untouched by the faintest glimmer from the street beyond.

A perfect haven of obscurity, though the lack of any inviting scenery was hardly worth a second thought. The cracked cobblestones, the faint smell of damp earth, rotting trash, and the forgotten clutter of the alley seemed irrelevant. In a place like this, where shadows held sway, scenery had no claim. Nothing mattered but the raw, pressing heat of the moment.

You sank your teeth into his neck, your hands exploring his shoulders with a quiet, persistent need. He groaned beneath your bite, his un-abating lust taking the lead furthermore, as he harshly slammed your back against the abrasive stone walls of the building. His mouth was quick to covet yours once more, lips voraciously seeking stimulation from them.

Your sensual tango of lips pressing against each other, hips grating and rutting into each other’s carried out, Jayce beginning to make quick work of exposing you to the elements, his cock still hard as ever as it brushed against your clit beneath the layers of clothing. You can’t help but whimper out in response.

With the new advantage of pinning you to the stone wall—-combined with the leverage of your legs still around his waist—-his hands grew eager, rushing to tear your blouse apart. His fingers slid between the buttons of the opening, pushing through the seam before he gripped tight and wrenched it apart. Several buttons flew free, briefly distracting from the sharp bite of the cold air against the newly exposed skin.

You couldn’t help but whine into the cavern of his mouth, the rough display of lust redirecting all of your aching and longing straight to your clit. It throbbed with intent, a desperate reminder that you needed more friction. You greedily rolled your hips into his, yielding another low, filthy grunt from Jayce.

“Fuck.” He pants against your mouth, hands kneading at your breasts, cock twitching beneath his trousers.

Oh, how he longed to revisit the memories of your past encounters, to re-enact the acts of pleasure he had learned to bring you. But in such a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to slow down. As much as he yearned to please you in the ways he’d spent so much time discovering, there was no time, now. The urgency of the present situation demanded everything from him. If he didn’t bury his cock deep within you, right now, and fuck you senseless, he’d probably keel over.

This was his last chance. His only chance to rewrite your history.

‘Am I the reason,

That you can’t look past,

Your future self?’

Without a second’s hesitation, Jayce tore your legs from his waist, practically dropping you to the ground. In one swift motion, he flipped you around, pressing your cheek forcefully into the cold stone wall with one hand. You groan out, the harsh force of his motions prodding your deep-seated anger once more. His chin reclaims its resting point on your shoulder, teeth claiming your earlobe between them as he pressed his mouth to your ear. You groan out of sudden distaste for the new position.

”Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” He growls into it, the words viscerally stabbing at your clit, earning a thirsty cry from you.

He spread your legs with his feet, his free hand clambering to release his throbbing cock from it’s fabric prison. He yanked your pants down, the sound of his belt clinking sending shivers up your spine as your cunt pulsated in anticipation.

You were beyond wet—the word a dull description of the way your cunt was absolutely sopping, dripping, and practically gushing for him.

Despite your evident arousal, you weren’t used to things happening so fast. You began to protest as your back arched against his brawny, bold, and burly chest.

“Jayce— wait!” You started to say, before his teeth clamped down onto your earlobe with increased vigor, your words fading into torrid moans as a result.

He pulls your underwear to the side, fist pumping his deprived cock before he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.

“Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.” He barked.

Before you even had a chance to breathe, he plowed into you, curling his hips up to press flush against your ass. You had no choice but to brace yourself. Your hands flew to the cold stone wall, gripping tightly to keep from collapsing under the force of it all.

The sound that tore from deep within your chest was raw, loud enough to make anyone within a hundred feet of the building take concerned notice. Anyone outside of you and Jayce would have assumed you were being murdered.

It was a deliciously vile sound, thick with want, neediness, desperation, and all the emotions you had yet resolved.

“Fuck!” You scream, tears stinging in your eyes as Jayce began slamming up into you with at an absolutely merciless pace. He wasted no time by giving you a single moment to adjust, knowing full well the rough nature was exactly what the situation called for. If he didn’t give this his all, everything was at stake. Or so he thought.

His thrusts were, at their core, crude—filthy, vulgar.

Lascivious.

They had an animalistic quality, one that attested to his own desires, and the hurtful longing he had harbored for you.

Jayce grunted, huffing out as he ruthlessly snapped his hips against the flesh of your ass. He plunged his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, the hand that held your face against the stone withdrew from you. Jayce pulled it beneath your arm, wrapping around your chest to imperviously grip at your breast, using his hold on it to further aid in the force with which he was bucking into you.

His other hand moved to your neck, fingers tightening around it with a possessive grip. The pressure forced the air from your lungs, and you gasp, the sound barely escaping as your breath becomes shallow. You squirm, struggling to breathe, but his hold doesn’t loosen. Instead, it pulls you in deeper, mixing fury with hunger. Each ragged breath, each flicker of resistance only seems to make it worse, the heat between you both building in the space where anger and desire collide.

“Fuck you.” He spat out in sync with his thrusts.

“Fuck.” —thrust.

“You.” —thrust.

“For.” —thrust.

“Leaving.” Thrust, thrust, thrust.

The words he spat out were coated in intent, each one seething with the same anger that simmered inside of him. The way he moved, pounding into you, was frantic, his hips driven by a fire that seemed to consume him.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been

Stuck and glued

In frequent doubt.’

You could feel it, the heat coursing through his veins with every thrust—his body shaking with the intensity of it. There was nothing controlled about the way he gripped you, no tenderness. Just a reckless, furious need, each movement angry, as if he were fighting to push the rage out of his body and into you.

His soul had been set ablaze, and all you could do was feel the burn.

“Agh—“ You pant, air still desperate to escape your lungs as he clenched your throat.

“F-fuck you for—-Pretending like—-you care.” You choke out.

Jayce’s blood boils, his grip on your throat tightening beyond the point of care.

“Pretending like I care?” He pants as well, exhausting himself from the force with which he was railing his cock up into you.

“I care. More than—anyone—sunshine.” He very well shouts, words still in sync with his thrusts, on exhaling with each. He was absolutely plowing you now, the familiar nickname cutting through the air that surrounded you.

You were groaning out in pleasure and pain, the contrasting feelings mixing into one as he continued his relentless assault on your cervix.

“T-Then why—-why couldn’t you just—-“ Your lungs begged for air.

“Love me—-like I love—- you?” You gasp, your voice barely audible above the hunger for air.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t

Keep my mind

Open now.’

Jayce’s movements stopped abruptly, his hands yanking away from you as if struck by a sudden realization. You gasped, breath catching painfully in your throat, stumbling back into the wall, your body desperate for air that was slow to come. The intensity that had fueled him moments before seemed to drain in an instant, leaving you gasping in the silence.

Jayce felt an overwhelming wave of guilt crash over him, sharp and suffocating, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured straight over his head. It hit him all at once, a gut-punch of realization that mirrored the guilt he had seen on your face earlier when you slapped him—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to escape. His chest tightened, a heaviness settling in his stomach as he stood there, frozen, unable to look at you.

His hips stilled, his body rigid as the anger that had driven him to this point shifted, replaced by something softer—-sadder. His heart felt heavy in his chest, sinking like a stone in water.

All that was left in the alley was the erratic—-uneven sound of your breathing, each inhale a struggle, sweat slicking your skin, catching the light of the moon in fragile glimmers. The silence stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what had just transpired hanging between you like a shroud, heavy and unresolved.

His mind was a blur, thoughts scattered and jumbled, short-circuiting in a way that left him dizzy. He couldn’t make sense of the guilt spiraling through him, the crushing weight of having crossed a line he hadn’t even seen until it was too late. Until you said what you had said.

That you loved him.

He removes his chest from your back, pulling himself out of you in the process.

Jayce reached for you, his hands trembling as he gently grasped your shoulders, his touch softer than it had been all night. His fingers barely brushed your skin, as if afraid to make contact after everything that had just happened. With a careful, almost reverent motion, he spun you around to face him. The moment your eyes met, his chest seemed to cave in on itself, a sickening weight settling there.

His heart felt like it had physically dropped, plummeting to the pit of his stomach with a sickening thud. The sight of you, tears streaking down your face, the raw anguish in your expression—it shattered him. Every ounce of anger, every moment of fury that had driven him earlier seemed like a distant memory in the face of the heartbreak he had caused.

How could he have been so reckless? The thought screamed in his mind, impossible to silence. The guilt that gripped him now was suffocating, crushing. He’d seen your pain in the heat of the moment, but now it hit him full force—really hit him. The tears in your eyes weren’t just a reminder of what he’d done; they were a reflection of how far he had pushed you, how little he had cared in the frenzy of his own anger.

And now, standing in front of you, he couldn’t undo it. All he could do was stare at the damage he had inflicted, helpless, terrified of what he’d become.

“___…” He whispers.

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐚

request: OPEN

pairing: drew starkey x you ft brooke starkey

summary: when you and brooke decide to pull a prank on drew during a casual saturday lunch at his house, it’s all in good fun. drew’s protective streak as both a big brother to brooke and a boyfriend to you has always been one of his most endearing and amusing qualities. so, when you drop a casual bombshell about having a “male waxer” at the spa, drew’s reaction is priceless. shock, confusion, and hilariously protective instincts take over as he tries to process this unexpected bit of news.

warning(s): english is not my native language. light humor, playful pranks, and drew’s classic overprotective antics, no use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. please be nice, thank you and enjoy.

Drew was in high spirits as he set the table for lunch, a relaxed grin on his face. He’d spent so many months on set for Outer Banks, and it was clear he was thrilled to unwind with the people he cared most about. Little did he know, you and Brooke were about to test just how protective he could get.

As you and Brooke shared a mischievous look across the table, you kicked off the prank.

“Hey, Brooke,” you began casually, glancing at Drew to see if he was listening, “thanks for recommending that spa the other day! It was, uh… an experience.”

“Oh, you finally went!” Brooke said, playing along perfectly.

“How was it? I told you they’re really good, right?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, they assigned me a guy for the wax. Super professional and all, but, you know, unexpected.”

Drew’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, his eyes snapping to you, wide with surprise.

“Wait… a guy? Like, for… the wax?” He looked genuinely baffled, trying to process this information.

You fought so hard keep your expression neutral, nodding casually.

“Yeah, he was great at it, honestly. Didn’t feel a thing. Super smooth process.”

Drew’s face morphed from confusion to full-on disbelief. He put his fork down slowly, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words.

“Wait… you mean… like a full wax? By a… guy? That’s even legal?”

You shrugged, pretending not to notice his growing panic. “Yeah! Brooke goes there too. And of course it was legal”

Brooke jumped in, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Oh, yeah, I get a guy a few time. They’re just more efficient, you know? Totally professional.”

Drew’s jaw practically dropped. He looked from Brooke to you, then back to Brooke, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

“Wait, Brooke… you, too? Both of you… by some random guy?”

You could see the protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Drew was always so protective of both of you, and he looked like he was about to burst with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and was that a hint of jealousy? not sure.

“Yeah, babe, it’s not a big deal,” you added, feigning nonchalance as you twirled your fork in your pasta.

“He was a total pro, super respectful.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Respectful or not, that’s still… strange, right?” He looked at Brooke, hoping she’d agree with him.

“I mean, you don’t think that’s, like… kind of weird?”

Brooke shook her head, acting entirely unbothered. “Nope. Honestly, it’s easier you know they don’t make a big deal out of anything, and they’re more… what’s the word; thorough.”

Drew looked absolutely bewildered, his eyes flicking between you and Brooke as if waiting for one of you to reveal it was all a joke.

“Wait… thorough? What… what does that even mean? And how is that not weird?” He turned to you, looking betrayed.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

“I mean, Drew, it’s a spa treatment, not a big deal. It’s not like I’d come home and say, ‘Hey, I got waxed by a guy today.’ with a very proud face on.”

“But maybe you should have!” Drew said, crossing his arms with a pout. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Oh, come on,” Brooke teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t be so overprotective, Drew. It’s just a wax.”

Drew’s face was priceless with half annoyed, half helplessly confused.

“I’m not being overprotective, I’m just… I mean… come on!”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely baffled.

“This is just… I can’t believe both of you think this is totally fine.”

You and Brooke exchanged a glance, both struggling to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“Oh, Drew,” you sighed, leaning over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“He’s a professional. I didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick and easy.”

“‘Didn’t feel anything’?!” Drew repeated, looking even more scandalized.

“I don’t care if it was painless! It was still a guy, right? Like, a random guy?”

Brooke grinned, piling on, “Oh, he’s not random. I think his name was… Carlos?”

“Oh, mine was Vincent, he’s Italian by the way.” You said

Drew’s face turned red.

“Carlos?! and Vincent?! So he’s got a name now? You ladies on a first-name basis with these guy who… I mean…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts.

“Does this Carlos, Vincent know I exist?”

You bit your lip, feigning a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I didn’t mention you. But maybe next time?”

Drew groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Next time? Oh, come on, you’re kidding me.”

“Drew, calm down,” Brooke said, barely containing her laughter.

“We’re just trying to live our best, smooth-legged lives here. Can you blame us?”

Drew looked at her with an exasperated expression. “Yeah, but does that really have to include some guy named whatever his name is? You know, it’s kind of my job to protect you both from… well… guys like that!”

At that, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You and Brooke burst into laughter, doubling over as Drew continued to stare at you both in utter disbelief.

“Wait… are you two… Are you serious?” Drew asked, the realization slowly dawning on him as he watched you both laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my god, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He continue, “Oh, yes you are, and it’s not fun ladies”

Through your laughter, you managed to say, “Yes, Drew! There’s no Carlos or Vincent! It’s a prank!”

Drew let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in his chair, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“Oh, you two are evil. Seriously, I’ve been through a lot on set, and this is what I come home to?”

You wiped a tear from your eye, grinning. “Well, we missed you, so we thought we’d welcome you back with some… excitement.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head as he reached over to pull you into a playful hug.

“Excitement, huh? You know, payback’s coming for both of you. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, we’re ready,” Brooke teased, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Hit us with your best shot, Drew.”

Drew rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.

“You two are lucky I love you, because if anyone else pulled something like that on me…” He shook his head, feigning a serious look.

“Carlos and Vincent, though? Really?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “We knew that would get you. What a sexy name for a man”

“Yeah, well, it did,” he admitted, sighing as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“But next time, I’m not falling for it. Just so you know.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you said, grinning.

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. hayato suo, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), overstimulation, squirting, fingering, cunninglingus, phone call / keep quiet, mirror sex, multiple rounds, creampies, usage of pet names, praise

part 1: ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren

mdni - 2K wc . filled request! (i added togame) :>

HAYATO SUO. mirror sex

"h-how!”

your reaction is adorable, drawing a lighthearted chuckle from your boyfriend. you squirm a bit, face pressed uncomfortably against your vanity’s mirror as you’re bent over your own desk, a smiling suo looming right over you.

"well...you didn't replicate it very well," he coos, "i'm surprised you thought i would fall for that."

you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. there was absolutely no chance that he was able to differentiate between a real one and a fake one— you’re certain of it. you had even mimicked the way your walls flutter around him whenever he pushes you off the edge.

“don’t believe me?” his voice comes out steady, cock prodding at your entrance, “i’ll show you.”

you gasp at the feeling of his length stretching your walls, pushing until just the tip is inside. he’s holding you tightly, not letting you move when you impatiently try and push your hips back for more.

