#lily's café

[nenehyuuchiha]

CASTIEL?!

[spookythesillyfella]

the worst idea came to me while i waz making an actual important drawing.

[vaunteir]

i could azujamify these songs watch

[phototagebuch]

31.10.2024: Lilie

[gwenivere]

to the person who just dropped the first nine episode of guinevere jones in french on youtube: le jour où je découvre qui tu es, je vais t'épouser.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 (PART 1)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being the forgotten one your whole life, you thought that they wouldn't forget you.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst, Getting stood up

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The small café was almost unbearably stuffy, the kind of warmth that clung to your skin like a bad memory. You sat at the tiny table, your fingers wrapped around the fifth, long-cold cup of coffee. Five empty cups already littered the space around you, their contents drained, and yet the boys were nowhere to be seen. The delicate pink and gold décor of Madam Puddifoot's—once sweet and charming—now felt suffocating.

You glanced up at the clock again.

They were an hour late.

Your heart sank lower into your stomach. An hour. The tiny voice in your head whispered cruel thoughts, thoughts you tried so hard to push away but they gnawed at you nonetheless. Did they stand me up?

You and the boys had only been dating for a few months—James, Sirius, Remus, Peter. It was unconventional, but you all cared about each other, or so you thought. The beginning had been a whirlwind of excitement and passion, stolen kisses in the corridors, late-night sneaking into the Gryffindor common room. But lately… lately, something had shifted.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were slipping through the cracks, that the bond they shared with each other was unbreakable and you were just some added accessory, an outsider trying to fit into a world that already had no space left for you.

A pang of doubt stung your chest. Maybe you had been stupid to believe that this could work. That they wanted you, truly wanted you. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared down at the empty cups. Five cups. Five glasses, just like five people. You had been here. But where were they?

Each tick of the clock seemed to mock you. You had tried to convince yourself, at first, that they were just running late, that something had come up. They were the Marauders after all, always busy with some adventure or prank. But now? Now, you weren't so sure. The knot in your chest tightened, the air in the café becoming harder to breathe in. You were drowning in your thoughts, the same ones spiraling over and over.

Maybe I’m not important enough for them. Maybe they’ve realized they don’t need me. Just each other.

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You quickly wiped it away, but the damage was done. Your heart was cracking with each passing second, each tick of the clock hammering the reality into you: they weren’t coming. They had forgotten you. Or worse, maybe they never even planned on showing up.

The idea that they had stood you up made your blood boil, but underneath the anger was the cold sting of hurt. They were supposed to be yours. How could they do this? How could they leave you waiting here, like some fool, while they—?

You couldn’t stay here any longer. The sight of the café and the sound of the clinking china cups was making you nauseous. You grabbed your things, hands shaking, and bolted out of the door, the chilly evening air hitting your tear-streaked face. The wind stung, but not as much as the empty feeling gnawing at your chest.

Your feet carried you without thinking. You needed to get away, to find solace, to bury yourself in someone who cared. And there was only one place to go.

Lily and Mary’s dorm.

When you burst into the room, Lily and Mary were tangled up together on the bed, kissing softly, not noticing your entrance at first. The door creaked behind you, and suddenly, they pulled apart, eyes wide and worried as they saw your tear-stained face.

“Oh my God, what happened?!” Lily was up in an instant, rushing over to you, her hands gripping your shoulders gently as she took in the sight of you, broken and shaking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, a sob escaped, one that ripped through you, and you crumpled into her arms. Mary had joined the two of you by now, her eyes filled with concern.

“Sweetheart, what is it? What happened?” Mary’s voice was gentle, but the panic was clear.

You choked back another sob, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I hate them,” you finally spat, the bitterness in your voice taking even you by surprise. “I hate them so much.”

Lily’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The boys? What did they do?”

“They didn’t show up,” you hissed, the words tumbling out like venom. “They were supposed to meet me at Madam Puddifoot's… an hour ago. And they didn’t come. Not even a bloody owl. Nothing.”

Lily’s face hardened, and Mary’s mouth opened in shock.

“They… they stood you up?” Mary asked, her voice soft, as if she couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, your throat tightening as the tears threatened to fall again. “I waited, and I waited, and they never came. I… I thought they cared, you know? But maybe I’m just—maybe I’m just not important enough for them.” The last part came out in a broken whisper.

Lily pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “No. No, don’t you dare think that. They’re idiots, all of them. Complete and utter prats.”

“But I’m always the last thought, Lily,” you sobbed, the hurt spilling out. “They’ve been so distant lately. Like… like I’m not even part of the group anymore. Like they’re fine with just each other and I’m… I’m just in the way.”

Mary knelt beside you, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You deserve better than this. So much better.”

“I thought they were different,” you said bitterly, “I didn’t expect this from them. Not from them. But… I guess I was wrong.”

The room was quiet for a moment, only the sound of your broken breaths filling the space. Lily and Mary exchanged a look, one that told you they were just as furious as they were heartbroken for you.

You had come to them with your broken heart, and now, you didn’t know what to do with the pieces. All you knew was that in this moment, you wanted nothing to do with the Marauders. You wanted to scream, cry, and hate them with everything you had.

And maybe—just maybe—you could learn how to forget them too.

[maskedbyghost]

Shadows of Obsession

TW: stalking, home invasion, emotional manipulation, obsessive behavior, Simon in his stalker era

The first bouquet of lilies appeared on her doorstep two months ago, crisp and white, with no note attached. At first, she thought it was a mistake. Maybe a neighbor’s anniversary or a delivery error. She even asked around, but no one claimed them.

The second bouquet arrived the following Friday, just as pristine and silent.

By the fifth, unease began to settle in.

Then came the notes.

The handwriting was precise, the words simple: “You looked beautiful today.” “The world doesn’t deserve your kindness.” “I see you.”

She told yourself it was harmless, a misguided admirer, nothing more. But deep down, she knew better. Each note felt like a pair of eyes on her back, a shadow stretching too close.

Simon was the last person she suspected.

She didn’t know him well—no one did. He was a phantom, his face always hidden beneath that mask. She’d worked with him a handful of times, enough to catch glimpses of a sharp mind and a colder demeanor. He was a man of few words, fewer smiles, and no visible vulnerabilities.

Yet somehow, he had decided she were his.

It started subtly: a fleeting glance that lingered too long, his voice softening when he spoke her name. Then the coincidences—running into him during her evening walks, finding him already at the café she frequented. Always nearby, always watching.

She tried to ignore it, brushing off the unease with excuses. But tonight, all those excuses evaporated.

She woke to silence, the kind that presses down on her chest and suffocates. Something was wrong. Her apartment, usually filled with the ambient hum of life, felt still.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, scanning the room. The shadows were where they should be, the clutter untouched. Yet the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

And then she heard it: a faint creak of a floorboard, too deliberate to be a trick of the wind.

Her pulse surged as she reached under her pillow, fingers brushing against the knife she’d started keeping there. She slipped out of bed, her movements careful, her breathing shallow.

The hallway stretched before her, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the blinds. She followed the sound, each step a battle against the growing dread coiling in your stomach.

When she reached the living room, she froze.

Simon stood there, his skull mask catching the faint light. He was utterly still, a predator who had been waiting for his prey to notice him.

“Simon,” she breathed, the name heavy with disbelief and fear.

He turned slowly, his movements measured. His hands hung at his sides, empty, but his presence was suffocating.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he said, his voice low, almost regretful.

Her grip tightened on the knife. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

He took a step toward her, his head tilting as if she’d asked a question he didn’t quite understand. “Keeping you safe.”