“s-suo,” you blurt, “stop teasi—”

all at once, he’s slamming his hips into you, your tongue lolling out when he’s buried deep inside you. he doesn’t give you time to steady yourself before he sets a brutal pace, fingers coming to swipe perfectly at your clit. “see?” his voice comes out cheerful despite the way he’s bullying his length into you so roughly, “this is closer to the kind of faces you make for me.”

it’s all happening too fast. before you know it, you’re shivering and whining beneath him, arms knocking over your bottles of skincare as you try to brace yourself to take him. he’s awfully composed, subtly angling himself to slam against the spot that has you seeing stars. your orgasm approaches you so fast, faster than ever before, and it’s overwhelming.

“w-wait, suo, slow down—” you stammer, thighs shaking violently as the knot inside you threatens to snap. “it’s too much! ‘m gonna-”

“and you know? when i do this,” he interrupts sweetly, fingers coming to rub at your clit just as his cock pushes against a sensitive spot, “you’ll cum for me.”

it hits you in an instant, eyes widening when the familiar wave crashes through you, walls spasming against his length as you scream. your vision is still a blur even when he slows down his pace, dotted with white and black splotches. you can barely register what’s happening when suo’s hands come to run up and down your body as he sighs contentedly.

“see? like that,” he nods, “it’s easy.”

his length is still inside you, switching to slow and steady thrusts as you tremble beneath him. "don't worry. i'll show you again so you remember."

SAKURA HARUKA. squirting, cunninglingus, fingering

sakura’s fingers leave your clit the second he realizes something isn’t right, because you’re usually much louder and messier than this. he pulls back from your cunt for a second, head hot and blurry from nerves, and the violent blush across his face deepens as he forces himself to get a closer look at your cunt.

it all makes sense when he realizes he was touching the wrong spot— most likely due to the fact that his eyes had been clenched shut.

“y-you didn’t tell me,” he grumbles out of embarrassment, gaze shifting anywhere except on you. even with an apology and the explanation that you just wanted to make him more comfortable, the thought of how’d you look actually cumming on his face doesn’t leave his head.

he’s buried in your cunt now, your thighs clenched tightly around his head as he fucks his fingers deep into you. sakura had no idea just how addicting it would be when you first mentioned it to him— each moan that leaves your lips more sinful and loud than the last. it has his cock throbbing with need, forcing him to grind his hips against the mattress to relieve the frustrating ache.

“oh my god…” you mumble to no one in particular, mouth falling open when he pushes his tongue inside your cunt, eating you out with more intensity as his fingers come to press into your clit. “sakura—”

it’s dizzying, but he wants more. his free hand comes to dig into your ass, lifting you up a bit so he hold you flush against his face, licking and slurping at your cunt even as your thighs squeeze roughly against his head. “ah— fuck, sakura, w-wait!”

the way he’s eating you out feels different than what you’re familiar with. the knot in your core feels tighter, you feel wetter— he feels better. your hands come to desperately tug at his hair when it’s too much, and his eyes widen when you unintentionally push him deeper into your cunt.

the pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit one last time is all it takes for you to scream, cunt gushing into him as he licks and suckles at your clit. your walls flutter around nothing, your body numbing from the intensity— but your boyfriend looks the opposite.

“again,” his voice is just above a growl, cheeks still glowing red with embarrassment, “let me practice again.”

TOGAME JO. phone call / keep quiet, overstim

the sudden ringing of his phone catches the attention of the two of you, screen lighting up brightly as it vibrates against the mattress. togame’s thrusts slow down a bit, reaching to fish it from somewhere underneath the blankets to check the caller.

"ah, it's choji."

his voice comes out completely normal, as if he wasn’t balls deep inside your cunt just moments ago. it’s almost irritating how limitless his stamina is; your body numb and overstimulated since long ago, and all you’re able to do now is lay there and take what he gives you.

it takes all your energy to try and pull away from him to let him take the call, struggling a bit with the way his big frame is towering over yours, but he suddenly pulls your hips back against his own.

“jo!” you warn through a hushed whisper, eyes narrowing into a glare as the cheerful melody of his ringtone repeats itself again. your eyes widen when he puts a finger to his lips to silence you, and you realize that he’s planning on answering it without stopping.

a hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up until your back is flush against his chest, his thickness nestled right against your cervix with the angle. “gonna stay nice and quiet for me while i answer choji,” he coos into the shell of your ear, “won’t you?”

“because we’re not done just yet..”

your body falls back onto the mattress when he lets go, and you grasp onto one of your pillows to stuff your face into when he resumes his pace, starting slow and deep.

“choji?” togame asks, lifting the phone to his ear to tuck it between his shoulder casually. “ah..today?”

his hands hold your hips firmly as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your clit as his tip prods at your cervix with each movement, and you can only hope it’s not loud enough for the mic to pick up. togame feels differently than usual, the drag and stretch of his length against your walls much more noticeable when you’re trying to keep quiet.

“that’s really last minute….mhm,” a small grunt forces its way out, “i’ll come after i finish what i’m doing here.”

there’s a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the little yelp that escapes your lips. togame stiffens above you, hands gripping your hips to keep you still as the two of you wait to see if choji had heard you.

“noise…? nah, it must have been my phone. it’s old.”

your thighs are trembling against his, knot inside your core still threatening to snap even after he’s ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. “let me check the door though. hold on,” togame clicks the mute button before tossing his phone beside your head, suddenly pounding into you with more strength.

“f-fuck!” you cry when his cock hits a particular spot inside you, and you’re cumming just like that, gushing around him and screaming as your walls fluttering wildly against him. there’s a deep groan from him as he clenches his jaw, pace not faltering as he rapidly approaches his own high.

he lets you fall limp onto the bed, mind numb from each orgasm he’s pulled from you after your stunt tonight. “you gotta stay quiet,” he rasps, hands still holding your hips up for him, “wouldn’t want choji to hear you getting stuffed full for the third time tonight, right?”

his words send a shiver down your spine, walls clenching around his length at the thought. you’re so tired, too tired to do anything except cling onto the sheets beneath you, and you know he’s not even close to his limit.

“…or would you like choji to hear…?”

you shake your head quickly, drawing a small chuckle from togame. he picks up his phone again, giving you a warning squeeze around your hips before he’s unmuting his mic. “ahh…” he starts, “it was nothing. anyways, i’ll see you later, choji. i’m hanging up.”

he hangs up abruptly, letting out a deep groan he didn’t know he’s been holding in for the last minute when he feels your walls eagerly flutter around his length. togame’s quick to cage you underneath him, strong arms planted on either side of your head as his pace begins to falter, hips stuttering as he quickly approaches his high.

“so impatient…squeezing my dick like that. want me to fill you up nice and full, huh?”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. creampie, pet names, multiple rounds

"c'mon," umemiya grunts from above you, hips slowing their movement against yours, "you know you can't convince me with something like that."

he's gentle when he lowers himself onto his forearms, forehead pressing against yours as if searching for his answer. your bottom lip curls into a small frown, eyes shifting their gaze away from your boyfriend. he's always so good— knows exactly how to get you trembling underneath him in an instant, and you hate it. you hate the way your expression starts to contort and the way he’s pulling the most lewd sounds from you.

"it's embarrassing," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, "the faces i make."

his eyes widen a bit at the confession, as if the idea of you being embarrassed wasn’t even a possibility in the first place. there's a experimental thrust of his hips, his cock nudging your cervix, and you can't help the small gasp that escapes.

“i don’t think that,” he coos, heavy cock stretching you so perfectly as he starts to move against you again, “don’t be shy.”

"f-fuck.." you gasp, because he feels too good. his chest is slick with sweat, the muscles of his arms flexing beside your head as he gazes down on you, intent on gauging each and every reaction his cock rips from you. “that’s good,” he whispers when your eyebrows furrow at the stimulation, “just like that. keep your eyes on me.”

he's getting rougher with each roll of his hips, thick length reaching impossibly deep inside your cunt. the back of your hand comes to cover your mouth when you feel the familiar knot tightening in your core, eyes clenching shut to fight it.

"nuh uh," ume's voice comes out a little breathless from the pace, his hands coming to pry yours off of your face, "no more hiding from me."

"u-ume," you protest with a huff, legs wrapping around his middle to keep him deep inside you, "just give it to me. please?"

he chuckles a bit, big hand coming to squeeze at your face, puckering your lips out. "oh, i will— i’ll give you what you need, pretty thing," he grunts when your walls flutter around his cock at the nickname, "so keep your eyes on me."

his fingers stay around your face, angling your head to face him when he sets a rough pace, balls slapping against your skin with each movement.

"wanna see you nice and clear when you cum for me, okay?"

[cvnntagious]

𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭

☆ a fratboy!chris sturniolo blurb...

with a blunt in one hand and his fingers hooked under your panties with the other, chris' pace remained deliberate and unforgiving, his tip prodding at your g-spot with each stroke. he listened to you whine with satisfactory hums, loving the way your ass would bounce off his pelvis with a snapping sound. "juuss' like that, mama, you got it," he cooed, his tone emitting the slightest bit of praise when he felt you begin to fuck yourself back onto his cock.

when you'd barged into chris' room randomly, all whiny about how much you need him and babbling on about the pictures he'd postes on instagram only half an hour prior, having practically ran past all the other people hanging out in the frat house to get to him, he didn't even bother putting out his blunt when you climbed on top of him. your impatience even lead to him having to hold your panties aside while he worked your seeping pussy, the dark blue lace all soiled with your juices.

you moaned into his sheets, face smushed into them as you tugged and squeezed the fabric for dear life. his hips came to a halt, allowing you to get off on him exactly the way you liked it. with his size, you barely even had to move for his dick to bring you to the edge, but you wanted all of him— pulling him out all the way to his tip before pushing yourself back into him.

he took a long drag from the blunt, humming into it when he felt your gummy walls massaging his length. he took it from his lips, planning to allowed the smoke to really hit him, only for him to begin coughing it up with a particularly rough snap again him. "ahn... chris–!" you hissed.

"s-shit, mama, y'close?" he groaned rhetorically, knowing by your whines and whimpers that your pretty little pussy was begging to cum around him.

smirking as you nod frantically, trembling and desperate for release, he leans over you slightly to put out the blunt and set it in his rolling tray beside your guys' bodies. his grip on your underwear tightens, tugging on them as much as he could without ripping them right off of you. a firm hand comes down on your ass, then kneeding the plush skin to ease the pain as he talks through his teeth: "i'm not," he speaks bluntly, grunting a bit.

"huh?" you gasp out as his movements start up again.

he chuckles, free hand now sliding up the curve of your ass to push you further into the bed, making you arch more than you though was possible. "you can't cum 'til i do," he replies, hips snapping to meet your body, eliciting mewls and whines from you, "milk me, mama. take what's yours."

against your body's warnings, you obey his words— bouncing to fuck his cock and chase both of your guys' orgasms. the squeals and mewling moans flying from your lips have chris levitating with self-satisfaction, ego growing with each pleasured noise. "ohh mama, y'got it," he praised, his thrusts meeting your movements as he felt it getting harder and harder for him to hold back.

a few groans and grunts came from his throat, head tilting back in pure bliss. he smiled at all the tingling sensations his felt with your pussy clenching so hard around him, daring to cum without his say so, as his high only added to the pleasure. "chris please," you begged, forcing him out of his own thoughts as his head snapped down to look at your pleading face again.

"do it," he finally said, pushing one final thrust into you to fill you up to a hilt. he filled you up with a few moans of his own as you began creaming around him, completely out of breath when you felt him slowly fucking his cum into you.

°

"you know i'm faded / Heart shape and i love that." -jeremih

w/c : 656

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, filth, unprotected sex, dirty talk, biting, creampies, breeding kink

─────────୨ৎ──────────

“Fuck!” You yell throwing your head back deep into his pillow

You’ve lost track of how many orgasms he’s already ripped out of you, was this the 3rd? 5th? You don’t even know. Your mind was too delirious to have any other thought besides him.

Sunghoon who lapped at your cunt groaned in pure bliss as you came all over his mouth again. Dragging his tongue to collect all your juices spilling out of you, he slurped and slurped until you were soaked with his saliva only.

“Always taste so damn good” He slurred through his teeth, looking up to your dazed state

You’re not sure if you can go on any longer and come again but Sunghoon has full confidence that you can—well you will.

“Just one more and we’ll be done, promise”

Not another second wasted, his leaking tip suddenly protruded into your gaped hole and you clawed at his skin feeling the stretch breaking you apart. Your core far too sensitive to handle anymore but the stretch felt so good that the sensitivity melted away into pleasure when he thrusted up into you.

Sunghoon’s sharp thrust did not disappoint—well they never did. The precision of his movements in making sure you felt him deep inside of you to what you assumed was him rearranging your insides to mold him forever.

“Sung-Sunghoo-” You mewled

Feeling your clamp around him, sucking all of him with ease just like how you always did. You never made him prouder.

Sunghoon could feel the drag of your nails on his bulging biceps, holding onto anything you can find for support. Your body jolts forwards from his thrust as his mission is to fill you.

“Gonna fucking breed this pussy- Make you all mine” He grunts and his words were gasoline added to the raging fire

Your moans grew louder as you felt him moving faster in and out at a pace that didn’t leave any room for slip ups, “You’ll like that won’t you? So full of me that you’ll feel it swashing in you”

The lewd noises falling from you was all he needed as your answer but your weak nod only added more carnal desire into him. He could feel the twitching of his cock, he’s only been focusing on you for the past hour that he’s been denying himself of his own pleasure that it’s coming 10 times harder and faster than usual.

“F-Fuck- Taking me so damn good”

“All- For you!” You squealed, your head in the clouds as you felt the daring snap in your stomach ready for yet another climax

You’re surprised by how much your body can give but Sunghoon always managed to test your body to limits beyond your expectations.

Resting his head into the crock of your neck he groaned in your ear, “Yeah? All for me? I can feel it in you” What he didn’t tell you was that he can feel his own approaching quicker by the second

You gasped loudly when you felt his teeth clamp down onto the flesh of your collarbone. “S-Sunghoon”

The call of his name went in through one ear and out the other as his thrust only continued. He pushed himself deeper, further into your gummy walls to live inside the confinement you gave him.

His mouth still latched onto your collarbone, biting down just hard enough that you could feel the indents of his teeth. You were floored by it.

Tightening around him, you came once again all over his cock with your body shivering from the pleasurable ripple it sent throughout your whole body.

Groaning with his mouth full of your skin, his mouth holding onto your collarbone, his teeth baring onto the bone as he chased after his orgasm.

But with you clenching him, not daring to let him go, Sunghoon painted your once velvet walls pearly white, full of him, just like he wanted.

It was euphoric, feeling how he spilled inside of you.

He let go of your collarbone from his mouth with his semi hard cock still inside of you, he pulled away just enough to see and admire you and that was his biggest mistake.

There infront of him was you glimmering in an afterglow that he can never get tired of. Your collarbone he bit onto now had very faint indents of his teeth on it, your chest rising and falling with heavy breath, your eyes closed shut, lips quivering and your perfect hole fluttering around him.

His eyes trailed down to where the two of you connected to see the very few clumps of his cum spilling out from where it could and he can’t just end it here. He needed more.