“By breaking in?!” Her voice shook, anger and fear warring within you.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his tone soft. “You don’t see how exposed you are. How vulnerable. The world isn’t kind to people like you.”

Her stomach churned. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? The flowers, the notes—they were from you.”

Simon didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze boring into her. “Everything I’ve done was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” you spat. “You’re the one I need protecting from!”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, something flickered behind the mask—hurt, maybe. “I’d never hurt you,” he said firmly.

“Then leave.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost pleading. “You don’t understand, love. I see what’s out there. I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t have someone looking out for them. You need me.”

“No, I don’t!” Her voice cracked, but the knife in her hand didn’t waver.

Simon’s gaze dropped to the blade, then back to her eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped closer. She pressed herself against the wall, the cold seeping into her skin.

“You won’t use that,” he said. “You don’t need to. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin. “You will.”

The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud. She didn’t know whether to scream, fight, or collapse under the realization that Simon wasn’t going anywhere.

part 2

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

what do we think babess??

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆! ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: trying to warm up to writing again so I can get out of this slump. Enjoy some smut of Ghibli pretty boy 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Howl Pendragon x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.6k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, magic (so dubcon), masturbation, squirting, overstimulation, whimpery Howl

The basket in the crook of your arm begins to weigh heavily as you wander around the market, browsing the stalls now that you’ve got all the ingredients to make meals for the next few days. You enjoy cooking for your little family in the castle and you know well enough that Howl is too prone to skipping meals unless you sit him down and put one in front of him. 

Sweet fragrances fill your nose as you stand before a stall selling flowers, your gaze roaming the vast array of colours and the prices attached to each arrangement.

“We have a buy one get twenty percent off for these arrangements.” The vendor, a woman just shy of turning middle-aged, pipes up as she gestures to the grandest and most expensive row of floral arrangements. You nod with a silent smile to show you’ve heard. You have no intention of spending that much coin today but you do have a little more left over than what you’d expected when you left home today and something colourful would make for a lovely addition to your living space, you think. There’s something inherently romantic and uplifting about flowers and you deeply enjoy making sure they have a presence in your life. 

With romance on the mind, you smile to yourself as your fingertips reach up to your collar where a golden necklace is clasped around your neck. It’s a chain of metallic flowers that doesn’t stray too far from your throat, each flower bearing a little pink gem in the middle with a white glassy bead between each flower upon the necklace’s chain. It’s a gift that Howl surprised you with this morning, giving no other reason for it than wanting to give you a little something. He’s overly dramatic at times and has more trouble than most with facing his fears but he does truly love you and you can tell he’s always trying to find ways to remind you of that without words. 

Your eyes land on an arrangement of pink tulips, white lilies and lilies of the valley. That’ll look lovely on the main table, you decide. 

“Just this one please.” You point to the particular arrangement that’s caught your eye and have your coin purse on hand from within your basket already. The vendor picks up the bouquet and begins wrapping the flowers to make them easier to carry without the arrangement being disrupted. You set the proper amount of money down on the table and your hand plays with your necklace in the meantime.

And as you accept the flowers, you feel a wave of heat bloom in your cheeks. 

“Thank you.” You smile politely at the exchange and set the flowers atop your basket, heading off to return home. But your breath feels shorter and skin feels warmer. Have you over-exerted yourself today? Surely not, you do shops like this in the day all the time. You had a decent breakfast and enough sleep… So why do your clothes feel so uncomfortable against your skin? Dehydrated, perhaps. 

You find a nearby café and pop inside to buy a snack and some water, hoping to improve your current state. But the other customers and their chatter, their indecisiveness and the way they stand too close to you from behind in the queue is all starting to get on your nerves. You buy your snack and drink and find a little seat in a corner to have them in peace. You find yourself eating quickly to try and amend whatever your body is telling you is wrong and find yourself not taking any time to really appreciate the taste of the sweet little pastry. Your water is similarly finished quickly and without thought. Your mood doesn’t improve and the chair is uncomfortable. You squirm in your seat the whole time, unable to find a comfortable position and regretting having come in here and spent any money at all as it’s done nothing to make you feel better. You want to be alone – no, – you want to be home. Home and in Howl’s arms as he takes your mind away from whatever’s ailing you, maybe even uses a bit of his magic to make you feel better. 

You stand up and pluck up your basket from the seat beside you. And then your eyes widen slightly as you feel a sudden wave of slickness in your panties. You cringe as you try to subtly shift your hips and thighs without anyone noticing, praying that whatever’s just leaked from you won’t seep out of your panties. It’s too early to be your period, you assess as you leave the café and make your way home. Discharge, maybe? It could just be wetness but you’re not aroused. Or are you? The thought makes heat bloom across your cheeks as you turn the corner and step into the street that’ll lead you home. You’re frustrated, keep squirming to push your thighs together and make friction, all you want is to be with Howl… but what could have brought this on? 

You find yourself shiver slightly as a cool breeze caresses your exposed chest, a pleasant feeling washing down your spine at feeling such relief on your flushed skin. Oh… you are horny. The realisation only fills your mind with lewd images of what you might coax your lover to do to sate such a feeling and the intensity of it only grows and grows. You continue to silently pray that you won’t leak through your panties but the material is sticky now and feels as though it’s rubbing against your sensitive slit with each awkward step. 

You bite your bottom lip and wince as your hardened nipples poke against the fabric of your bra and all you want is to feel Howl’s hands squeezing them, his warm mouth wrapped around them. You let out a little huff through your nose as you suppress a soft whine at just how incredible that idea seems right now. You finally arrive home and set the basket down on the table. 

“Hi, Calcifer. Are Howl or Markl in?” You ask as you pick up some firewood to feed him. 

“Welcome back. Markl left not that long ago to make some deliveries and Howl said he should be back soon.” Calcifer replies before gnawing on the chopped log you’ve given him. You’re disappointed at the news that Howl isn’t back yet but nod your head in acknowledgement. 

“Alright. You keep up the good work, you’re doing brilliantly as always.” You offer him a kind smile. A little praise goes a long way with Calcifer and you know Howl doesn’t do it often enough. Calcifer gives his thanks and begins mumbling to himself about how you appreciate him at least. 

Your eyes glance to your full basket that needs to be unpacked but you just frown at it and head upstairs to the bedroom that you share with Howl instead. You’re growing increasingly frustrated and you’re sure the flowers will do just fine without water for a little while longer. 

The moment the door closes behind you, you’re stripping off your clothing. It gets thrown to the floor, the end of the bed, wherever. Your panties have a little puddle of slick upon the seat and a sinewy string of arousal sticks between them and your pussy as you step out of them and lay yourself on the cool silk sheets of the bed. They feel like a balm to your heated skin and you let out a soft mewl at how your nipples stiffen in the air, feeling so sensitive and aching for attention. 

Your mind wanders to memories of long, passionate nights shared with Howl in this bed, how much of an attentive lover he is and how he loves to tease just as much as he himself likes to be teased. One hand slides down past your abdomen as you recall the amount of times he’s reverently lapped between your thighs like you were a fountain of youth and not just a woman. Your other hand pinches at your left nipple and a small moan is muffled behind your bitten lip. Why are you even so worked up? You don’t think you’re at a point in your cycle where your hormones would be affecting you like this. All you can think of is how relieving it is to have your fingers rub sticky circles onto your clit that can never amount to how magical Howl’s tongue can feel there. Your fingers dipping into your weeping hole pale in comparison to the sweet stretch of his cock. All you can think of is him, and what you want him to do to you as you moan softly without anxiety that you’ll be overheard as the door is enchanted to be soundproofed. You yourself feel enchanted, like you’re under some spell of-

Your fingers pause completely and your eyes open, the bubble of your fantasy having burst. 

That bastard. 

You were under a spell. A spell he put upon you this morning with a gentle declaration of love and a kiss to your cheek as he clasped your new gift around your neck this morning. You wipe the wetness from your fingers onto your thighs and sit upright, your body subconsciously spreading your legs wider as you do so. You reach back for the clasp of the necklace and end up tracing your hands around the entire chain of it but there’s no clasp to be found. It’s gone. You huff. What an asshole, casting a spell over you to make you horny while you go out and be a dutiful lover, making sure you all eat for the next few days and he has the audacity to not even be here when you return feeling like a cat in heat. 

Without him here to break the spell by removing the necklace from your throat, there’s little else you can do and your throbbing clit is practically weeping for the return of your fingers. Hoping that you can at least quell the heat in your core, if not satiate it, you lay back with a frustrated huff and resume rubbing at the sensitive little pearl. You’re so wet that you can hear the slick sounds as you touch yourself, your head tipped back against the plush pillow beneath your head. It feels good but it’s not good enough. Howl made this mess and now you firmly believe that he should be the one to clean it up; with his slender fingers, that talented mouth, his pretty co- 

“Well, isn’t this a most welcome sight to return home to?~” A familiar voice teasingly muses from the doorway. 

You’re startled for a moment as you instinctively try to cover yourself up before you take a moment to realise who it is that’s closing the door behind him. 

“You.” You hiss as he grins down at you, clearly proud of his handiwork. “This is your fault!” He cocks his head to the side, green jewels swinging at his ears as his lips curl upwards even more. 

“Oh, you were thinking about me? I’m flattered, sweetheart~” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You huff in reply as he sets a knee on the bed and his eyes drink in the sight of your flushed skin, everything on display for him as you lay beautifully in the middle of your shared bed like a present just waiting to be opened and played with. 

“Ah… You don’t like the magic I put into your gift?” He asks, his tone playful and you don’t know whether you want to smack or kiss that smug grin right off his pretty face. 

“No.” You reply firmly. His deft fingers glide up your thigh and then curl around it to tug it towards him. He lets out an awed sigh at the sight of your wet slit, your slickness dripping down to the sheets. 

“Oh but look~” He croons, “Your sweet pussy just loves it~” He bites his plush bottom lip as though resisting the urge to just dive right into you like a starved man. “So pretty…” He whispers as he gently gathers up some wetness from your entrance and pushes it up to smear over your sensitive clit. It sends a shot of liquid pleasure straight through your blood and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your throat.

“How about this…” He begins to propose as he moves his hand away from your pussy in favour of featherly dancing his fingers between your hips in a way that’s almost ticklish but brings you a teasing sort of pleasure, “You put on a pretty show for me-” He leans in to kiss down the valley of your breasts, warm and sensual, “-and I’ll remove the necklace, deal?” 

You whine quietly, wanting relief right here and right now after the day of desperate need you’ve faced so far. But you know that Howl is a trickster at heart: if you don’t play by his rules then you won’t be in for the prize. 

“Deal.” You concede. Howl makes himself comfortable at the end of the bed between your legs, a hand reaching down to adjust his pants as he takes in the sight of your aching pussy and stiff nipples. You lay back and spread your legs wide apart to make sure that none of his view is obstructed, even if it brings a rush of heat to your cheeks. 

You resume rubbing your throbbing clit, making sure to make quite a spectacle of using your fingers to spread your slit open for him to see just how wet you are from the enchantment he’s put upon you (and from being watched in such an intimate and vulnerable position like this). He’s watching you with enthralled attention as you play with yourself for his bright blue eyes to see. 

You’re oozing slick as you rub yourself in front of him, your pussy practically begging him with this little show to just come and take you already with how desperate and ready you are for him after suffering from the necklace’s enchantment all day until now. As you use one hand to rub sticky circles on your clit, the other comes up to cup your breast, teasing and pinching at your pert nipples for him. 

Alluring moans and whines spill past your lips as you try to tempt him into giving up this bet and fucking you right here and now, convincing him with both sight and sound. Your fingers make an audibly slick noise as you smear your wetness through your slit, feeling it leak down from your needy entrance. 

“Rub faster now.” He murmurs as he bites his lip, hand rubbing at his hardening cock through his pants, the bulge of it becoming ever more obvious. “Come on, pretty girl, beg me to fuck you~” There’s a taunt to his tone. You know he already wants you (this is Howl, after all, the damn can’t ever keep his hands off you) but he’s holding back just to see how far you’ll go for him. 

But you obey his order nonetheless and press down harder on your clit, rubbing faster against it as it throbs beneath your fingertips that flick with need against it. The moans pour past your lips with more frequency now and you feel the beginnings of your orgasm coiling tight in your abdomen, a sensation that leaves you aching for Howl to crawl closer and finish what he started when he clipped that damned chain around your neck this morning. Your lips tremble and the sight of your impending climax makes Howl wet his lips as he undresses himself, taking out his cock to stroke it to the sight of you, pre-cum beading at his pretty pink tip. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Earn it.” He says lowly and he draws nearer to you. The promise of being filled by the cock that he’s fisting in front of you seems to tip you over that edge and you throw your head back against the pillows with a series of cries for him and the liquid-electric pleasure that bursts through your veins. It’s intense, far more intense than when you usually touch yourself, and you can only chalk it down to the enchantment’s effects on you. 

While your head is still reeling up in the clouds of pleasure, you feel Howl’s weight over you, his hands capturing your wrists as his lips crash onto yours to swallow all of your pretty moans, tongue curling into your mouth. But he pulls away just a few millimetres to hear the little choked noise you let out when he pushes his cock into your fluttering heat, still so sensitive from having cum just seconds ago.

“H-Howl-!” You whimper out his name and look up at him with wide eyes. Usually, he gives you tender breaks between orgasms that are filled with sensual touches and soft kisses, never once has he intentionally taken you while you’re already at the height of your sensitivity like this. 

“Ah, it’s like you’re trying to milk me already…” He hisses between his teeth, not having expected you to feel quite this good compared to his hand. He closes his sapphire eyes for a moment to compose himself before he begins to thrust into you, skin smacking against yours with each deep thrust.

“You said you’d take the necklace off!” You gasp between little panted breaths, fighting how your eyes just want to roll back as your hips twitch and your thighs shake. 

“Mh, I did say that~” He agrees with a quiet whine at how tightly you’re squeezing his cock, his hands still keeping your wrists in place as he holds them on either side of your head. His necklace and earrings swing with each thrust into you, his hips angling so that the head of his cock nudges against your sweet spot over and over. He glances down to find you creaming around him already, your pussy soaked with your heightened arousal. “You feel so good… keep squeezing on me like that, my love~” There’s almost a whimper to his tone as he fucks into you, leaning down over your body to bury his face in your neck and take in your scent as his balls smack against your ass. 

“Howl, c-can’t take m-more…” You brokenly plead with him, head tipped back against the pillows and granting his warm mouth perfect access to your neck for him to cover it in kisses and little bites. 

“Oh, yes you can~” He replies and you can feel the smile upon his lips as he says so. 

“You’re gonna let yourself feel so good~” He pushes one of your thighs up with a hand under your knee so that he can thrust deeper into you, making sure to keep his hips angled to hit all of your sweet spots and grinding against you a little each time he bottoms out so that your clit rubs against his pelvis, “And you’re gonna squirt all over my cock~” He murmurs by your ear and catches the lobe between his teeth. 

His words strike just as deeply as his cock does into you and you find yourself clenching around him, making him whimper as his breath fans against the shell of your ear. He speeds up just enough to have you wrapping your legs around his tapered waist, holding him close so that there’s no chance of him trying to pull away at the last minute, something you wouldn’t put past him. 