He needs to fill you beyond the brim until he himself couldn’t give you anymore and you’ve milked him dry for all his worth as all of it would be inside of you.

You thought that this was the last, like how he promised. But when your legs were suddenly pushed up to your knees and felt the drag of his cock leaving just a little only to be pushed fully back into you.

Your eyes shot wide open as you stared at Sunghoon in bewilderment, it was only supposed to be one more and that was it.

But looking at him all you saw and felt was pure determination.

“C’mon you can give me more. I know you can”

——

[liuhsng]

✩ˎˊ˗ between the shelves ( sjy ! ) — part 1

✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader ⤷ word count — 18.7k ⤷ taglist for the series — open ! ⤷ warning/s — a/b/o au, foul language, fem!reader, strangers to lovers trope, kinda oblivious!jake, jake is in love-love, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread ⤷ a/n — long as hell that it needed a part 2 + i was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this.

✩ˎˊ˗ summary: as the only son of a prestigious family and the student council secretary, sim jaeyun—or as his friends like to call him: jake has always been at the top. admired, respected, and burdened by responsibility. he’s used to handling everything himself, ensuring perfection in all that he does. and then there was you, someone he had always seen but never had the chance to approach, until fate handed him the opportunity. hiding from relentless admirers, he found himself in the library, where, to his surprise, you weren’t just another passing face. jake has always adored the idea of having a mate, but he never rushed fate, until you. before he knows it, meetings no longer hold his full attention, tasks he once insisted on doing himself are left to others, all so he can be near you.

A thick, leather-bound book rested in Jake’s hands, the pages filled with intricate Old English that he absorbed with minimal effort. The world outside didn’t exist in this moment. No expectations, no responsibilities, just the quiet hum of silence.

As a pureblooded Alpha born into wealth and status, moments like this were rare, but within the walls of the student council room, he could finally breathe.

His desk bore the title Council Secretary, and his scent of pine and oranges lingered in the air. His instincts, so accustomed to composure, were calm.

Until they weren’t.

The sharp bang of wooden doors slamming open shattered the silence, followed immediately by a heavy thud and the unmistakable sound of someone crashing onto the marble floor. A low growl echoed through the room, spilling through the air like a warning, but it was nothing Jake hadn’t heard before.

He shut his book with an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can't even enjoy my mornings because of you mutts.”

Lifting his gaze, he saw Ni-ki sprawled out on the floor, groaning in pain, while Jay towered over him, phone in hand, grinning so wide his sharp canines glinted under the lights.

“That was pathetic,” Jay snickered, snapping another picture of Ni-ki’s crumpled state. “Hold still, I need a better angle.”

“Go to hell,” Ni-ki grumbled, pushing himself up on his elbows, glaring up at Jay like he was debating whether to lunge at him or play dead.

Jake sighed, setting his book down with patience before looking at them both with a deadpan stare. “If you two are done turning the council room into a wrestling ring, get out.”

Jay only grinned wider, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Relax your ass, Sim, we’re just having a little fun.”

Jake arched a brow. “And I was having a little peace. But as always, you two can’t seem to exist without disturbing the entire building.”

Ni-ki groaned again, rolling onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “For the record, I was thrown into the room.”

Jay shrugged. “You were in my way.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. Annoyed but amused, he couldn’t fight the small smile. This was routine, his peace ruined before the day even began. With a sigh, he leaned back. “Where are the others?”

Jay offered a hand to Ni-ki, easily pulling the younger Alpha up with no effort. As he did, he casually answered Jake’s question. “Heeseung, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jungwon are with their mates doing God knows what, and yeah, we're here, I guess.” He shot a look at Ni-ki, who was brushing himself off, looking more disgruntled than hurt.

Ni-ki, still in the middle of recovering his pride, added, “Jungwon was asking what you'd like for breakfast too.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the polished wood of his desk. He took a second to think, then hummed. “Any sandwich and tea will do.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. “So Australian of you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, the smile still there. He couldn’t help it, his friends knew how to get under his skin but also how to make him laugh when he least expected it. “Fuck off,” he said with a laugh.

Jay and Ni-ki grinned before heading to their usual spots, each claiming their own desk within the spacious council room. They sprawled themselves out on the comfortable office chairs, limbs loose and postures unguarded, a contrast to the cold, poised way they carried themselves outside these walls.

Here, there was no need for their masks of control, no need to uphold the weight of their bloodlines with every carefully measured movement.

Jay leaned back, arms behind his head, his smirk fading into something more relaxed. Ni-ki, on the other hand, kicked his feet up on the desk in front of him. There was no need for perfection here, no calculating gazes from the elders who measured their worth in status and tradition.

Jake watched them settle, his fingers still tapping absentmindedly against his desk. It was an unspoken truth between them—this was a place where they weren’t heirs weighed down by the legacies of their families.

Jay let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” His voice was lazy, but there was curiosity beneath it.

Jake smirked, finally picking up his book again. “Not my problem until the first meeting starts. So, until then, entertain yourselves.” He flipped a page lazily before adding with a chuckle, “Besides, Jungwon’s the one holding it today.”

Jay let out a low whistle. “Poor guy.”

Ni-ki snorted. “He volunteered.”

“Still,” Jay stretched his arms over his head, “it’s cruel of you to let the kid handle all those reports first thing in the morning.”

Jake barely spared him a glance, amusement flickering in his eyes. “He’s the council president. He can handle it.”

Ni-ki hummed in agreement, already reclining further into his chair. “Fair point.”

Their silence was short-lived.

“Babe, I swear it wasn’t me!”

The frantic plea was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps before the doors were slammed open, again.

Sunoo stumbled into the room, half-dragged by Sunghoon’s sister, who had his wrist in an iron grip. Her eyes burned with fury, a stark contrast to Sunoo’s desperate expression as he tried and failed to reason with her.

Behind them, three familiar Omegas rushed in, all trying to calm her down, but their efforts were useless. She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

The rest of the council members, scattered around the room, barely reacted, other than to smirk at the scene unfolding before them.

Jay leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Well, this is new. Usually, Sunoo's the one doing the chasing.”

Ni-ki snickered. “What did he even do?”

Sunoo shot them both a panicked look. “I didn't do anything!”

Sunghoon’s sister tightened her grip, making the pink-haired Alpha yelp. “Liar.”

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, snapping his book shut with a dull thud before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Every damn morning with you people.”

Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jungwon strolled in, Jungwon balancing a tray of drinks while Heeseung and Sunghoon carried bags of food. Sunghoon placed his down on the table with a lazy smirk. “Yeah, because clearly, I’m the one who forgot her coffee order. Really, Kim?”

Heeseung snorted as he set his own bag down. “Man, you really dug your own grave this time.”

Ni-ki snickered. “Or, y’know, not let your mate plot your downfall first thing in the morning.”

Jake shook his head, leaning back in his chair, already done with the day despite it barely starting. “Someone just make sure they don’t destroy the place before the first meeting.”

Jungwon, the only one actually preparing for said meeting, sighed. “Not my job.”

This was gonna be a long day.

Jake sat at his desk, his chin propped up on one hand as he lazily flipped through his book. His classroom wasn’t exactly his first choice for a hangout spot, but with an hour to kill before class started, the others had somehow decided it was the perfect place to loiter.

Heeseung and Jay were sprawled on the desks near the window, bickering over something trivial. Sunghoon sat with his arms crossed, seemingly unbothered, while Ni-ki stole Jungwon’s notebook, flipping through it with fake curiosity. Sunoo was slumped in a chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, looking as if he was ready to nap at any second.

The rest of the students in the room? Staring.

Seven pureblooded Alphas gathered in one place was enough to make anyone second-guess their presence. To most, they weren’t just intimidating—they were untouchable. A different breed entirely. Powerful, respected, envied. Gods among the mortals.

Jay stretched, letting out a loud yawn. “Y’know, for a guy who complains about us ruining his peace, you sure don’t kick us out.”

Jake didn’t even glance up from his book. “Because you’d just follow me somewhere else.”

Sunghoon snorted. “He’s got a point.”

Ni-ki, still flipping through Jungwon’s notes, suddenly looked up. “So, what’s the plan? We just sit here and let people gawk at us for the next hour?”

Sunoo groaned, tilting his head back. “Sounds exhausting.”

Jake sighed, shutting his book with a quiet thud. He knew better than to expect a moment of true peace when his friends were involved.

Jungwon tapped his fingers against the desk, glancing at the clock before looking around at the others. “We could go out and eat an early lunch or something.”

Jay, still balanced on the back legs of his chair, stretched his arms over his head. “Tempting, but do I look like I wanna move?”

Heeseung smirked. “Or… we could buy a new car.”

For a second, the room was silent. Then, with zero hesitation, the rest of them hummed in agreement.

“We should,” Sunghoon said, nodding as if it were the most logical idea.

“Yeah,” Ni-ki added, “we definitely should.”

Jake leaned back, unimpressed. “You guys can barely get out of those chairs.”

Sunoo, still twirling his pen between his fingers, shot Jake a lazy grin. “Exactly. We have the money, the connections, the resources… but no energy.”

Jay sighed dramatically, rubbing a hand over his face. “Such is the burden of being rich.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Heeseung ignored him, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Okay, but if we were actually buying one, what are we thinking? Another sports car? Something imported?”

“I’m feeling a custom build,” Sunghoon mused, pretending to consider the idea.

Jay grinned. “We could each get one.”

“We could,” Ni-ki agreed, nodding sagely.

They all sat there for a second, deep in thought. Not a single one of them moved.

Jake smirked, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Jungwon shook his head, muttering under his breath before sitting up straighter. “Okay, so lunch?”

Sunoo waved a lazy hand. “Too much effort.”

Jay sighed, finally letting his chair drop back onto all four legs. “Then what? We just sit here and rot?”

“Pretty much,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

Jake, who had been half-listening while flipping through the last few pages of his book, finally closed it with a soft thud. He stretched his arms over his head, rolling out his shoulders. “Well, unlike you guys, I actually have something to do. Gotta return this.”

Jay raised a brow. “You need someone to come with you?”

Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not like Ni-ki. I can survive a walk to the library alone.”

Ni-ki, who had been aimlessly tapping his fingers against the desk, snapped his head up. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jake just shot him a grin before swiftly making his exit, his laughter echoing down the hallway as the youngest grumbled under his breath.

Jay snickered, nudging Ni-ki with his foot. “You gonna take that?”

Ni-ki huffed, slumping further into his chair. “I’m letting him have his moment. He’s gonna trip on air soon enough, and when he does, I’ll be there.”

Sunghoon smirked. “I’ll pay to see that.”

Luminous shades of gold bled through the library windows, casting soft halos of light over towering shelves lined with countless books. Dust particles floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the gentle glow, as the faint scent of aged paper and ink settled like a quiet hum in the silence.

Jake’s slow steps echoed against the polished floor, the only sound aside from the occasional page turning or scratch of a pen. Most students were in class, leaving the library nearly empty, just the way he liked it.

With one hand shoved deep into his pocket and the other gripping a newly found book by some historical author he had always meant to read, he allowed himself to get lost in the moment.

His gaze trailed along the rows of shelves, taking in the endless spines of stories and knowledge, before drifting toward the farthest section of the library, where the soft rustling of pages caught his attention.

There was someone else here. You.

Your figure stood among the books, reaching up to return a few to their rightful place. The way your fingers traced the spines, the natural ease in your movements—it was almost mesmerizing. Like you belonged to this place, like the library itself was an extension of you.

His grip on his book tightened. Where had he seen you before?

His gaze lingered on the soft flush of your cheeks, the way your lips, plump and untouched by any trace of worry, parted ever so slightly as you focused on the books in your hands. Everything about you was delicate, and it made something inside him stir.

Jake swallowed, shaking his head as if to clear the sudden haze clouding his thoughts.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft thud of a book slipping from your hands.

The moment it hit the ground never came; because he was already moving, instincts sharper than his own awareness. His fingers wrapped around the spine just in time, catching it with ease. The world around him blurred, fading into irrelevance as he looked up, only to find you reaching for it at the same time.

Your fingers brushed against his: warm, soft, fleeting. But it was enough. Enough for something to stir deep within him, a current running sharp and fast through his veins. His grip on the book tightened slightly before he forced himself to loosen it, finally handing it back to you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice gentle, but it rang through his ears like a bell.

Jake swallowed. Up close, you were even more unreal than he had thought. The golden light framed you like you belonged to another world entirely.

And then, there was your scent.

Honey and seawater. Sweet, but fresh. Familiar yet foreign. It was intoxicating, wrapping around his senses and settling into his lungs like something meant to be there.

His own scent spiked before he could stop it—warm, rich, deep, like oranges and pine, crisp air after rain. Not overpowering, but enough. Enough to see your breath hitch, your lashes flutter as you blinked up at him.

Jake silently thanked the universe at that moment for making him a pureblooded Alpha. Because if he weren’t—if he didn’t have the control, the discipline, the sheer force of will ingrained into his very being, he might’ve done something reckless.

He might’ve stepped closer. Might’ve let himself breathe you in for a second longer. Might’ve said something that would betray the way his entire body was suddenly on high alert, every nerve tuned in to you.

But instead, he did what he did best. He played it off, a lazy smirk curving at the corner of his lips as if this moment hadn’t just turned his world on its axis.

“No problem,” he finally said, voice smooth, calculated.

He made sure his tone was effortless, made sure his expression stayed composed, like his heart wasn’t hammering against his ribs, like his senses weren’t still tangled up in the traces of your scent lingering in the air.

He let his gaze flicker over you one last time before he forced himself to look away, shifting his weight slightly, fingers drumming against the cover of his book as if his entire body wasn’t still hyper-aware of your presence.

You gave him a small nod, your lips curling into a polite smile before turning back to the shelves. And that should’ve been the end of it. That should’ve been his cue to walk away, to let this moment dissolve into nothing more than a short interaction.

But Jake didn’t move.

Instead, he stood there, gripping his book a little too tightly, watching as you reached for another volume on the top shelf, your fingers brushing against the spine with ease. He watched as a stray beam of light caught in your hair, making it glow, as if the sun itself had taken a liking to you. He watched the way your lashes fluttered when you scanned the titles, the way your lips parted slightly in concentration.

And for the first time in a long time, Jake found himself at a complete loss.

He had met hundreds—thousands—of people. He had seen beauty in all forms, had been in the presence of those who were revered, admired, worshipped even. Yet somehow, none of them had ever managed to unravel him like this. None of them had ever made the air feel heavier, had ever made him question if he had truly seen them before, or if they had only existed in the parts of his mind he hadn’t dared explore.

Why did it feel like he should know you?

“You come here often?” The words left his mouth before he could think better of them, and for a second, he almost cringed at himself. He wasn’t that guy. He could do better than that.

You turned to him, one brow raised in mild amusement. “To the library?”

Jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, that sounded dumb.”

“A little,” you teased, your lips curving into the softest smile. “But to answer your question, I do. I help here when I have free time.”

Something about that made too much sense. You belonged in a place like this, where everything was calm, where the scent of books and ink lingered in the air, where the golden light spilling through the windows made you look almost ethereal.

“Huh,” Jake mused, nodding.

Your brow furrowed slightly. “Why? You don’t come to the library often?”

“Only when I need to,” he admitted with a smirk. “Or when I’m trying to get away from certain people.”

“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. “So, I’m guessing today is one of those days?”