You moan desperately beneath him as you feel yet another climax approaching, the muscles in your abdomen going taut as you clench on him. Howl’s grip on your wrist and leg tighten as he moans praises into your ear mere moments before you squirt on his cock, making a mess of it. And he continues thrusting into you to ride you through it. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it~” He lets out a shaky breath, his voice whiny in your ear, “Cum on my cock, make it yours, sweetheart~” And it’s just as you’re about to cry out that now it’s really too much that Howl hits his own end too, pulling out to rapidly stroke his cock and watch his cum paint ribbons over your pretty, used pussy. 

Your mind and body are reeling so much from all the pleasure that you don’t even notice that the chain around your throat is being removed until you hear its little links clink together as it’s set down on the bedside. Howl collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, pushing your hair away from your face so that he can pepper your forehead and cheeks in kisses before finally softly pecking your lips. 

“Easy, darling, easy…” He whispers soothingly as he cups your cheek and strokes it with his thumb, “Would you like some water?” He offers softly, knowing that all of this was orchestrated to be very intense for you and you’re deserving of aftercare that’s just as intense. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*

The next morning, Howl wakes with a smile on his lips to find you in his arms, hair tousled from yesterday’s activities and sleep. You’re warm and still naked against him, the skin-on-skin contact making him just want to melt into you. 

He lets out a quiet groan, however, at an ache in his loins when he realises he’s erect. His hand runs down his pale belly to wrap around his cock, only for him to let out a muffled whimper when he finds himself much more sensitive than usual. 

Your eyes crack open as you giggle cheekily, revealing that you haven’t been asleep at all. The wizard’s other hand rises up to his neck to find that the necklace has now been clipped around his throat instead. 

“Oh, you minx…” 

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[springtyme]

If you’re still looking for Steve requests, would you be willing to write Steve who’s sick asf but later has a date planned with R but when she sees him she obvs takes him home and takes care of him

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: Your first date with Steve doesn’t end up going exactly as he had planned.

word count: 2k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐) 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲

“You look like shit,” Robin says deadpanned, her arms crossed as she leans against the counter, her expression half-teasing, half-concerned. 

“Gee, thanks, Rob,”Steve replies, trying to sound normal, but failing miserably as fatigue and hoarseness clings to his voice like a thick fog. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. The fluorescent lights in Family Video seem excessively bright today, and every time a customer opens the door, the sound of the bell makes his head throb and the rush of fresh air makes him shiver.

He had woken up feeling like a truck had run him over, his throat scratchy, head pounding, and every bone in his body aching. Had he woken up feeling like this on any other day, he would have called in sick; but if he did that, it would mean actually admitting that he was sick, and then he would have to call you and cancel your date later, which was absolutely out of the question. 

He had worked out the nerve to ask you out for so long that the idea of backing out now makes his stomach twist with anxiety. He doesn’t understand how he did it so easily in high school. Back then, talking to girls felt like second nature to him, but then he grew up, became less of an asshole and the glitz and glamour of ‘King Steve’ and teenage confidence faded into something far more complicated.

It also dosen’t help the one person he’s been crushing on for ages. Your laughter dances in his memory, a melody that both soothes and torments him. You’re smart, kind, and effortlessly cool; the kind of person who lights up a room without even trying.

Robin raises an eyebrow, the look on her face tells Steve that she isn’t convinced. “Seriously, Harrington, you should just call it a day and go home.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, despite the fact that his body is screaming at him to go home and curl up under a mountain of blankets. 

· · · · ·   

You stand in front of the mirror in the staff bathroom of the café, smoothing down the fabric of your outfit as you check your makeup one last time. Your shift ended a little while ago, but Steve is supposed to come by and pick you up soon after his own shift at Family Video. The anticipation of seeing him makes your heart flutter.

You’ve been replaying the moment Steve asked you out in your head—his slight stammer, the way he ran his fingers through his hair, clearly anxious yet hopeful. It was cute. You could still picture the way his eyes lit up when you said yes, how the corner of his mouth twitched into that adorable smile of his, bright and boyish. 

As you stand there putting on a layer of lip gloss, a soft knock on the door breaks you from your reverie. “Hey, I think your date is here!” Lin, your co-worker, call out, her voice laced with light-hearted mischief. You can hear the smile in her tone.

“Thanks, I’ll be right out!” you reply, capping the tube of gloss and throwing it into your purse, taking a final glance in the mirror before you step out of the bathroom.

As you walk into the main café area, your eyes immediately land on Steve. He’s leaning against the counter, one hand fiddling with his keys, his other holding a bouquet of pink lilies that stands out against the muted tones of the café. The sight makes you smile to yourself.

You navigate through the café, a calm kind of excitement bubbling in your stomach. He catches your eye just as you reach him, but as you get closer, your smile falters slightly. You can’t help but notice the slight paleness of his complexion and how the usual brightness of his honey brown eyes is dulled.

“Hey,” you say, trying to mask your concern with a playful tone as you glimpse the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers, almost sheepish as he offers you the bouquet, “yeah, they are for you.”

You take the flowers, inhaling their sweet fragrance, and your heart swells. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

His smile is earnest, but you catch the hint of a wince as he shifts on his feet.

“Of course,” he replies, a little too quickly, and you immediately pick up on the way his voice cracks slightly.

You take a closer look at him, worry settling in your chest like a weight. “Steve, are you okay?”

He chuckles softly, attempting to brush it off. “Yeah… yeah, I’m great.”

You raise an eyebrow, not feeling fully convinced, but you smile as he leads you out of the café and into the mild autumn air. The moment you step outside, the sunset casts a warm golden light, painting the world in hues of orange and pink. But despite the beauty around you, your attention stays focused on him.

As you walk side by side towards his car, a comfortable silence falls between you, but it’s punctured by Steve’s occasional cough, each one making your heart sink a little more. 

“Steve,” you say gently, your voice dropping to a soft, yet serious tone. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He force a chuckle, his voice raspy and strained. “Yeah… I’m just a little under the weather. It’s nothing, really.” 

You don’t buy it for a second. You know him well enough to see the way his usually bright eyes are glazed over with fatigue. The way he keeps shivering, despite the mild autumn air. You can see the pale cast to his skin and the way his hand shakes as he reaches for the passenger door to let you into his car.  

“Steve, you’re sick,” you state, your tone firm, your hand reaching out to touch his forehead which is warm to the touch. 

He glances away, and you notice how he rubs a hand over his tired eyes as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion. “I didn’t want to cancel on you. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

Your heart flutters, but it’s quickly replaced by a surge of protectiveness. You take a step closer, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Steve, I appreciate that, but I really think you need rest.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can say anything, you interject, “How about this: I take you home, and we can have a cozy night in instead? I can whip up some soup or something.”

The suggestion hangs in the air. You can see the internal struggle on his face—whether he should stick to the plan he’d anticipated or succumb to the reality of how he truly feels. Finally, he nods. “That does sound nice. But can I still take you out on a real date when I’m feeling better?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in his eyes reminds you how much he values your time together.

“Definitely,” you reply, your own smile returning. “Now come on, let’s get you home.” You put out your hand, gesturing for him to hand over his car keys. He hesitates for a moment, looking between you and the keys in his palm, but the warmth in your eyes encourages him. With a resigned sigh, he hands them over.

You slide into the driver’s seat, glancing over at him once you’re both settled in, and your heart squeezes at the sight. He’s leaning back against the headrest, eyelids drooping slightly as he battles against another wave of exhaustion.

“Want me to turn on some music?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood as you pull out of the parking lot.