Jake let out a breathy chuckle. “Something like that.” He tilted his head slightly, curiosity getting the better of him. “What about you? You actually like being here?”

Your gaze softened, trailing over the rows of books surrounding you. “Yeah. It’s quiet. Peaceful.” You glanced back at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “And usually free of distractions.”

Jake placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. Are you saying I’m a distraction?”

You bit back a laugh. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to,” he shot back, his smirk widening.

For a moment, silence settled between you both—not the awkward kind, but something softer, something comfortable. Jake found himself memorizing the way the light reflected in your eyes, the way your fingers brushed against the book in your hands absentmindedly.

Then you tilted your head. “What book is that?”

Jake glanced down at the book he had been gripping this entire time. “Something I just finished.”

“Was it good?”

He studied you for a moment before a teasing glint flickered in his gaze. “Maybe you should borrow it and find out.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What if I hate it?”

Jake grinned, tilting his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Then I’d seriously question your taste in books, and possibly in people.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the amused chuckle that escaped. “Wow, so judgmental.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “I have standards.”

You laughed softly, reaching for the book. Your fingers brushed his—warm, electric. Jake’s scent spiked before he could stop it, oranges and pine, rich and inviting.

You didn’t say anything, but you hesitated, your fingers lingering against his for just a fraction longer than necessary. That momentary pause tells him you noticed.

Jake cleared his throat, flexing his fingers slightly before shoving one hand into his pocket. He watched as you flipped open the book, eyes scanning the first few lines. The sunlight filtering through the library windows caught in your hair, giving you an almost ethereal glow. You looked so focused, so at ease, and yet…

There’s something about you that tugs at something buried deep inside him.

“You’re sure we haven’t met before?” he asks, voice quieter this time, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

You glance up, brows furrowing slightly. “You seem familiar.” Your voice is careful, as if testing the words. “And not just because you’re the student council secretary.”

Jake watches you closely as you tilt your head, lost in thought.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” you continue. “At dinners, at events.” A small sigh escapes you. “But I never really cared to remember the faces or names at those things.”

Something in Jake’s chest tightens.

You weren’t like the others, then. The ones who flaunted their family names, who cared too much about appearances, about impressing the right people. You were rich, sure, but you didn’t let it define you.

And somehow, that made you even more intriguing. A slow smirk tugs at the corner of Jake’s lips. “Ouch.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t take it personally. I just never cared about those social circles.”

Jake hums in amusement. “And yet, here we are.”

You arch a brow. “And yet, here we are.”

Jake’s gaze flickers to the book cart beside you, filled with stacks waiting to be returned to their proper places. He tilts his head, considering, then gestures toward it.

“Mind if I help?”

You blink, caught off guard. “You?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What? Think I’m incapable of putting books on a shelf?”

You huff out a small laugh. “I just figured you’d have a class to get to. Or a meeting.”

Jake leans casually against the cart, hands in his pockets, looking completely unbothered. “My classes don’t even start for at least forty minutes or so.” His lips curl into that signature, lazy grin. “Plenty of time to lend a hand.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “And why exactly would the student council secretary want to waste his free time stacking books?”

His grin widens. “Maybe I just like the company.”

You roll your eyes, turning to grab a book from the cart, but before you can, Jake leans in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make you pause.

“Or,” he teases, “are you saying you don’t want a big, strong Alpha helping you?”

You let out a giggle, shaking your head. “Oh, please.”

Jake smirks. “That wasn’t a no.”

You shake your head again, amused, and hand him a book. “Fine, Secretary Sim. Let’s see if you actually know your way around a library.”

He takes it from you with an exaggerated air of confidence. “Prepare to be impressed.”

And just like that, minutes pass, time slipping through your fingers like sand as you and Jake move through the towering shelves, placing books where they belong. What started as a simple task quickly turns into something else entirely, something lighter.

You are nothing but a giggling fit as the pureblooded Alpha standing just a few inches from you recounts stories from his childhood. For someone who always seemed so put-together, so composed, seeing this side of him; one filled with sighs and boyish grins as he talks about his past—it was unexpectedly charming.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, biting back another laugh as you slide a book onto the shelf. “You cried because your tutor forced you to read Alice in Wonderland?”

Jake groans dramatically, running a hand down his face. “I was like… six, okay? And I didn’t just cry—I threw the book.”

You gasp, covering your mouth in mock horror. “The abuse!”

He snorts, shaking his head. “It was self-defense. I thought it was gonna be some fun story about a girl going on an adventure, but it made no sense.”

You stifle a laugh as he leans against the shelf beside you, watching your expression with a knowing smirk. “You think it’s funny?”

You nod, grinning. “It is funny. What kind of kid throws a tantrum over Alice in Wonderland?”

“The kind who got locked in a study room for hours and told he wasn’t leaving until he finished the chapter,” he says, deadpan.

At that, you burst into quiet laughter, shaking your head. “So what changed? You seem pretty into books now.”

Jake exhales, rolling a book between his hands. “Honestly? After that, I refused to read anything for a while. But my mom, she wasn’t having it. She started giving me books that actually interested me. Stories about history, people, real things. And eventually… I don’t know. I got used to it. Liked it, even.”

His voice softens slightly, a hint of sincerity slipping through his usual teasing tone. It makes you pause, watching him a little more closely.

“Guess I should thank my stubborn tutor,” he adds with a lopsided smile. “Even if Alice in Wonderland still haunts me to this day.”

You shake your head, grinning. “Noted. No Wonderland-themed gifts for you.”

Jake chuckles, his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long. Then, with a playful nudge of your shoulder, he steps back, grabbing another book from the cart.

He glances down at the watch strapped to his wrist, and his chest tightens when he sees the time—only ten minutes left before his next class. He exhales through his nose, shoulders dropping slightly.

Why did it feel so heavy to leave? It wasn’t like he wasn’t coming back. It wasn’t like this was the last time he’d see you. But something about walking away now, after all the laughter, after the ease that settled between you both, made his steps feel weighted.

He sets the book down on the cart, rubbing the back of his neck before finally looking at you. “Guess I should get going,” he mutters, not moving just yet.

You tilt your head, a soft, knowing smile gracing your lips. “Duty calls, huh?”

Jake chuckles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”

There’s a second of silence, and he shifts on his feet, reluctant. He knows he should go, his class isn’t going to wait for him—but there's something holding him in place, like an invisible thread still tying him to this moment, to you.

His fingers tap against the side of his thigh, his weight shifting slightly. Then, before he can think twice about it, he blurts out, “You know… I never got your name.”

It’s a poor excuse to stay a little longer, but it’s the truth. He’s heard people mention you before, seen you in passing at events or around school—always just another face in a sea of familiarity. But here, now, under the warm glow of the library, he realizes that knowing of you isn’t the same as knowing you.

And he wants to.

Your eyebrows lift slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift. Then, as if humoring him, you tilt your head, an amused glint in your eyes.

“You mean to tell me you, Sim Jaeyun—Jake, student council secretary—know the names of half the student body but not mine?” you tease lightly, arms crossing over your chest.

Jake scoffs, crossing his own arms in response, mirroring your stance. “Hey, in my defense, most people introduce themselves to me first,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You, on the other hand, just threw books at me and insulted my childhood trauma.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine, fine.” You unfold your arms, watching him for a moment before finally saying, “(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

He just knows he looks stupid right now. Like some love-struck idiot with a boyish grin plastered across his face. But he can’t help it.

Your name fits. It rolls through his mind so easily, as if he’s always known it.

“(Y/N),” he repeats, testing how it feels on his tongue. Yeah. He likes it.

Before he can embarrass himself any further, he takes a step back, pointing lazily at the book still on top of the cart. “Don’t forget to let me know if you hate it,” he teases, a smirk playing at his lips.

You roll your eyes but wave him off with an amused shake of your head.

The brunette Alpha stood at the front of the room, hands in his pockets, the glow of the projector casting sharp shadows across his face.

Another council meeting was in full swing, and the proposal was displayed on the screen behind him—an extensive, well-structured plan covering student initiatives for the next few months. His voice was steady as he spoke.

“As you can see, the proposed projects align with last year’s data on student participation rates. The revisions focus on accessibility, budget efficiency, and—”

A voice interrupted.

“How are you sure this is actually in line with what the student body wants?”

Jake’s sentence cut off. His head tilted slightly, eyes flickering toward the source of the comment—a Beta seated a few rows back, arms crossed, expression laced with casual arrogance.

Silence settled over the room.

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, his fingers curling slightly before flexing out again.

Then, he let out a quiet scoff. The kind that wasn’t amused. The kind that sent tension through the air.

The Beta shifted in his seat, but Jake only raised a brow, taking his time before speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice calm. Too calm. “Did I just spend the last ten minutes breaking down survey data, feedback percentages, and budget adjustments for you to sit there and ask that?”

The Beta blinked.

Jake took a step forward, slowly, hands still in his pockets. “Tell me, do you think I’m just making things up? You think I’m sitting in my room, pulling numbers out of my ass for fun?” His voice was smooth, but the sharpness beneath it was unmistakable.

The room was deathly quiet now.

The Beta’s smirk wavered, but he pushed back. “I just think we should consider if—”

Jake cut him off. “No, see, I actually consider things. That’s why I have reports—real student responses—right here.” He tapped the remote, switching the slide. Pages of survey results filled the screen. “Meanwhile, you’re just speculating.”

Silence.

Jake’s gaze was cold. The Beta looked away.

“Thought so,” Jake muttered, clicking to the next slide as if nothing had happened. “Now, moving on.”

The tension still hung thick in the air, but somewhere near the front, Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged a look—one of amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of their lips.

Heeseung let out a quiet chuckle under his breath, barely audible over the sound of the projector clicking to the next slide. Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from outright grinning.

“Damn,” Heeseung muttered low enough for only those nearby to hear.

Sunghoon, resting his chin lazily against his palm, whispered back, “Should’ve kept his mouth shut.”

The Beta had noticeably shrunk in his seat, his earlier arrogance dissolving under Jake’s scrutiny. His grip tightened around his pen, eyes fixed anywhere but on the secretary at the front of the room.

From the side, Sunoo barely spared him a glance before mumbling, “Serves him right.”

Jake, meanwhile, acted as though nothing had happened, his expression schooled back into indifference. He clicked through another slide, eyes skimming over the proposal details.

Ni-ki and Jay, seated near the back, exchanged glances before grinning. Without a word, Ni-ki held up a fist, and Jay bumped his against it—the silent gesture between them going unnoticed by most.

Well, almost unnoticed.

Jungwon, ever the responsible president, was supposed to be the professional one—the peacemaker. He was meant to keep the meetings under control, not laugh in moments like this. But, really, this was what happened when people tried to provoke them.

Despite knowing better, Jungwon let out a quiet snicker, only to quickly disguise it with a cough, covering his mouth as if clearing his throat. The movement was poorly timed, though, and Sunoo shot him an unimpressed look while Heeseung outright smirked.

Jake, standing at the front, didn’t acknowledge any of it, his attention seemingly fixed on the presentation—but the sharp flicker of amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

“As I was saying before we decided to entertain baseless accusations,” Jake continued smoothly, clicking through another slide, “the budget allocations for each committee have been balanced accordingly. If anyone has actual concerns that don’t involve unnecessary questioning of my ability to read statistics, now would be the time to raise them.”

Silence.

Jungwon pressed his fist against his mouth, eyes crinkling as he fought the urge to laugh again.

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders back before giving a curt nod.

“That’s all for today,” he hummed, voice smooth yet edged with the remnants of his earlier irritation. He didn’t bother with any closing remarks or pleasantries, simply gathering his things with efficiency. His movements were controlled—yet the way he shut his notebook with just a little too much force gave him away.

The second the meeting ended, he was gone. No lingering, no small talk, just a brisk exit, bag slung over his shoulder.

His steps were quick, the grand library doors already in sight, the one place no one would dare follow him.

But just as he turned the corner, voices caught his attention.

“Oh! Jake’s free now, should we go talk to him?”

“He always leaves so quickly after meetings… maybe today’s our chance?”

Jake cursed under his breath.

A group of Omegas stood a few feet away, clearly debating the best way to approach him. He didn’t have the patience for this. Not today. He wasn’t in the right mindset to deal with hopeful smiles or small talk.

More importantly, he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally snap. The last thing he needed was to ruin someone’s day just because he was still irritated from some idiotic remark earlier.

And, god forbid, if someone tried to confess their feelings today, he might actually combust.

He quickened his pace, reaching the library doors just before anyone could call his name. Slipping inside, he shut them behind him with a soft thud, muting the distant voices that nearly caught him.

The Alpha took a breath.

The library was cool, quiet—the perfect escape. His sharp eyes scanned the room, quickly bypassing the open tables and the front desk. He didn’t want to risk being found. Instead, he made a beeline for the very back, where towering bookshelves created a maze of hidden seats.

There, near the last row, he found what he was looking for—a section with oversized shelves, their positioning just awkward enough to create a hidden space. It wasn’t a proper seating area, more like a forbidden section of the library, where students occasionally hid when they wanted to avoid the world.

Perfect.

Jake slipped into the small space, sinking onto the cushioned seat against the back wall. The moment he was out of sight, he let his head rest against the wood, eyes briefly shutting.

Finally. No interruptions. No stupid questions. No unwanted attention. Just silence.

Jake had been there for a while now, longer than he intended, but time always moved differently in the library. The quiet had done little to fully rid him of his earlier frustration, but at least it kept him from doing something he’d regret.

A book rested in his hands, something he had picked up absentmindedly from the shelf near his hiding spot. He wasn’t even sure what it was about, but flipping through the pages had given him something to do.

His fingers hovered over the corner of the page, ready to turn it, when he heard it—soft footsteps approaching, barely audible against the carpeted floors.

Jake tensed.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. If it was one of his friends coming to tease him, or worse, someone trying to get his attention for another pointless conversation, he was going to—

But then the scent of honey and seawater hit him.

It was soft, familiar, cutting through his frustration like a breath of fresh air. Unlike the overwhelming scents he had escaped, this one simply existed, wrapping around him until his grip on the book loosened.

Then, your voice followed. “Are you okay?”

Jake froze.

Your voice was gentle, laced with concern. Not prying, but still searching. And suddenly, whatever sharp retort he had been about to throw out died in his throat.

His annoyance didn’t seem so important anymore.

Jake swallowed, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. It wasn’t like him to be at a loss for words—not in meetings, not in arguments, not even when he was annoyed. But something about you being here, standing so close, made all the tension he had been carrying shift into something else.

Slowly, he lowered the book, tilting his head just enough to meet your gaze. Your expression was soft, brows slightly drawn together, not with curiosity, but with something gentler. You weren’t here to pry or gossip. You just… cared. And suddenly, his frustration felt almost childish.

“I…” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply through his nose.

He wanted to say he was fine, that it was nothing, that it was just another stupid meeting with people who didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.

But the words didn’t come out.

Instead, Jake leaned back against the loveseat, gaze flickering to the pages of his book as if searching for an answer.

You didn’t press him. You didn’t demand an explanation or scold him for running off like his friends probably would have. You just stood there, waiting.

And for some reason, that made him want to answer.

“I just needed some space,” he muttered eventually, his voice quieter than usual, lacking its usual sharpness. He rubbed the back of his neck, finally meeting your eyes again. “Didn’t feel like dealing with anyone.”