“Sure, but maybe something a bit soft,” he replies, his voice still strained, though he offers you a small smile. You nod and switch on the radio, letting the soothing melodies fill the car as you drive through the quiet town.

Occasionally, you look over and check on him from the corner of your eye. He’s still pale, and you can see how he shivers slightly in his  seat. Guilt twists in your stomach at the thought that he’d pushed himself just to spend time with you.

The short drive feels like it takes ages, but you finally pull up in front of his house. Steve glances over at you, a hint of reluctance in his gaze. “You don’t...you really don’t have to do this, you know. I can just—”

“Steve, it’s happening. You’re not winning this argument today,” you cut him off playfully, adding a grin to soften your words. He chuckles weakly, appreciating the stubbornness in your tone.

After a second, he nods and climbs out of the car, the effort seeming to cost him. You rush around to help him, looping his arm around your shoulder for support as you lead him inside. Once inside, you help him settle onto the couch, fluffing a few pillows behind his back so he can lean comfortably. “You just sit tight,” you order gently. “I’ll get started on that soup.”

You head to the kitchen, happy to find enough ingredients for a simple chicken noodle. As you chop vegetables and toss everything into the pot, you can’t help but glance back toward the living room now and then.

After a while, the delicious aroma of simmering soup fills the air, a comforting weight that envelops the space. You serve it up in two bowls, bringing them back to the living room.

“Dinner is served,” you announce, adopting a playful tone as you hand him a bowl, the steam swirling up from the broth.

He takes it gratefully, voicing his gratitude before he takes a spoonful of the soup, the tension in his shoulders seems to ease just a bit. You take a seat next to him, and the two of you settle into a comfortable quiet, the sound of spoons clinking against the ceramic filling the space between you.

“See? Not such a bad idea, right?” you say, giving him a gentle smile as his eyes lock with yours. 

“Not at all,” he replies, his mouth curling into a genuine smile that somehow seems to illuminate the weariness in his eyes. “You might just be my new favorite person.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart flutters nonetheless. “Just wait until I force you to watch a rom-com later.”

“Who doesn’t love a rom-com?” he laughs, but it’s cut short by a rough cough that rattles through him. You frown, reaching over to gently place your hand on his forehead again, your palm feeling the rise and fall of his fever.

“You still need to rest,” you remind him softly, and he nods, a hint of vulnerability crossing his features. He takes another sip of soup, his movements slower, as if savoring not just the meal, but the warmth radiating from your presence.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he murmurs, looking at you with a depth of gratitude that sends your heart racing. “I really didn’t want to let you down.”

“Steve, you could never let me down,” you say earnestly. 

The sincerity in your voice hangs in the air between you, a thread of understanding weaving deeper into the fabric of your relationship. He finishes his soup, and as the bowls lay empty on the coffee table, he leans back a little more against the couch, closing his eyes.

You grab a blanket that is hanging over the armrest of the couch and drape it over the two of you, feeling the warmth radiating from his body touch yours. “I’ll stay here with you,” you whisper, brushing back a strand of hair from his forehead.

“Thank you,” he says with a contented sigh, he nestles in further, his hand finding yours on the couch. And as you sit together, the simplicity of sharing warmth, soup, and presence erases the worry as evening turns into night, the world outside fading away.

[missydior]

prince of monaco ౨ৎ

notes: charles leclerc x reader, est. relationship, suggestive content, alcohol, insinuation of nudity (bathing) but no explicit details or sexual activity.

a/n: i wrote this at 11pm & it's a little ridiculous but this is also me projecting my manifestations for him to win his home grand prix this weekend.

The sweet aroma of your Miss Dior: Eau de Parfum in damask rose and incense against pink peonies, clean linen sheets mussed about the inviting embrace of the bed, café au lait from a drained mug on the nightstand beside sweet-smelling lilies, and white, lace stockings abandoned and draped over the velvet loveseat.

Charles' claim of 1st at the Monaco Grand Prix was most blessing, and the perfect excuse for a long night of a plentiful of Moët & Chandon champagne, honorary chants, and celebratory reverie: announcing him the 'prince' of his beloved home, a victory he has been yearning for, since forever.

You had remained with him through the week, watching and admiring through every practice session from your usual seat, enjoying luncheon together and laughing over the usual lovey-dovey or noncommittal subjects as a means to distract him from his nerves before qualifying – the kind of thing he doesn't admit to but you know is only human – and your never-leaving gaze throughout the Grand Prix itself.

Until you got to watch from below with love hearts in your eyes when he stood on that podium, in his true and most divine stature whilst the crowds called for him and the Monégasque anthem resonated like the music of the heavens.

Now, it is quiet in the apartment you both call home, all minimalist but comfortable interior in a palette of white, créme, beige and hints of colour against the décor that define it as yours: the polished trophies before the white-varnished piano, heavy and velvet curtains stirring lazily about closed balconies of their rocaille-esque motifs, the abandoned sweater forgotten on the sofa, your rose crocheting yarn on the coffee table beside a copy of last month's Vogue.

Peaceful and content, stood before the ornate mirror in the en-suite of polished marble and quiet luxury, humming some gentle and absent tune to yourself as you comb your hair – dressed down to the comfortable, white gossamer silk of your négligée – whilst the only tune that resounds being the hushed television down the hall.

It is only a minute later that you are interrupted from your daydreaming by the sound of the mahogany front door as it draws open and closed. The familiar clink of keys set down on the oak furniture in the foyer, shuffled footfalls a little less balanced than usual, quickly silenced against the sound of a familiar voice like melting caramel on the subtle, slurring song of inebriation.

"Chérie?"

Hair comb set down on the neat counter beside the porcelain embellished basin, you absently gnaw at your lower-lip whilst silent feet wander the parquestry of the flooring through the flat in your approach to the source of your boyfriend's return, tucking a hair behind your ear, "Charles, I'm–"

The words are lost on the edge of your tongue the second you emerge from the bedroom's suite, down past the plush sitting area to be met by the sight of him where the corridor joins the rest of the homely setting.

"Bonsoir, bébé."

Even when he is slightly hair-tousled with damp, brunet strays falling about his forehead and the linen of his shirt slightly wrinkled, Charles is a handsome man, devastatingly so; the kind of beautiful that renders the air from your lungs a little even when you hold back light laughter at him now.

From his posture, an effort of an elegant curve to his physique like he is trying to be some suave, pretty flirt from those old, romance comedies you watch, where one elbow is propped against the wood arch of the threshold – the only thing evidently holding him upright – whilst his flushed cheeks strain a little on a dimpled, lazy and contagious smile.

"Hello, Charles."

"Ma belle, I missed you, I'm home," With something close to a brief pout and an attempt at a wink, the man lets his lovely eyes dance down and along your own figure in a lingering admiration and a slow, drawn-out smirk that looks both laughable and far-too-endearing, lithe fingers absently adjusting his loosened shirt collar as you come closer.

"I can see that," In response, you try not to appear amused though it is perceptible on the curve by the corner of your sweet mouth when his eyes follow the subtle shift of your hips as you draw forward until your arms fold around his midriff, breathing him in: champagne and cologne, hints of warm amber and rosewood. "You're drunk."

His arm falls around your shoulder comfortably as he sways against you, kissing the crown of your head like a useless reassurance when he murmurs a lieu of words in the thickened curl of his accent, "Non, ça va, je–"

"Charles." Your face shifts with a look, the both of you stumbling a little backwards where his weight almost has you falling on the edge of a floral rug, a hushed, noncommittal sound close to a chuckle falling from the man as he buries his face into the side of your neck with the punctuation of an open-mouth kiss.

"D'accord, d'accord."

"Stupid," You mutter affectionately, rolling your eyes fondly despite knowing all too well what has him so distracted, the warmth of his mouth and the gentle rasp of his five o'clock shadow tickling the underside of your jaw and the sensitivity there, a purr reverberating from the back of his throat as a response.

"Are you hungry– would you like anything?"

"Just you, chérie, I want to..." The Monégasque trails off momentarily like he is disputing internally with his own dialogue, lightly calloused palms feeling the curve of your waist through pale silk before pausing at your derrière absently – tracing his tongue against the edge of pearlescent teeth – as the two of you move further through the sitting room, his voice a whisper, "Je veux te baiser, mon ange."

With a blush dusting the edges of your cheekbones at the obscène words, you offer a half-apologetic smile whilst stroking back his tousled hair, "How about we get dressed down and settled first, at least?"

Initially, he seems reluctant to offer any hint of acquiescence but he eventually nods a little with a vague sound of acknowledgement, fingertips still feeling over your figure as you walk the path together before reaching the bathroom, the door falling shut gently.

Even when the reality of the presence has you accepting tonight shall be long, the man is undoubtedly his most entertaining and equally sweet as romanticised prophecies when he is intoxicated.

"Mm," It is the only indication you are given when Charles' touch falls upon the lace edges of your négligée, drawing it down the curve of your shoulder slowly as he traces the shell of your ear with his mouth, "You're wearing my favourite."

A soft laugh leaves the depth of your chest – a hushed affirmative sound in reply – before his hands come to cradle either side of your jaw tenderly whilst his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek, the kiss that follows his gentle persuasion more loving, his lips parted softly.

Just as quickly as the almost peaceful, drawn-out intimacy begins, it ends when he gives some hushed, breathless sound of sheer enjoyment whilst his hips absently meets yours until you feel the edge of the basin behind, a palm splaying over his chest just enough to encourage him from pausing.

"We can have a nice bath first and then I might consider your suggestion, monsieur," You offer gently in hushed humour, undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt whilst sealing your sentence with a chaste kiss near his chin.

"I'd much rather have you."

"So romantic," Muttering the words quietly, your nose brushes the bridge of his own fractionally where you see the slight glaze of liquor in his eyes, like gentle moss and warm oak, his mouth shifting almost proudly with momentarily met gazes.

"Only for you, mon cœur, I could write you sonnets of love, la mélodie de tes yeux–"

"Okay, Romeo Montague, how about you wash first?"

The initial hope had only been to coax him into the warmth of the bath waters amongst a touch lavender oil that threatens to lull him further into quiet and peace, wash his hair from your seat and prevent the possibility of any difficulty, though clothes are mutually forgotten on the marble floors and small, white-cotton rug when he guilts you into joining him.

"Charles," A whisper of his name though the cadence of your voice lacks the intent of reproach, bodies close together as he guides you into a comfortable situation about his lap whilst you work nimble fingers through his dampened hair slowly, hoping to distract him from anything but washing and settling down from the dizziness of too much alcohol.

"You smell nice," He mumbles indulgently against your shoulder, tracing a kiss on the jut of your collarbone in the dreamy lull of his voice as though lost in the figments of his own thoughts, "Like les fleurs..."

"And you smell like a bottle of Moët."

The man offers a lowered tune of disagreement, a palm idly stroking the curve of your thigh and down the inside of your knee beneath the warm water as you lather the product through his tresses, holding back a smile when he responds drunkenly like some smitten, hopeless lover of the poets:

"Non, c'est seulement le parfum des nuages."

It is the kind of sweet words that would usually have your cheeks warming or laughing like some conjured image of him in your mind, rifling through books of poetry because you cannot fathom him thinking of such phrases alone, though the moment his lips find the curve of your throat and the sensitive area beneath your jaw, it is harder not to succumb to the gentle temptation and let him have his way, a sigh falling from you.

"What are you doing?"

"Loving you." He says the words so easily, like it is the simplest, most natural truth he could ever admit, the warmth and wetness of his mouth trailing the lines of your throat and across the arch of your shoulders.

"You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," He sounds proud of himself. Then, he is guiding the two of you, bodies pressed flush against one another as you are moved back, the weight of him familiar and the pressure of his mouth meeting yours slowly, "Let me love you, s'il vous plaît, ma chérie."

There are the smallest fragments of his soul and the secrets of his heart within the way his body moves, the gentle touch and the softness, the vulnerability and the passion even in the humour of his intoxicated mannerisms; how he makes love and the manner he holds you after, and there is an undeniable and irrefutable trust you hold for him alone.

[brandileigh2003]

Raising Harry and/or teddy recs. I know I'm missing some so send me your faves or self rec ❤️❤️ (I keep updated ones at the bottom)

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

-orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond get back together ft Chronic Illness

-my love, take care of yourself by @littleoldrachel ft mental health and chronic

-Anything that msalexwp writes that includes the trope is fantastic

Let's Play Pretend muggle fake dating real feelings

Second Generation get back together

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe get back together ft Chronic Illness @lavenderhaze

-Like Real People Do by thirdcrow: coffee shop, great disability rep

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account muggle get together

-Babysitting For Dummies by Middleofamoment (37k) au raising teddy get together (theres a sequel and 3rd to come)

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417: muggle texting kidfic

-Blue Moon Café by @lazuli-moon raising teddy coffee shop

-Forever Is a State of Mind -orphaned account ft deaf remus

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot

-the mayors of simpleton by @fruityindividual older wolfstar get back together ft blind remus

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent

-Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by @tracingpatternswrites

-Spare! by B1ackCatChatsBack muggle get together

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbars get back together

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and TracingPatterns magical divergent

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by @ratmom819 ft chronic illness

-Puppy Magic by @demonbanisher thefifthmarauder17 magical divergent

-what a wonder (what a waste) by peachyybabe mcd magical divergent ft trans remus, mental illness and

-Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account older wolfstar texting

-So I'll Take My) Good Fortune by orphan_account muggle uni

-The Molinete & the Media Luna by punkwolfstar ft disability

-beautiful boy (darling boy) by @impishtubist and roaming_the_greenwood1: magical divergent ft trans remus

-Multiplying Parents by @heartofspells harry wants to find Sirius a bf

-ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 muggle au get together

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row divergent

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment older wolfstar get back together @mayescapade

-Basilisks, Boggarts and Boyfriends (oh my) by OptimisticDinosaur

-Of Caffeine Addictions and Nail Polish by BlueAzalea au pining and fluff

Check out my fandom wife lucigoo she has some wonderful ones

Common Woodbrown by @imochan

that’s the art of getting by sarewolf

----Self rec: parks and playdates ft disability plus trans and asexual remus

~~Others' recs ~~

-Wherever I am/ you will always be - BrigidFaye

(anon): Under Foot, Under Moon by sometimeswelose

-An unexpected reunion- r33sesPieces

Rhythm & Blues by lez_writes13

stealing harry by @copperbadge

-Blanket Fort by @samynnad102687 : Regulus, James, and Harry build a blanket fort.

-Trick-or-Treating by Samynnad102687: The Marauders, Regulus, and Lily take Harry Trick-or-Treating.

-Unbound by you by friendlyneighborhoodtrickster, TracingPatterns

-Moonless Nights by @sliebman10 Sirius is trying to rebuild his life after the fateful Halloween of 1981. He's struggling to come to terms with Remus's betrayal and his new role as Harry's guardian.

-Family Vacation by sliebman10: Sirius is skeptical that a family resort is where he wants to spend his first summer vacation with Harry there, but he comes to see its merits when he meets Remus and his family.