You hummed, stepping closer. The scent of you made the last of his annoyance settle into something easier to manage.

“I figured,” you said softly. “You looked upset earlier.”

Jake’s brows lifted slightly, surprised that you had noticed. His friends might’ve caught on, but most people weren’t perceptive enough to see through his carefully crafted walls. Yet, you had.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Some beta tried challenging me mid-meeting,” he muttered, irritation creeping in before he caught himself. Shaking his head, he added, “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Jake found himself watching you instead—how you shifted slightly on your feet, how your fingers curled at your sides as if debating whether or not to reach out. The thought made something in his chest tighten unexpectedly.

Then, after a moment, you spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake let out a quiet laugh, not mocking, but almost… grateful. He shook his head, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. “Nah,” he said, closing the book in his hands. “But… I don’t mind staying here for a while.”

His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, but the way your face softened told him you understood.

You hesitated before shifting your weight slightly. “Can I sit?”

Jake blinked, surprised by the question, then nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. Clearing his throat, he schooled his expression back to neutral and gestured to the spot beside him. “Yeah, of course.”

You settled down next to him, the space between you small but not suffocating. Close enough that he could feel your warmth, but not close enough to be overwhelming.

Jake exhaled slowly, feeling the last remnants of his frustration loosen in his chest. The meeting, the irritation, the unwanted attention from his admirers, it all seemed a little less important now.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the distant rustling of pages and the occasional creak of a chair as someone moved in the main area of the library. But here, hidden away behind the tall shelves, it felt like a world apart.

His fingers idly traced the book’s cover, though he wasn’t really reading. Instead, he was hyper-aware of your knee barely brushing his, your scent lingering; unexpectedly soothing.

“You always come here when you need space?” you asked after a moment, your voice soft, curious but not prying.

Jake tilted his head slightly, considering. “Not always,” he admitted. “But it’s quiet. And no one really thinks to look for me back here.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Except you, apparently.”

You smiled, nudging his arm lightly. “I had a feeling.”

The pureblooded Alpha found himself smiling back—a real one this time. Not forced, not out of politeness, but something small and genuine.

Jake eased back against the wall, shoulders finally relaxing. His fingers tapped absently on the book’s spine, but he wasn’t reading, not when your presence felt more real than the words on the page.

“You know, you always seem to know where to find me,” he mused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You shrugged, tilting your head slightly. “Maybe I just know you better than most, even if I just met you.”

The words settled between you both—not heavy, not awkward, just honest. Jake felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest, something warm.

He studied you for a second longer before shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “Scary thought.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re not that complicated.”

Jake hummed, amused, but didn’t argue. Instead, he let the silence stretch again, though this time, it felt different—more comfortable. The frustration from earlier had nearly faded entirely, replaced by something far less sharp.

After a moment, you reached over, tapping your fingers lightly against the edge of his book. “So, what are you reading?”

Jake glanced down, suddenly remembering he was even holding something. He flipped the book in his hands absentmindedly before handing it over to you. “Something I grabbed off the shelf. Wasn’t really paying attention.”

You took it, skimming the cover. “Mmh, seems interesting.”

Jake scoffed lightly. “You didn’t even read anything yet.”

You grinned. “I have good intuition.”

Jake shook his head, but the amusement lingered in his eyes. He watched as you scanned the cover, the way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration. He didn’t know why, but the sight of you so focused on something so simple made his chest tighten.

He looked away, clearing his throat. “You can borrow it if you want.”

You glanced up at him, lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile. “You sure? I thought you came here to read.”

Jake exhaled a short laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off, gaze flickering to yours before looking away just as quickly. “I think I found something better to focus on.”

The words left his mouth before he could really think about them, and Jake nearly winced at himself. But then you laughed, soft and light—and the tension in his shoulders eased.

You nudged him again, a touch more lingering this time. “Flatterer.”

Jake smirked. “Just saying.”

You tapped your fingers against the book’s spine, tilting your head slightly as you considered something. Then, with an easy smile, you turned to Jake.

“Wanna read it together?”

Jake blinked, caught off guard. “Together?”

You nodded, flipping the book open and patting the space between you both. “Yeah. You said you weren’t really paying attention when you picked it, right? So why not give it a proper chance?”

Jake hesitated for a second, then exhaled through his nose, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips. “You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

You grinned. “Not when I know it’s a good idea.”

Shaking his head, Jake shifted slightly, leaning in just enough so he could read over your shoulder as you settled into the first few pages. The closeness wasn’t something he was used to—at least, not like this. It wasn’t suffocating. Instead, it felt warm, your scent wrapping around him in a way that slowly untangled the tension from his limbs.

For a few minutes, the only sound between you both was the quiet rustle of pages turning. Then—

“Oh my god,” you murmured, biting back a laugh.

Jake glanced at you, brow furrowed. “What?”

You pointed at a line of dialogue, barely able to hold in your giggle. “My love for you burns like the eternal sun, scorching and unyielding in its devotion.”

You turned to him, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Scorching and unyielding?”

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew I picked up something weird.”

You nudged him playfully. “No, no, this is great. Keep reading.”

Jake huffed but followed along as you continued. Another dramatic line came up, something about hearts entwining like ivy around stone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling again.

“You’re laughing,” Jake accused, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.

You nodded, grinning. “Because this is so overly dramatic. Do people actually talk like this?”

Jake smirked, flipping the page. “Maybe in, like, the 1800s.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jake. I think you should take notes. Maybe next time you wanna woo an Omega, try saying, ‘My devotion to you is like the tides, endless and drawn to the moon’s call.’”

Jake nearly choked. “Absolutely not.”

Your laughter echoed softly through the library’s quiet corners, warm and easy. Jake grinned despite himself, the bitterness in his scent from earlier fading entirely, replaced by something softer, warm oranges and fresh pine, subtle but there.

You inhaled lightly, the change making your chest flutter just a bit. Without thinking, you smiled.

Jake noticed.

His gaze flickered to you, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “What?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing.”

Jake wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he let the moment settle, let the warmth of your laughter and the ridiculous book between you both fill the space.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically, flipping another page. “Let’s see just how much worse this gets.”

For a while, you read in silence, the occasional rustle of a page the only sound. The library's soft glow wrapped your hidden corner in warmth, making it feel even more secluded, like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you.

Jake found himself enjoying the book despite its overly dramatic writing, maybe because you were reading it too. Your amused huffs and quiet comments made it more entertaining than it should have been. But after a while, he noticed something.

You had grown quiet.

Too quiet.

Jake subtly glanced at you from the corner of his eye, lips twitching when he realized what was happening. Your blinks were getting slower, your posture more relaxed, and the way your fingers had stopped fidgeting with the edge of the page told him—without a doubt—you were dozing off.

He let out a breathless chuckle, barely a sound, shaking his head. You really do have a way of catching me off guard, huh?

For a moment, he debated waking you, but something about the peaceful look on your face stopped him. Instead, Jake hesitated for only a second before moving carefully.

With the gentleness only a pureblooded Alpha raised on traditional etiquette could have, he shifted ever so slightly, angling his shoulder toward you. Then, just as lightly, he guided your head to rest against him.

You stirred for the briefest moment, instinctively snuggling a little closer to his side.

Jake immediately froze. His whole body tensed.

His heart skipped a beat.

It was ridiculous, but the warmth of you against him, the way your scent wrapped around him so effortlessly, made his thoughts stumble.

He swallowed, exhaling slowly through his nose, trying to will away the sudden tightness in his chest. This is fine. It’s nothing.

You were just tired. And he was just being considerate. That’s what an Alpha was supposed to do, right? Protect, provide comfort, ensure safety.

So why did it feel like something far more intimate?

He swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the book still open in his lap. The words blurred slightly as his mind reeled, but he kept reading anyway, if only to distract himself from the fact that you were resting against him, trusting him enough to do so.

Outside, the library remained as quiet as ever. The world carried on.

But for Jake, sitting there in the dim light, your soft breathing evening out against his side, something shifted.

And he wasn’t sure he could ever shift it back.

Your breath was steady, your warmth pressed lightly against him, and for a moment, Jake thought you had fully drifted off.

But then, just as he was about to return his attention to the book, you stirred slightly, shifting against his side.

Your voice, quiet and laced with sleep, barely broke the hush of the library.

"Wake me up in fifteen minutes?"

You mumbled the words, your voice slurring just the tiniest bit.

Jake stilled.

He looked down at you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek, your breathing slow and deep. The way you said it—so trusting, so unguarded—made something warm unfurl in his chest.

He exhaled softly, barely above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice when he responded.

"Sure, omega. Sure."

It was the softest he had ever spoken. The gentlest he had ever let himself be.

Jake didn’t know if you heard it, if your drowsy mind even registered the way his voice had dipped into something almost tame.

But he didn’t care.

Because as you let out a content sigh, sinking just a little bit further into his side, he knew one thing for certain—

Fifteen minutes wouldn't be enough.

The library stayed still, the only sound a distant rustle of pages. Late afternoon light streamed through tall windows, casting a warm glow over your hidden corner.

Jake, who had only meant to let you rest for fifteen minutes, had somehow drifted off himself.

His breathing was even, his frame relaxed, and without realizing it, he had shifted closer. His head had dipped, resting atop yours, while your body had curled just slightly into his side.

The scent of oranges and pine surrounded you, warmer now, softened by sleep, no longer laced with the bitterness from earlier.

For the first time that day, everything felt at peace.

Until your eyelids fluttered open.

You blinked slowly, your body still heavy with sleep. The warmth against you registered first, followed by the weight on your head. It took your drowsy mind a moment to process that Jake had fallen asleep, too—that you had both somehow ended up nestled against each other.

Your cheeks warmed instantly.

Careful not to wake him, you shifted, his uniform brushing against your skin. Slowly, you reached into your skirt pocket, fingers curling around your phone. You turned the screen on—

And immediately panicked.

You had overslept.

By an hour.

Your breath hitched, and you nearly jolted upright, but Jake stirred at the movement, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

You froze.

His head shifted slightly against yours before settling once more, his arm now loosely resting against your side, as if unconsciously keeping you in place.

Your heart was practically in your throat.

You should wake him up. You needed to wake him up.

You hesitated, phone still clutched in your hand as you weighed your options.

Jake was still fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady, completely at ease for the first time all day.

Something about that made you pause.

Carefully, despite the awkward angle, you tilted your head up just slightly—just enough to get a proper look at him.

And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Up close, he looked softer, more serene than the composed, ever-efficient student council secretary he always presented himself as. His brows, usually furrowed in focus, were relaxed. His long lashes rested gently against his skin, and his lips, often pressed into a firm line, were now slightly parted.

Even his scent of warm oranges and fresh pine seemed calmer now, no longer edged with irritation or exhaustion.

You swallowed, feeling your heart skip a beat.

Jake had always been handsome, but there was something about seeing him like this, unguarded, peaceful—that made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t quite know how to handle.

The logical part of you knew you had to wake him up. It was already late, and staying like this any longer would only make things worse.

But a part of you, the part that wasn’t ready to let go of this warmth just yet, hesitated.

He just looked so… at peace.

Yet you let out a soft sigh before gently nudging his shoulder. “Jake,” you murmured, voice hushed in the quiet of the library.

He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping him as his lashes fluttered, struggling against the remnants of sleep. His brows furrowed, and he shifted, blinking a few times as if trying to register where he was.

Then, his body tensed.

The realization of just how close you were hit him all at once—your warmth pressed against his side, your head resting against his shoulder, his own head tilted atop yours. His breath hitched as he sat up slightly, eyes widening.

“S—Sorry,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

You waved a hand, amused. “It’s fine. You looked like you needed that rest.”

Jake blinked, processing your words before exhaling, ruffling his already tousled hair. “Shit… What time is it?”

“Almost six,” you replied, stretching slightly.

His eyes widened slightly as he ran a hand through his hair again, the weight of lost time settling in. “Shit. Did I keep you in here? Don’t you have anything to do?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s a different student covering the night shift," you explained. “Library closes at eight anyway.”

Jake hummed in acknowledgment, but then you sighed, leaning back slightly.

“Great,” you muttered sarcastically.

Jake frowned. “What?”

You huffed. “I have no one to pick me up.”

Jake blinked at you for a moment before tilting his head, expression unreadable. “Huh?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just studying you, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered.

The Alpha tilted his head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, why don’t you just drive?”

You blinked at him before letting out a small laugh, shaking your head. “My car isn't here.”

Jake still looked puzzled. “Don’t you have a driver?”

You sighed, leaning back against the loveseat. “It’s my designated driver’s day off,” you explained. “So, I had to hitch a ride with a friend this morning.”

Jake hummed, nodding slowly, but when you casually mentioned her name, his eyes flickered with surprise.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “You’re friends with Heeseung’s mate?”

You nodded with a small smile, amused by the way his expression changed, like he was processing that information and filing it away for later. “Yeah,” you replied. “We’ve been close for a while.”

Jake let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Huh. Small world.”

“You sound surprised,” you teased, raising a brow at him.

He shrugged, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “I mean, kind of? I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know," he admitted. “It’s just—Heeseung’s mate is usually around him or the others. I’ve never really seen her with you.”

You grinned. “That’s because we hang out outside of school.”

Jake let out an amused huff. “Figures.” He leaned back against the bookshelf, arms crossed. “So, you really have no way of getting home?”

You sighed dramatically, resting your head against the back of the loveseat. “Nope. Stuck here until I figure something out.”

Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s great,” he muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“Right?” you replied, just as sarcastically. “Super great. Love this for me.”

Jake shifted in his seat, hesitating for a moment. You watched as his fingers tapped idly against his arm, his lips pressing into a thin line like he was debating something in his head.

Then, finally, he sighed through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. “I could drive you,” he said, but there was an unusual softness to his voice, like he was testing the waters.

You blinked up at him, caught slightly off guard. “You?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he looked like he was second-guessing himself. “I mean—only if you’re okay with that. If you’d rather call someone else or wait, that’s fine, too.” He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, but the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes gave him away. “I just figured… it’d be better than being stuck here.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to accept, but because he looked unsure, like he wanted to help but didn’t want to overstep.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean—if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”

Jake exhaled, something in his posture easing at your words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “That would actually be really helpful.”

His lips quirked up slightly, and he nodded. “Alright. Let’s get out of here, then.”

Jake stood up from the leather loveseat, stretching his arms slightly before turning to you with a playful glint in his eyes. With an exaggerated gesture, he extended his hand toward you, palm up, and dipped his head slightly.

“After you, (Y/N)—the ever-so-pretty Omega,” he teased, his voice dripping with mock formality.

You laughed, rolling your eyes but still taking his hand as you played along. “Why, thank you, my kind Alpha," you replied, matching his tone with an amused smirk.

As your fingers briefly brushed against his, Jake let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re something else,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words—only a quiet fondness he wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge yet.

As you both stepped outside the hidden reading nook, the warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the library windows. The golden light painted long shadows across the floor, making the whole place feel even more serene.

Just as you reached the front doors, you suddenly stopped and turned to Jake. “Wait here for a second,” you told him, motioning for him to stay put.

Jake furrowed his brows. “Where are you going?”

You pointed toward the reception desk. “I need to grab my bag. I’ll be quick.”

He nodded, leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched you jog over. You made your way to the desk, where the student taking over the night shift was already setting up for her hours ahead. She glanced up as you approached, blinking in surprise before a teasing grin spread across her face.

“So… you and Jake, huh?” she mused, raising a knowing brow as she handed you your bag.

You blinked before letting out a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, please,” you scoffed. “It’s not like that.”

She hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You do know he’s waiting for you by the door like a damn gentleman, right? That’s Alpha behavior if I’ve ever seen it.”

You rolled your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “He’s just giving me a ride home. That’s all.”

She smirked, resting her chin on her palm. “Mhm. And I’m just a regular student who doesn’t notice things.”

Shaking your head, you turned away, laughing under your breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder.

“Tell Jake I said hi,” she teased back, making you shake your head again with a smile as you returned to the entrance.

Jake glanced at you as you rejoined him. “Took you long enough,” he said, though there was no actual bite to his tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Patience, Jake.”

He scoffed, but then reached out, tugging your bag off your shoulder before you could react. “Here, let me.”

You blinked at him. “Jake, I can carry my own bag.”

“I know,” he said easily, slinging it over his own shoulder like it weighed nothing. “But I want to.”

He pushed open the library doors with a smirk. “Let’s get going.”

You only grinned, stepping outside beside him, the air crisp as the last remnants of daylight clung to the sky.

The car ride home was comfortable, the kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward, just easy. The city lights flickered past as the sky deepened into shades of navy, the last traces of sunset fading beyond the horizon.

You sat snugly in the passenger seat, curled slightly toward Jake as he drove with practiced ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gear shift.

“So, mate,” you said, attempting your best Australian accent, dragging the word out obnoxiously. “Where we headin’, aye?”

Jake nearly choked on his laughter. “Oh my god, what was that?”

“My perfect Aussie impression,” you grinned.

He shot you a look, lips twitching. “That was a crime against my entire country.”

“Oi,” you protested, making your voice deeper. “That’s offensive, innit?”

Jake shook his head, amused. “Now you just sound British.”

You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Jake just grinned, shaking his head as he made a turn.

“Take a left up here,” you directed, still giggling.

He followed without question, and as the road stretched out before you, the surroundings became quieter, lined with trees and distant estate homes. Soon, large iron gates loomed ahead.

Jake whistled lowly. “Fancy.”

You snorted, shooting him a look before gesturing around the car’s sleek interior. “Oh, please. Stop acting like you’re not used to the same lifestyle.”

Jake smirked, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “Okay, fair point,” he admitted. “But you have to admit, this is some next-level rich.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Says the guy driving a literal sports car.”

Jake chuckled, tapping the wheel. “Touché.”

The soft purr of the engine filled the space as the car eased forward, headlights illuminating the long road ahead. Soon, the massive gates loomed before you, standing tall and pristine under the dimming sky.

Jake took it in, lips quirking. “Still fancy.”

You hummed, reaching for the intercom, but at the last second, an idea sparked. You smirked and leaned back. “You do it.”

Jake raised a brow. “Me?”

You nodded, barely holding back a grin. “Just say… special delivery.”

He gave you a look, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. With a small shake of his head, he rolled down the window and pressed the call button. A second later, a static click sounded.

“Special delivery,” Jake said smoothly, voice rich with amusement.

There was a brief pause—then, with a soft beep, the gates creaked open.

You burst out laughing, leaning back in your seat. Jake just shook his head as he pulled forward, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” he mused. “That it actually worked or that you set me up for it.”

“You just have that kind of voice,” you teased, still grinning.

Jake smirked, flicking his gaze toward you. “Oh yeah? You like my voice that much?”

You groaned, reaching over to shove his arm. “Drive, Sim.”

As the gates opened fully, Jake eased the car forward, and the moment you passed through, the estate unfolded before him like something straight out of a movie.

The long driveway was paved with smooth cobblestone, flanked by lush, towering trees that cast intricate shadows beneath the soft glow of vintage-style street lamps.

Vibrant flower beds lined the path, a carefully curated mix of imported and native flora blooming in perfect harmony. The air smelled fresh, carried by the evening breeze.

Jake let out a low whistle as he took in the sight, his fingers drumming against the wheel. “Alright, I take it back. This is next-level rich.”

You smirked, watching his expression shift as you approached the heart of the estate. “Mhmm.”

The trees eventually gave way to a pristine white mansion that stood tall against the twilight sky. The grand structure was illuminated by soft golden lights, casting a warm glow against the cool evening.

Right in the middle of the circular driveway, a massive, intricately designed fountain stood proudly, water cascading from its tiers in a soothing rhythm.

Jake’s gaze flicked to the various luxury and imported sports cars parked carelessly around the front, some you recognized as your family’s, others belonging to guests or relatives who were likely visiting.

At that, Jake let out a scoff, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Okay, now this just reminds me of our house.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly as you glanced at him. “Told you.”

He snorted. “Our parents really went all out, didn’t they?”

“They always do.” You sighed, leaning back into your seat. “Big houses, big cars, big expectations.”

Jake glanced at you briefly before turning back to the road, guiding the car toward the entrance. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice softer. “Big everything.”

There was a moment of silence, the quiet hum of the car filling the space.

Then, in true Jake fashion, he smirked. “But, to be fair, at least we’re not the ones worrying about car maintenance.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Small mercies, Sim. Small mercies.”

Before you could even reach for the door handle, Jake suddenly clicked his tongue. “Nope.”

You blinked at him just as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out in one swift motion. His door shut with a quiet thud, and within seconds, he was already rounding the front of the car, effortlessly smooth as always.

The moment he pulled open the passenger door for you, he grinned. “Go on, princess. Fancy estates require fancy treatment.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head in amusement as you took his offered hand and stepped out onto the driveway. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he quipped, the corners of his eyes crinkling with that familiar, boyish smile.

Before you could fire back a response, the large wooden doors of the mansion suddenly swung open. The warm glow of the foyer lights spilled onto the marble steps, casting long shadows across the pristine entryway.

Standing in the doorway was your mother, poised yet undeniably elegant, dressed in a silk blouse and tailored pants. The usual sharpness in her gaze was softened, just slightly—with both worry and amusement as her eyes flickered between you and Jake, who was still casually holding your hand.

Her lips quirked up the slightest bit. “Well,” she mused, arms crossing. “It seems you’ve had quite the evening.”

Jake, ever the charmer, straightened up, offering a polite yet playful smile. “Good evening, Mrs. (L/N),” he greeted smoothly, his posture changing into something more formal yet undeniably confident.

You, on the other hand, simply sighed and shot him a look before turning to your mother. “Mom, please don’t start.”

Your mother let out a light laugh, though her eyes still held traces of concern. “I wasn’t going to.” Then, her gaze flickered to Jake’s sleek black sports car parked in the driveway. “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t arrive in something flashier, Mr. Sim.”

Jake blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, how do you know me?”

Your mother let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, Jake, dear. I’ve known you since you were in diapers.”

You and Jake exchanged equally confused glances before looking back at her.

Your mother smirked knowingly. “Your parents and I have been friends for years. We see each other at events all the time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

Jake scoffed in disbelief, rubbing the back of his neck. “Huh. Well, that’s news to me.” Then, he turned to you, raising a brow. “Did you know about this?”

You simply shrugged. “Nope.”

Jake let out an amused chuckle, shaking his head. “Figures.”

Your mother, still thoroughly entertained, placed a hand on her hip. “Well, now that we’ve established that, how about you join us for dinner? I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

Jake straightened slightly, shifting into that polite, well-mannered version of himself that only surfaced in formal settings. “I appreciate the offer, ma’am,” he said smoothly, voice respectful but firm. “But my parents are expecting me back home soon.”

Your mother hummed, nodding in understanding. “That’s a shame. Maybe next time, then.”

“Definitely,” Jake agreed with a small grin before turning back to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah. Drive safe, Jake.”

He gave you a two-finger salute before slipping back into his sleek black sports car. The engine purred to life, the sound low and smooth, as he backed out of the pristine driveway.

You didn’t move, not even when the taillights faded into the distance. You waited until his car was completely out of sight before finally turning toward the open doorway.

The moment you stepped inside, your mother wasted no time.

“So,” she drawled, shutting the door behind you with a smirk that spelled nothing but trouble. “Jake Sim, huh?”

You sighed. “Mom.”

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence as she followed you further into the house. “He’s handsome. And he clearly dotes on you.”

“Mom.”

“Oh, and the way he opened the door for you? Adorable.”

You sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair as you kicked off your shoes by the entrance. “Mom, I just met him—literally today.”

Your mother raised a perfectly manicured brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the grand staircase railing. The warm chandelier light made the gold accents of her jewelry glint as she smirked at you. “Well, he certainly doesn’t act like it,” she quipped. “That boy was looking at you like an Alpha who’s been courting you for years.”

Your jaw dropped. “Mom! That is not—”

She cut you off with a knowing laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, sweetheart, please. The way he opened your door? The way he stood just a little too close while you were talking?” She shook her head with mock disbelief. “And you’re telling me you just met?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I swear, you’re worse than Dad.”

Your mom gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Excuse me?” Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “Speaking of your father, I’m pretty sure he’d approve of Jake.”

You stared at her, utterly exasperated. “Oh my god.”

She grinned. “What? He’s well-mannered, respectful, and from a good family. Plus, he drives a nice car. You know how your father feels about cars.”

You groaned louder, turning on your heel. “I’m going to bed before you start planning our wedding.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me!” she called out, amusement laced in her voice. Then, just as you reached your door, she added, “You'd make a cute pair, don’t you think?”

You slammed your door shut as her laughter echoed down the hall.

Lunch had just begun, and the halls buzzed with the usual midday energy, students spilling out of classrooms, voices overlapping, shoes scuffing against the polished floors. Jake walked alongside his usual group, all casually making their way toward the cafeteria.

“Man, I am starving,” Jay groaned, stretching his arms. “What’s for lunch today?”

“Something fancy, probably,” Sunghoon replied with a shrug. “They said it’s steak.”

Ni-ki perked up at that. “Oh, hell yeah.”

“I hope it’s actually good steak,” Sunoo chimed in, adjusting his bag strap. “Not the rubbery kind they sometimes serve.”

The group chuckled, but Jake wasn’t paying much attention. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his gaze subtly scanning the hallway. It wasn’t obvious, he wasn’t desperate or anything, but he noticed the lack of a certain presence.

You weren’t there. It was weird. He hadn’t even known you for that long, yet your absence was noticeable.

His phone remained silent in his pocket, no texts or missed calls from you.

“Hey, we’re going,” Jungwon called over his shoulder as the group neared the cafeteria entrance.

Jake hesitated. “Actually,” he said, slowing his steps, “I need to finish up some paperwork. I’ll eat later.”

That got their attention.

Sunoo immediately narrowed his eyes. “You always say that.”

“Yeah, bro, what’s new?” Heeseung added, shaking his head.

Jay sighed, already tired. “Dude, just go. We all know you won’t eat properly if you’re buried in council work.”

“Exactly,” Sunghoon agreed. “We’d rather deal with you now than later when you’re sleep-deprived and grumpy.”

Jake waved them off lazily. “Yeah, yeah,” he shot them a grin before turning in the opposite direction. But instead of heading toward the council office, he found himself walking toward the library.

The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere was different, it was quieter, calmer, with the faint scent of books in the air. His sharp eyes scanned the room, expecting to find you tucked away in your usual corner.

But you weren’t there.

He frowned slightly.

Instead, his gaze landed on the student librarian at the front desk, the same one who had seen you leaving with him last night. She noticed him instantly, and before he could even say a word, a slow, knowing grin stretched across her face.

Jake narrowed his eyes. He already didn’t like that look. “Where is she?” he asked, his tone neutral but firm.

The grin only widened. “Oh? Looking for someone, Sim?”

Jake exhaled sharply, unimpressed. “Her classroom. What floor?”

The student hummed, resting her chin on her palm. “And why would I tell you that?”

Jake leveled her with a flat stare. “Because I’m asking nicely.”

She clicked her tongue, dragging out the moment just to mess with him.

“Third floor,” she finally relented, her grin turning smug. “Room 3-A.”

Jake didn’t waste another second. Without another word, he turned on his heel, already making his way out.

But even as he left, he could still hear her barely suppressed laughter behind him.

Jake wasn’t the type to go looking for people. If anything, people usually came looking for him, whether it was for council matters, social obligations, or just random confessions.

But today, instead of heading to lunch with the boys, he found himself climbing the stairs to the third floor, hands tucked into his pockets.

The student librarian had given him your classroom number with an all-too-knowing grin, and now, standing outside the door to Room 3-A, he was met with a scene that made him pause.

You were surrounded.

Not just by one or two people, but by half the classroom. Some perched on desks, others standing, leaning in with animated grins as they listened intently to whatever you were saying.

Laughter echoed through the space, loud and infectious. It wasn’t just that you were well-liked, it was that you owned the room without even trying.

The crowd, the attention, the way people gravitated toward you—it wasn’t new. And yet, as his eyes settled on you, a thought crept into his mind.

Did you even notice him standing there?

But then, as if you could sense him, your gaze snapped toward the doorway.

And suddenly, the noise faded into the background.

Despite being completely engrossed in conversation, despite the people practically surrounding you, your focus changed entirely. Your lips, still curled mid-laugh, softened into something more curious.

Jake hadn’t even taken a full step inside before you were already pushing yourself up from your seat, murmuring brief apologies to your friends as you effortlessly slipped through the crowd.

You reached him within seconds, tilting your head with a knowing smile. “Didn’t see you in the library.”

Jake’s lips twitched. “Yeah, well. That’s ‘cause you weren’t there.”

A teasing glint flashed in your eyes. “So you were looking for me.”

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “Something like that.”

Behind you, a whistle cut through the air. “Damn,” one of your classmates muttered. “Didn’t think Sim was into you.”

Jake didn’t acknowledge the comment, but he didn’t need to. You rolled your eyes before half-turning to shoot them an unimpressed look. “Oh, shut up.”

When you turned back, Jake was still watching you.

His gaze flickered over your face, assessing, before he finally tilted his head slightly. “You free?”

You blinked. “For?”

“Lunch.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“You’re inviting me to lunch?” you asked, amusement evident in your tone.

Jake smirked, rocking back on his heels. “I know. Big honor.”

You scoffed, playfully smacking his arm. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Maybe.” He nodded toward the door. “C’mon.”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head slightly before casting a glance over your shoulder—because, of course, your classmates were still very much watching. Some wore wide grins, others exchanged glances, and a few were whispering among themselves.

“Guess I’ll be back later,” you announced, sending them a wink before turning back to Jake.

And just like that, he was leading you out the door, the sound of hushed murmurs and not-so-subtle giggles trailing behind you.

The cafeteria was alive with the hum of conversation, the clatter of trays, and the occasional burst of laughter from groups of students huddled around their tables. The sheer size of the place should have made it feel open, but with the lunchtime rush in full swing, it felt like everyone was packed in shoulder to shoulder.

Jake barely hesitated before placing his hand on the small of your back again, guiding you through the crowd with effortless ease. It was instinctual, like he had to make sure you weren’t swallowed up in the mass of students.

The heat of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of your uniform, grounding and steady, but most of all, familiar.

You didn’t move away.

You didn’t want to.