-All the soul and body scars by 1point21

-To build a family - secondsister

-Forever live and die - wolfpants

--feel free to check it my main rec list

Also - the wolfstar librarian has awesome collections for raising harry

**new additions**

-oh, summer child by peachyybabe Sirius and remus get pregnant. Fluff 💙

•There Is No Man, However Wise by enigmaticblue

•Teddy Lupins big day out. by M0ving_in_place (3k) modern. teddy has ASD

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭

Lando Norris x reader

Word count: 5.3k

Summary: An innocent round of golf with your friend's friends turns into a wirlwind of emotions and feelings

Warnings: Golf written by a no golf-fan, smut, fluff

Notes: Landoo again... I was going to write it about Charles but then it was golf, and Alex so it became a Lando one again but he has kinda grown on me, not gonna lie. As always it's gone a bit long...

"Okay, that was just bad y/n" Lily teased, bumping her hip with yours as she went past to gather her ball. "Shut up Lily!" you pouted following her example and picking up the ball that was laid close to the hole but not in it. Typically.

"It's not my fault you haven't trained enough sweetie" she mocked, her expression playful and teasing as you just huffed. "How the fuck have you had so much time training huh? You've been traveling with Alex for months now" you asked, baffled how she could accuse you for not training enough.

"Well we have played together, and even though Alex is not big competition it's still practice, plus some of his friends are slightly better"

"Well I've tried to train as much as possible but you know I have another work" you hummed, slightly envying her lifestyle. "I know y/n and I'm only teasing you, It's just fun to make you envious"

"Yeah it's so fun to stand in the café when you send me pictures of you and Alex on track or when you are swimming, who swims in November?"

Lily giggled as you walked side by side, dragging your carts behind you. Decided it was more fun to walk together than driving a car.

"It's not November cold there, it's hotter than summer so of course we will swim and why not tease you with it?"

"Because it's mean?" you suggested but Lily only laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

"I think it's fine, plus I invite you to come with sometimes"

"I know, but-"

"You work, I understand that" she smiled gently, knowing you needed the money to have a place to live and study.

"Anywaaays" she drawled out, her eyes telling you what she was gonna ask you and you shook your head immideately. "No Lily, don't even suggest it"

"Why not! They are all coming here next week for break, well all that lives in Monaco of course and Alex already invited me for a game, just... join. Once. It could be a nice break from work"

Your head shook through all of her words, telling her no no NO

But she didn't listened, Lily never did. She was stubborn like that.

"Once"

"No, I don't want to meet these people"

"Why not y/n, why not. Also you've already met them!"

"Because-" "Because what?" she interupted making you groan "Because. It would be weird!" you exclaimed, making her giggle

"Is this because of Lando?"

Her eyes gleamed with teasing and laughter. Her tried serious face failing miserably.

"No"

"Oh it is, it is" she giggled, poking you in the side, completely ignoring your deathglare as she continued to giggle

"It's not about him, it just... it would be really awkvard"

"Because of Lando?" "Because of Lando and all the others"

"I think it's more because of a certain brit who slid into your Dm's"

"Well okay that will be awkvard as hell, especially since I didn't even answer" Lily laughed, a light laugh that made you smile even though you didn't want to, this was a seruous thing.

"I think you're fine sweetie" "No I am not going"

-

The chatter continued through the whole round, your play slowly picking up, after all it had been long since you last played a whole round like this.

The one thing that didn't get better was Lily's nagging and by the time you stood at the parking lot, waiting for Alex to pick you up for lunch you were going insane.

"Alex tell your girlfriend to shut up"

Alex's eyes went wide as he looked between you, Lily giggling at him, poking her tongue out at you "he would never"

"You are too cute"

"Wha-what?" Alex stammered out, mouth slightly open as he looked between you.

"She has been nagging me the whole time about going with you to play golf"

Alex's eyes lit up and suddenly you regretted telling him that,

fuck

"That's a great idea! It would be so much fun! They love you!"

You let out a groan, glaring at Lily who clapped her hands together in excitment. You felt yourself bend, giving in to their excitment.

"Fine! Fuck you both because why are you always agreeing with each other but fine I will go on ONE golf round with you and if it's awkvard I will decide what we do for the rest of the year"

Both Alex and Lily giggled together over your words and tone, they had won this time.

"Why are you nerovus?" Lily smirked as you climbed into her car, already pouting.

"Stop it already, I will walk back in and lock myself with my tv" you huffed not very threathingly but Lily seemed to take your little threat seriously because she stopped the teasing immideately.

"Well you look cute at least" she smiled, patting your leg reasuringly "And I promise it will be fun, they are all cool to be around even if you don't know them too well which by the way is incredible seeming as your best friend is dating a driver"

You smiled at her, shrugging "It just never interested me that much, it's cool sure but I don't really think the men are the interesting part of it"

"I think you can change your mind, they are all nice enough"

"I have met some!" you defended and she sniggered "Yeah right, George because that went so well?"

"Stop it, he will not be there tody will he?"

By her face you knew he would before she hesitantly admitted it, "Maybe he will" she winced and you groaned

"Nooo, Lily! This was awkvard enough with Lando! Now George as well"

"It's fine, he didn't seem to hate you after it" "Lily, do you not remember?! I literally said he looked like a Ken and turned him down when he asked me on a date, that is awkvard as hell!"

"Well it was ages ago, plus he has a girlfriend now, it's fine!" Lily waved you off and you couldn't do anything but to pout about it.

-

"Where is the girls?" Alex questioned as he walked out towards the small group on the green grass, clubs and carts ready, smiles on their faces and caps on top of their heads. It was a sunny day, the warmth burning their bare arms and legs as they waited.

"I haven't seen Lily" George shrugged, it wasn't especially often both Alex and Lily joined the small golf cirlce on the grid but when they did it was always loud complaints because Lily always won.

"Did I not tell you that y/n is joining as well?"

"No bro, what the fuck" Lando murmured, his hand combing through his curls before putting the cap on again. "Fuck it's gonna be awkvard"

"Why would it be awkard?"

"Uh-I I kinda slid into her dms telling her she was pretty and all but she never responded"

An echo of laughter spilled from the group but Lando wasn't amused in the slightest "Welcome to the club man, I think soon all of us has been rejected by her some time in life" "Really?"

"She told me I looked like Ken and I qoute 'no thank you' when I asked her on a date and Carlos here tried to charm her with Spanish but she physically nudged him away and even Charles didn't manage to get her number, but to his defence she was with her ex then"

"So I'm not the only one at least?" Lando hummed, feeling a bit less awkvard at the revealation.

"For sure not" Alex smiled, patting his shoulder as he spotted the girls finally, smiling gently at your nervous look.

-

It went better than expected, nothing too awkvard and nothing horrendous happening even though it's awkvard enough to meet with the three guys you rejected in some ways but they were nice enough to brush it off and have a good time with you and Lily, after all the attempts from both Carlos and George had been a long time ago. What was a dread became a fun afternoon of mixed great and awful swings and laughter.

-

"So, the guys says you've rejected half the grid?"

Lando's voice brought you out of your concentration of watching Alex put. His eyes looking gently at yours, his skin crinkling around his eyes as he smiled wide. "Do they now?" you smiled back, shrugging your shoulders

"I wouldn't say I have rejected all of them, more... lack of interest and all of them have given up straight away. But some I did reject directly, sure"

"Like George?"

You couldn't help but giggle "Like George yeah"

"What about me? Was it a direct rejection or lack of interest?"

The question was sincere, serious and it caught you of guard. You had actually never meant to ignore Lando's dm but after you'd opened it it kind off just disapeared in your memory until it seemed too weird to answer it.

"I guess lack of interest"

"So does that mean you will go on a date with me if I show more interest?"