If anything, your body naturally gravitated closer to him, and that realization alone sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Jake, of course, was completely unbothered. He wasn’t even looking at you, his gaze flickered across the cafeteria, scanning the area, before muttering, “You’d think with a cafeteria this big, it wouldn’t feel so cramped.”

His voice was casual, like he wasn’t currently touching you like it was second nature.

You swallowed, trying to will away the warmth creeping up your neck. “What, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little crowd, Sim?”

Jake scoffed, glancing at you with a smirk. “Scared? No. Annoyed? Absolutely.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Such a prince, huh? What’s next? Gonna demand a private table?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You gave him a look, lips twitching. “Wow. I thought you were the chill one in your group.”

Jake placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I am chill.”

You raised a brow. “You’re literally guiding me through a cafeteria like we’re dodging landmines.”

He shot you a lazy grin. “That’s not me being not chill. That’s me making sure you don’t trip over some random first year’s backpack.”

You snorted. “Sure, Sim. Whatever you say.”

The line moved forward, and Jake’s hand, still warm and very much there, pressed just slightly, nudging you along with him.

The air between you two was light, playful, but underlined with something else, something neither of you was fully acknowledging yet.

Jake didn’t remove his hand, and you… well, you let him.

The line continued moving, and when you finally reached the food counter, he casually leaned in a little closer. “What are you getting?” The way his voice dipped slightly, like he was asking something personal, made your stomach flip.

You blinked, shaking yourself out of it. “Uh. Probably just whatever they have today.”

Jake raised a brow, amused. “That’s not very specific.”

You shrugged. “I’m not picky.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jake only smirked, looking far too smug for your liking. “Nothing, nothing.”

“No, say it.” You crossed your arms, facing him fully now.

He exhaled a laugh, tilting his head slightly. “I just feel like you have your little food preferences. Probably avoid certain textures. Maybe you don’t like overly salty stuff?”

You blinked. “…Okay, but how do you know that?”

Jake’s smirk widened. “So I am right?”

You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. If anything, the fact that he’d picked up on something so small about you after barely a day of knowing you was a little too endearing.

Jake, on the other hand, looked very pleased with himself.

The two of you finally reached the counter, and just as you were about to grab a tray, Jake casually plucked one up first—then handed it to you.

His fingers barely brushed against yours, but it was enough to send a jolt of awareness through your entire arm.

Your breath hitched.

Jake, however, was unfazed. “See? Not picky, but definitely predictable.”

You scoffed, snatching the tray from his hands. “I hate you.”

Jake just grinned. “Nah, you don’t.”

And damn it, he was right.

The two of you moved through the rest of the line with that same easy back-and-forth, Jake making little comments about your food choices while you shot back with equally teasing remarks. By the time you had your trays and turned toward the seating area, you realized something—

Most of the tables were already packed.

Clusters of students filled every available space, some standing and chatting with friends, others laughing loudly, their voices echoing through the massive cafeteria.

Jake scanned the room briefly, his sharp eyes flicking over the crowd before they landed on a relatively empty table tucked into a corner near one of the large windows. He didn’t hesitate—just placed his free hand on the small of your back again and guided you toward it without a word.

Your breath caught for a split second, but you didn’t pull away.

It was so effortless, the way he touched you—like he’d done it a million times before, like it was just natural for him to steer you through a crowded space. The warmth of his palm against your lower back was firm but not forceful, steadying yet entirely casual.

And the worst part?

You liked it.

Maybe a little too much.

You felt your face heating up again, but before you could dwell on it, Jake spoke.

“Looks like the guys disappeared on me,” he mused as you both reached the table, setting his tray down before pulling out a chair for you.

The gesture was so smooth, so instinctive, that it took you a second to react.

You blinked at him. “…Are you always this much of a gentleman?”

Jake let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned slightly over the chair. “Only for people who don’t make me carry both our trays.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you sat down. “I could’ve carried my own, you know.”

Jake simply shrugged, taking his seat across from you. “Sure. But where’s the fun in that?”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head before picking up your utensils. “Anyway, maybe your friends just assumed you’d be too busy drowning in council work to eat. You are kind of a workaholic.”

Jake raised an eyebrow as he unwrapped his utensils. “Oh? And you know this how?”

You gave him a pointed look. “You just told me earlier that you literally ditched them earlier by saying you had to ‘finish up papers.’”

Jake exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Technically, I didn’t lie. I do have papers to go through later.”

You snorted. “Right. And you just so happened to show up at my classroom instead.”

Jake’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he took a casual bite of his food. “Just a coincidence.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm. Sure.”

He grinned. “What, can’t a guy take a break and conveniently end up where you are?”

Your fork paused midair.

The teasing lilt in his voice was undeniable, but there was something else there, something almost too deliberate in the way he said it. Like he wanted you to catch it. Like he was testing the waters.

And the worst part? It was working.

You quickly stuffed a bite of food into your mouth to distract from the way your stomach flipped at his words.

Jake just chuckled, clearly entertained by your reaction.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the chatter of the cafeteria buzzing around you. The corner you’d picked was quieter, a little more secluded, with sunlight streaming through the large windows beside you. It was… oddly peaceful.

Then, out of nowhere, Jake spoke again.

“I meant what I said, by the way.”

You glanced up, chewing slowly. “…About what?”

His eyes held yours. “That I don’t mind this.”

You swallowed. “This?”

Jake rested his elbow on the table, propping his chin up with his hand. “Eating with you.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

It was such a simple statement, but the way he said it, the way he looked at you when he did—yeah, you were in trouble.

You quickly looked down at your plate, pretending to focus on your food.

Instead of commenting, he just smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly before picking up his fork again.

But the knowing glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

And damn it, you had a feeling he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

The afternoon sun stretched golden across the field, casting a warm glow over the wide expanse of green. A light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the crisp scent of grass and the faintest traces of sweat as Jake and Sunghoon tossed the football back and forth.

It was their free period, a rare chance to unwind and let their inner Alphas stretch a little without the weight of expectations pressing down on them.

Jake rolled his shoulders, catching the ball with ease before spinning it in his hands. “Think you can handle a real pass this time?”

Sunghoon scoffed, adjusting his stance. “Think you can throw one?”

Jake smirked, cocking his arm back and sending the ball soaring through the air—

But the second it left his hands, so did every ounce of his focus.

Your scent.

It drifted through the open halls beside the field, laced with something warm that settled into his chest like second nature. Jake’s head turned on instinct, drawn toward the source before he could even process why.

And there you were.

Walking side by side with Jungwon’s mate, your laughter trailing through the breeze.

Jake barely registered the thud of the football landing in Sunghoon’s grip. His attention was fixed entirely on you, the way you were so effortlessly blending into his world without even trying.

He felt something shift inside him, soft, warm, and dangerously easy to get used to.

Because it wasn’t just that it was you, though that alone was enough to mess with his pulse. It was the fact that you were comfortable, that you were talking and laughing with Jungwon’s mate, someone who had already been claimed, someone who was already part of the pack in a way that felt permanent.

And for some reason, seeing you like this, seeing you so naturally fall into step with people who had already been solidified in his life, it made something deep inside him settle.

Like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Like you belonged here.

Sunghoon’s voice barely cut through his daze. “Finally, a decent throw.”

Jake blinked, shaking himself out of it, but the warmth in his chest didn’t fade.

His hand twitched at his side, itching to reach for something, to act on something—but he didn’t even know what. His Alpha stirred, entirely content just from the sight of you.

He swallowed thickly. Then, suddenly, he was moving.

“I gotta—” Jake’s voice came out rushed, unsteady, as he took a step back. “Bathroom.”

Sunghoon didn’t even glance at him, too busy tossing the ball in the air. “Sure, whatever.”

Jake was already halfway across the field, already walking toward you.

The moment Jake started walking, he knew there was no stopping himself.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, his body just moved, drawn toward you like an invisible force had wrapped itself around his chest and tugged.

You hadn’t even noticed him yet, too caught up in whatever conversation you were having. Your expression was relaxed, your smile easy. The sight made something in Jake unravel, it was stupid, really, how soft he felt over something so simple.

But then, as if you could feel him coming, you glanced up.

Your eyes met his, and Jake swore he felt his heart stumble. Recognition flashed across your face, quickly followed by a small, surprised smile. “Jake?”

Jungwon’s mate turned as well, blinking in confusion. “Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”

Jake barely acknowledged her, his attention locked solely on you. “Free period,” he said, voice smooth but just a little quieter than usual. “I was training with Sunghoon.”

Your gaze flickered past him toward the field, where Sunghoon was still casually tossing the football in the air, completely unbothered.

“And now?” you asked, tilting your head.

Jake huffed a small breath, as if he hadn’t just abandoned practice the second he caught your scent. “Now I’m here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For?”

Jake hesitated for half a second, then shrugged, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. “For you.”

Your breath hitched just slightly, but Jake caught it. And so did his inner Alpha, the presence inside him practically preening at the reaction.

Jungwon’s mate, completely noticing the tension settling between you two, let out a knowing hum. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.” She shot you a teasing look before waving. “See you later!”

You barely managed a nod before they slipped away, leaving you and Jake standing there, just looking at each other.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, slowly, Jake took another step closer, close enough that your scent wrapped around him fully. Close enough that he could see the faint pink dusting your cheeks, the way your fingers twitched slightly at your sides.

“Where are you headed?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual. Like he wasn’t completely invading your plans right now.

You tried to answer. Really, you did. But your brain was malfunctioning.

Because—goddamn.

Jake wasn’t in his usual navy blazer, and the absence of it shouldn’t have been this distracting, but it was. His white button-up was slightly rumpled, the top few buttons left undone, exposing just a hint of skin. His tie was loosened around his neck, his sleeves lazily rolled up to his elbows, and worst of all—his scent was stronger than ever.

The crisp bite of pine mixed with the warmth of oranges, fresh and intoxicating, like stepping into the woods after a summer rain. It wrapped around you, pulled you in, made your head feel lighter..

You swallowed, forcing your eyes forward before you got caught staring. “Uh—” Get it together, damn it. “Library.”

Jake hummed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked beside you. “Studying?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, still trying to focus on walking and not the way his arm brushed yours every now and then.

Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. “You okay?”

No. Absolutely not.

But you weren’t about to admit that.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jake tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. “No reason. You just seem… distracted.”

You almost scowled. He knew. Of course he knew. His Alpha was probably reveling in it, preening at the fact that his scent was affecting you this much.

“Must be the heat,” you lied, pressing your lips together.

Jake exhaled a quiet laugh, low and knowing. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice dipping just enough to make your pulse jump.

The Alpha barely gave you a second to react before he was reaching for the books in your arms, smoothly plucking them from your grasp like they weren’t heavy at all.

“Jake—” You blinked, startled.

“You look like you’re about to drop these,” he said simply, adjusting the books against his hip with one arm. The other hand went to your shoulder, sliding the strap of your very, very girly bag off like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your mouth opened, then closed. “Jake, that’s—”

He swung the bag onto his shoulder without even flinching.

It was pastel. It had bows. A tiny stuffed bear keychain dangled from the zipper, and the fabric smelled very obviously like you.

Jake didn’t even blink.

You, on the other hand, were short-circuiting. “What,” you finally choked out.

Jake peered down at you, unfazed. “What?”

You pointed, staring at the bag hanging on his shoulder. “That.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What about it?”

“Jake, you’re holding my bag.”

Another shrug. “And?”

You stared at him. “It has bows.”

Jake smirked. “Cute.”

Your brain stopped functioning. “It’s pink.”

“Your point?”

You inhaled sharply, your hands flying up in exasperation. “You don’t care?”

Jake raised a brow. “Why would I?”

You huffed, actually huffed as you let your arms fall to your sides. “Because—because you’re literally walking around like that, unbothered, like you don’t have my pink, bow-covered, stuffed-animal-having bag slung over your shoulder—”

Jake leaned down a little, smirking. “Would it bother you if I cared?”

You gaped at him, caught completely off guard.

You hated how easily he did that, how easily he could flip the entire conversation on its head and make you feel ridiculous for even bringing it up.

“No,” you muttered, pressing your lips together. “It wouldn’t.”

Jake chuckled. “Then it’s not a problem, is it?”

And just like that, he straightened up, walking like he wasn’t carrying an entire armful of your things, including your very feminine, very obvious bag.

You? You were still recovering.

And somehow, you just knew, from the way Jake’s scent curled around you in smug amusement, from the way his lips kept twitching at your stunned silence—yeah, he was enjoying every second of this.

Jake didn’t even spare a glance back toward the field. Whatever Sunghoon was thinking, probably something along the lines of: where the hell did he go?

He should have gone back. He should have at least tossed Sunghoon a quick text to say he got caught up. But the moment he saw you, saw the way you were laughing with Jungwon’s mate, saw the way the sunlight hit your face just right, any thought of returning to training vanished.

Sunghoon would figure it out. Eventually.

The next day, the moment the final bell rang, the hallway buzzed with noise, students shuffling to their lockers, conversations overlapping, and plans forming for the rest of the afternoon.

Jake stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders as he walked alongside Heeseung. “Man, I need something sweet,” Heeseung muttered, eyes glued to his phone. “Let’s stop by the café real quick before we head back.”

Jake hummed in agreement, barely listening. His hands were shoved in his pockets, steps lazy and unhurried, until he saw you.

You stood by your locker, fingers moving as you fixed your books and reorganized your things. Strands of hair fell over your face as you reached up to adjust the top shelf, completely unaware of the way Jake’s attention had locked onto you like a magnet.

Like his feet had a mind of their own, walking past you wasn’t an option. He lifted a hand, waving Heeseung off without a word.

Heeseung, still distracted by whatever was on his phone, just nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Jake took that as his cue and started walking.

He changed course, slipping away so smoothly it was like he had never been walking beside Heeseung in the first place. Within seconds, he was ten feet away from where they had been.

Heeseung didn’t even notice.

Jake stopped right beside you, leaning casually against the lockers. “Need some help?”

You glanced up, slightly startled. “Jake? What happened to—weren’t you with Heeseung?”

Jake smirked. “Was I?”

You blinked. “…Yes?”

Jake just shrugged, reaching out and taking the book you were about to shove into your bag. Without hesitation, he slung your very girly, very bow-covered bag over his shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of it against his unbuttoned navy blazer, his loosened navy tie, and the lazy confidence in his stance, was almost comical.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Jake.”

“Hm?”

“You ditched him.”

His grin was shameless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jake—”

“Come on,” he cut in smoothly, already turning to walk with you. “Where are you headed?”

You huffed, shutting your locker. “The student council room.”

Jake raised a brow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. “Huh. Didn’t know you were suddenly on council duty.”

You shot him a look. “I’m not. Our class treasurer forgot to submit a report on the budget, so I’m doing it.”

His expression changed, something playful settling in his gaze. “And you didn’t ask me for help?”

You rolled your eyes, hugging the folder to your chest. “Jake, you’re the secretary, not the treasurer. Big difference.”

“Still part of it,” he argued, effortlessly matching your pace as you navigated through the crowded hall. “I could’ve at least made sure you weren’t running around like this.”

You scoffed, but before you could respond, you felt the warmth of his hand press lightly against the small of your back. It was a barely-there touch, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath hitched.

Jake, of course, didn’t seem fazed at all. If anything, he was acting like this was normal. Like the heat of his palm wasn’t sending a strange sort of static along your spine.

“What?” he mused, tilting his head slightly when he noticed you stiffen. “Crowded hall. Don’t want you getting lost.”

You swallowed hard, pressing your lips together as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Meanwhile, a few feet behind, Heeseung who had been completely occupied with his phone, glanced up, only to find that Jake had completely disappeared.

His brows furrowed as he scanned the hallway, but all he could see was a familiar fluff of brown hair moving through the crowd.

Heeseung sighed through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

The student council room was unusually silent.

No soft hum of pages flipping, no quiet muttering as Jake worked through his usual mountain of files, no fresh scent of coffee filling the air like it always did in the morning.

Just… quietness.

Jay walked in first, balancing his drink in one hand, fingers lazily tapping against his phone with the other. "He’s already here, right?" He barely glanced up, expecting the usual scene: Jake at his desk, half-buried in council paperwork, looking vaguely annoyed that they weren’t being as productive as him.

Ni-ki didn’t even bother looking around. "Duh. Jake’s always here first."

Except, Jake wasn’t there.

Jay froze mid-step, blinking at the empty desk. “Wait.” He frowned. “Where the hell is he?”

Ni-ki finally looked up from his phone, expecting Jay to be overreacting, only for his eyes to land on something even weirder, a stack of neatly arranged documents, sitting untouched on Jake’s desk.

It was done.

All of it. Every single piece of work Jake should've been doing this morning had already been signed, stapled, and sorted.

Jay exhaled through his nose, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Okay. So, either he pulled an all-nighter and got his work done ahead of time…” He trailed off before exchanging a look with Ni-ki.

“…Or he figured out how to clone himself,” Ni-ki deadpanned, poking the paperwork like it might vanish into thin air. “Either way, this is freaky.”

Jay barely acknowledged the joke, still staring at the empty seat. “No, but seriously. Where is he?”

Meanwhile, a few blocks away; Jake didn’t even bother looking up as the café door chimed, signaling more students coming in. He barely acknowledged the low murmurs around them, the not-so-subtle glances.

His focus was elsewhere. More specifically, on you.

You were curled slightly forward, fiddling with your drink, your hand resting on his blazer, which was draped across your lap.

He had thrown the blazer over you without a second thought—didn’t even say anything, just casually shrugged it off and placed it there.

Not that you noticed. You were too busy fuming about your morning.

“I mean, seriously,” you huffed, stirring your drink aggressively. “What kind of professor makes a deadline 7 AM sharp? That should be illegal. There should be laws.”

Jake hummed, lazily adjusting the girly pink bag that was currently on his lap. “So you did it last-minute.”

You shot the pureblooded Alpha a look. “No, because if I finished it early, I wouldn’t be this pissed off about it.”

Jake smirked. “Right. So you did do it last-minute.”

You groaned, pressing your forehead against the table dramatically. “Okay, fine, maybe I did finish it at, like, 3 AM, but that’s beside the point.”

Jake took a slow sip of his drink, watching you. “No, I think that’s exactly the point.” His voice was smoother now, teasing. “You could’ve just asked for my help, you know.”

Your head snapped up. “Oh, please. Like I’d let Mr. Secretary do my work for me.”

Jake huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, but you let me carry your bag.”

You didn’t even blink. “And?”

Jake blinked back.

Because, yeah, he’d been expecting at least some kind of reaction. A scoff, an eye-roll, maybe even a muttered whatever, Sim. But instead, you looked at him like this was just normal. Like him carrying your pink, ribbon-covered, unmistakably girly bag was something he’d done a hundred times before.

Which, now that he thought about it, he kinda had.

Your omega practically preened at the thought.

It felt natural. Comforting.

Like it belonged there, like he belonged there.

And if Jake noticed the way your lips pressed together like you were fighting back a smile? No, he didn’t. Not at all.

Mornings in the council room were always the same. Papers shuffled, chairs scraped against the floor, low murmurs filled the air as the student council members moved through their routine and Jake’s coffee—always lingered in the air, a signal that their secretary had already buried himself in work before anyone else arrived.

Except today, the room smelled normal.

No coffee, no Jake.

Jungwon, seated at his own desk near the window, skimmed through a proposal, his brows furrowed in concentration. Sunoo, half-awake and nursing his iced americano like his life depended on it, peeked up at the clock.

Ni-ki, on the other hand, had been watching the entrance for the past five minutes.

“Where’s golden boy?” he finally muttered, leaning back in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers.

Jay, sitting at his own table across from Jungwon, barely spared him a glance. “No clue. Probably overslept.”

Heeseung, who had his feet propped up on his desk, scoffed. “Jake? Oversleep? Yeah, right.”

Sunghoon, who had been absentmindedly flipping through his phone, glanced up, unimpressed. “Maybe he finally decided to quit and live a stress-free life. About time.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the door swung open.

Jake strolled in, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual crisp blazer nowhere to be found. The loosened navy tie around his neck hung effortlessly, and his hair was slightly tousled like he’d been outside for too long.

The Alpha wasn't rushed, not groggy, just calm.

And that was already weird: Jake never looked this relaxed in the morning.

Jay barely lifted his head, but his eyes narrowed.

Heeseung blinked, sitting up slightly. Jungwon paused mid-page turn. Sunoo finally looked up from his drink.

Jake, however, didn’t spare them a single glance.

He just walked straight to his desk, set his bag down, and smiled.

Not his usual morning scowl, not the slightly annoyed expression they were used to, and that alone was enough to make the entire room go quiet.

And then—

“You reek of an omega.” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the silence, lazy but pointed.

Jake didn’t even look up, he didn’t tense, he didn’t acknowledge it. He just shrugged. “New perfume.”

Jay immediately put his pen down.

Sunoo, blinking, looked at Jungwon, then at Jake again. Ni-ki, having just taken a sip of his drink, nearly choked.

“Perfume?” Jungwon repeated, skeptical.

“Yeah,” Jake hummed, still not looking at them. “Wanted to try something different.”

And honestly, it would’ve been believable.

Jake wore cologne. That much was true. But not this. Not this soft. It wasn’t sharp like his usual clean, expensive scent.

It was warmer. Like honey and seawater, subtle but distinct, the kind of scent that only clung to someone when they’d been too close to an omega for too long.

And in a room filled with pureblooded alphas, it wasn’t something that went unnoticed.

But instead of calling him out, Sunghoon just exhaled through his nose, letting it slide. If some omega had thrown themselves at Jake this morning, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

“Damn,” Ni-ki muttered, shaking his head in amusement. “Didn’t know you had a confession today.”

Jake, finally glancing up, raised a brow. “Huh?”

Sunoo smirked. “The omega. They were all over you, weren’t they?”

Jake just rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

But Jay just stared. Because while the others were making their own assumptions, he noticed things.

Like the way Jake’s shoulders were too loose, the way his usually sharp morning glare had been replaced by something almost smug. The way his fingers lingered just a second longer when he reached for his pen.

Jake was weirdly comfortable, and Jay had a feeling it wasn’t because of some random omega.

It was someone specific. It wouldn't take a genius to acknowledge the fact that his scent was all over a specific omega just as much as theirs was all over him.

That same day, the council room was missing something.

Or rather—someone.

Jungwon tapped a pen against his desk, lips pressing into a thin line as his gaze swept across the room. The usual members were in their usual places, some sorting through reports, others murmuring among themselves. But one chair, in particular, remained empty.

Jake’s.

Jungwon turned to the juniors under the secretary committee, his tone expectant. “Did he say anything about missing the meeting?”

The second-years exchanged nervous glances before one of them hesitantly spoke up. “No, President. He didn’t mention anything.”

That made Jungwon pause.

Jake was many things, laid-back, exasperatingly smug, and a flight risk when it came to avoiding unnecessary small talk. But he was also reliable. He never skipped a meeting without at least a heads-up.

Sunoo, lounging lazily in his chair, finally looked up from his phone. “Are we sure he’s not dead?”

Heeseung, ignoring him, strode over to Jake’s desk. His eyes immediately landed on the thick folder placed neatly at the center, its edges aligned with military precision.

He opened it.

Inside were pages upon pages of documents, all labeled, revised, and signed. Every committee task Jake was responsible for? Already handled.

Heeseung huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Figures.”

Sunoo leaned over, peeking at the contents. “So he did everything beforehand, left proof, and then just—what? Vanished?”

Silence.

Then he clapped his hands together. “Well, if everything’s here, we might as well start.”

No one objected, except Jay.

Jay, who hadn’t even looked at the documents because he didn’t need to.

Something about this was off.

It was late.

The university parking lot was nearly empty, save for a few scattered cars and the occasional security guard making his rounds. The group were all making their way toward their rides, conversations overlapping in low murmurs.

The day had been long, the last meeting dragging on longer than expected, and now they were finally free.

"Ugh, I swear, if one more junior asks me to proofread their paperwork—" Sunoo grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Maybe if you didn’t baby them so much, they wouldn’t keep asking," Sunghoon teased, smirking.

Sunoo shot him a glare. "Maybe if you actually showed up to the meetings on time, you’d—"

Jay wasn’t listening.

His attention had been caught by something else.

A few steps ahead of the group, his pace slowed, then stopped entirely as his gaze landed on one of the benches just near the lot.

At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at.

Jake was there. That in itself wasn’t strange. But Jake wasn’t alone, you were there, too.

And that was what made Jay’s breath catch in his throat; Jake wasn’t just sitting with you.

He was practically curled into you, head nestled snugly against the curve of your neck, his face pressed to your scent gland like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arm draped lazily over the back of the bench, one hand resting near your thigh; casual, comfortable, too familiar.

And you? You were just reading.

Flipping through the pages of your book like this was nothing new. Like Jake burying himself against your scent, molding himself into you, wasn’t something worth reacting to.

Jay’s feet refused to move.

It took Heeseung nearly walking into him for the others to notice his sudden stillness.

“Dude, why’d you stop—” Heeseung started, but then his voice faltered when he followed Jay’s gaze.

One by one, the rest of the group turned.

And one by one, their expressions shifted.

“Oh.” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, but filled with realization.

“No way.” Ni-ki blinked.

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. “Well. That explains a lot.”

Sunoo pressed his lips together, visibly holding back a laugh as he nudged his mate. “I mean, are we even surprised?”

They weren’t.

Not really.

But seeing it—seeing Jake so effortlessly tangled up with you, as if he’d been doing this for years, was something else entirely.

And Jake? Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that they were watching.

If anything, he only seemed to relax further, exhaling deeply against your skin before shifting slightly, adjusting his position so he could press even closer. His nose brushed against your neck, fingers twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to grip your waist.

The sight of it made something click.

Jay had noticed it before, the way Jake had been disappearing more often, the way he had been skipping out on long hours at the council office, the way he had been coming back with a scent that was unmistakably omega, unmistakably settled on his skin.

But now, standing here, watching Jake press into you, breathe you in, claim you without even realizing he was doing it—it made too much sense.

Jay exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Well. That’s new.”

Finally, Jake moved.

Not because he noticed them, no, he was still completely wrapped up in you. It was because you moved.

Without even looking up from your book, you lifted a hand and ran your fingers gently through Jake’s hair, the motion absentminded and natural, like this was routine.

Jake hummed at the touch, actually hummed, his arm tightening slightly around the back of the bench.

The entire group watched in silent disbelief.

Sunghoon blinked. "I feel like we shouldn't be seeing this."

Jungwon huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, but here we are."

Ni-ki raised a brow. "So, are we just gonna stand here and stare, or—?"

Jake had been careful.

Or at least, he thought he had.

But apparently, not careful enough.

Because the second he smelled it—them, it was already too late.

Jake’s body tensed, his nose twitched, and his fingers flexed against the back of the bench. The comfortable warmth of your scent was suddenly invaded, drowned out by something else.

Jake inhaled once again, and immediately regretted it.

⤷ read part 2 here !

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[bueckers]

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

a/n | heavily inspired by that clip of caitlin & gabbie LOL. kind of a blurb

summary: paige gets caught looking at you a certain way on camera while you’re practically fuming during a game.

warning(s): just sexual tension & out of pocket comments, suggestive

pairing: paige bueckers x teammate!reader

The game against NC State was remarkably close, an unexpected challenge for only the second game of the season. As the third quarter dwindled to its final minutes, a sense of frustration began to set in. You found yourself doing everything in your power to gain composure.

The same girl had been targeting you all night, her aggressive play becoming increasingly blatant as the game progressed. Your patience was wearing thin, and when she charged at you once again, a surge of anger propelled you forward, ready to confront her. However, before you could react, Paige, Aubrey, and Ines intervened, stepping in to hold you back before you did something you’d regret.

Geno had benched you, which only added more fuel to the fire. When the other team called a timeout, the rest of the team was sent to the benches, but Paige was quick to run over to you. As soon as the whistle blew, you got out of my seat and jogged over to the referee, determined to explain that he had made the wrong call. He had been the entire game. Your frustration, however, got the better of you, and your words came out heated. The referee was clearly unimpressed with your complaints and wasn’t budging.

Paige stepped in front of you, concluding your one-sided heated conversation with the referee. She grabbed your arm with one hand and placed the other on your lower back to guide you away. “C’mere,” she mumbled, steering you back to the bench. You sat down, a little calmer than before but still huffing and puffing that you hadn’t gotten to say everything you wanted to.

Paige sat next to you, her entire body turned in your direction as she nearly fell off the seat. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and she knew exactly what to do to get you to calm down. “Talk to me,” she threw out huskily, knowing you had to actually get what you had to say out before resting. You were already on it.

“That girl has been all over me all night,” you began, words tumbling out in a rush. “Do you know how many fouls I’ve been cheated out of? It’s like she’s got it out for me. And the refs are fucking blind to it—this is bullshit..”

As you rambled on, Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. She was perplexed at how you could look so good even while angry. Her eyes darted between yours and your lips the entire time, her lips slightly parted. Though you were loud, she barely heard a word, her ears blocking out all of the trash talk you let flow. Paige was captivated, caught between her desire to comfort you with reassuring words and letting you take her in the locker room after the game, which seemed to intensify with every fiery word you spoke.

Her head rested in one of her hands, and just as you finished speaking you turned to her, catching her lingering gaze on your lips. This out of all things made you crack a smile. “Paige,” you snapped her out of her short daze, her eyes averting back to yours.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, sitting up straighter now as she reached her hands behind her head to adjust her ponytail.

Your eyes followed her without your head moving for a moment, your smile only growing bigger as you realized why she was staring at you that way. “What?” she questioned, her smile being heard through it, faking her oblivion as she looked at you.

“You’re so fucking horny, bro.” you shook your head, smiling bright at her as she threw her head back, laughing, but she didn’t disagree. What you didn’t know, was that your interaction was caught on camera being televised—and of course screen recorded.

user1. lip readers get on this 😭

user2. Paige is down bad CONFIRMED

user3. The way she’s looking at her omg I physically can’t

user4. PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS!?!?

user5. are they dating?

user6. No

user7. I hope so

user8. nooo way this is real LMFAOOO

user9. her eyes shifting between her lips and eyes ohhh she’s so down bad

user10. FRIENDS DON’T LOOK AT FRIENDS THAT WAY!?!?

user11. wouldn’t be surprised if they’re fucking

user12. these comments are crazy as hell 😭