You grinned, teeth showing as you shrugged with a smile

The idea didn't oppose you, you kinda liked how direct he was, straight to the point. He didn't look bad, not at all. He was extremely hot with his bright smile and brown curls dripping into colourful eyes. You pondered it a little, date? It seemed inocent enough but was it?

Your lips pouted in thought as you met his eyes again "If you win the next hole I'll go to dinner with you"

"Really?" Lando smiled so brightly it made you chuckle "Sure" you grinned, winking at him as you walked ahead.

-

He was not bad, you had to give him that but you were better there was no question about it. However you seemed to slack on this hole, bad first hit-mainly because of Lando's distractions- made it one more swing than Lando in total, something the Brit celebrated in earnest.

He was so happy he could start skipping and it made the blow soften a little. You did want to go on a date with him afterall so in a way it didn't feel like a loss.

The whole round went the same, chatting and joking. Observing the Brit every given second, trying to play it off before repeating it.

It was not subtle but you didn't try to be either. He was nice to rest your eyes on, so you did.

When the round came to an end and you all stood at the parking lot, chatting and joking about the just played round Lando pulled you away slightly, smiling small as he combed his hand through his curls.

"Hey, you think I can get your number?"

Your eyes snapped up to his, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Sure"

"Really?" he asked with suprise

You laughed softly, shrugging "I did agree on a date did I not? It would seem weird to not give you my number" Lando chuckled "Sure"

Despite your reluctance to go in the first place it turned out to be a common thing in the next couple of weeks. You felt yourself growing fond of the guys and spending time with Alex and Lily was always fun.

After Lando's win you had decided on a date weeks forward, why so far away you didn't know but apparently it had something to do with his training schedules and something around the topic. You didn't bother.

Regardless you felt a sear of hapiness everytime you saw his brown curls amongst the group. Usually hearing his gorgous laugh before you laid eyes upon him. But the sear of hapiness was nothing against the rumble of disapointment you felt whenever he wasn't there. Trying to mask the disapointment was hard.

He texted you. Every day, especially the days you didn't see him. It made your heart almost skip a beat whenever his name popped up on the screen, grumbling at yourself for the stupid reaction.

To keep it short your heart did sommersaults at the mention of him and it was stupid because you were still practically strangers.

He looked like a rom-com perfect date. Black dress pants and a dark button up. His curls were styled, not overly much but still enough to not flop around everywhere and he sported a warm, comfortable smile as he waited.

You felt giddy, something you hated but it was inevitable. His face lit up as he saw you striding towards him, eyes glittering in the dim light of the lobby.

"You look gorgous" he smiled, a line you deemed cheesy, something everyone said but it still made your heart skip a beat. Because it was Lando.

"Thank you" you smiled, kissing his cheek softly, loving the way his face flushed at the action, a sudden shyness taking over the usually confident guy.

Lando tried to compose himself as he led you out the door, smiling softly as you jumped into the car.

You had decided for a simple dinner date. Eating at a small comfortable place where you hopefully could be alone to just talk, get to know eachother in private and focus only on you, not the other idiots you called friends.

Lando's restuarant choice didn't disapoint. You had agreed on not going to any fine dining or exclusive super place but a normal cozy place. And he had done well. Booked a private table in a extremely cozy little restuarant. Red velvet sofas with dark wood tables and dim lit candles. It gave a homey feeling and your table seemed to be the furthest away from everyone else's giving you the perfect lone time you could posssibly find in Monaco.

"Wow, I didn't think you would manage this well"

Lando snorted, looking almost offended as you giggled at his face. "What?"

"Well not to bring you down but this is Monaco after all, it's an fine dining country"

Lando tilted his head, that was true and to be completely honest he couldn't take all the credit. He had gotten some, well, a lot of help from Lily and Alex to find the best spot possible for you but you didn't have to know that.

"I'm happy you like it" he said instead, smiling dumbly at you in a way that made you have to smile back.

"I do, it's great" you nodded as he poured up some water in the glass in front of you"

He was so easy to be around, silence never uncomfortable, talk never pushed. It flew naturally like you had known the guy for years. He made you laugh so loudly even the personel seemed to pick up on it, his flattering seemed to make you blush endlessly and his stories made you intruiged.

You loved how easily he was telling you about formula one, how he spoke to you easily about it, not complexing the sport you knew very little about. You loved how he trusted you with more private stories, loving how his eyes turned into hearts as he talked about his family and their support. But what you loved the most was how easy he fell apart under you. One comment and his cheeks turned a deep pink colour, eyes fleeting away from yours as a choked sound made it past his lips with a giggle.

To put it shortly the date was amazing, making you feel the same flutter you had felt every time you had seen his curly head on the golf course or everytime his name had popped up on your phone this last weeks.

It was riddicolous, you knew that but it didn't stop the spiralling feelings and flutter in your tummy.

After a heated discussion about Alex's golfing skills you left the restuarant, sated and full of the warm belly-filling food the place had provided. Lando had blushingly asked you if you wanted to go to his apartment, to 'watch a movie or something' and you had accepted, not caring what that would include or not just not wanting to seperate from him yet.

The walk was short, Lando's laughter filling the air of Monaco and lightning it up as you walked along the darkening streets.

His apartment was nothing short of amazing, not because you had thought differently. He was a formula one driver after all but still. It was a lot bigger than yours, not to bring down your own place which you loved, but this was the next level.

"Wow, this view is fantastic" you mumbled, going straight past him to look at the view of Monaco from his window. He had not put a lot of effort into decorating, something you deemed fine since he barely was here anyway but the space still looked nice. Modern as hell, but nice.

"Wow, just walk right through me why don't you" he muttered sarcastically making you huff out a laugh as you tore your eyes away from the view. "Sorry but this is... remarkable"

"And I am not?"

"Well I can't see the whole of Monaco in you can I?"

"I don't think you have even tried, have you?"

You giggled, poking his chest teasingly as he stood in the open room. His coat and shoes discarded, revealing his great looking button-up once again. "Fuck you look good in this" you hummed, teasing your finger on his first button on his shirt.

"Mhm, is that how it is miss y/n?"

You peeled your eyes off his gorgous shape and looked him in the eyes, the orbs screaming with cockiness and a hidden smirk.

"Been thinking all evening off what's underneath it" you admitted, letting your eyes travel again "I invited you here to watch a movie, but you have such dirty thoughts" he tutted jokingly "Sure" you scoffed, smiling at him

"A movie was what you were thinking"

Lando didn't answer, just gave you a giggly smile you reciprocrated.

His lips met yours in an instant, moving softly and slowly against yours, no hurry just savouring the moment. His lips were soft against yours, following you as you tilted your head slightly.

When you broke apart that was it, no itchy hands on each other no intention to do anything more right now. Both just sated to have shared that. Instead you took a step back. Grinning at the brunette as you walked around the sofa and plopping down in the comfortable furniture. “What’s the movie then?”

Lando smiled, not sitting next to you but leaning over the back of the sofa to get closer to you. “Whatever you want, you choose. Do you want something to drink?”

“Okay, uhm yes please, I take whatever you do” you smiled softly before reaching for the tv remote. Scrolling through the many apps and channels he had to pick a movie.

-

The movie was meh, not interesting enough to take your mind off the guy next to you but not boring enough to stop.

Lando kept on joking with you, straight up teasing you during the movie. Hands moving down your body, not in a overly sexual way but the way he cracked a joke, or a dirty comment made you boil with need and hotness.

It didn't take long until you broke. Shuffling up in the sofa, catching his gaze as you watched him with need in your eyes. His own eyes gleaming with cockiness and success. Watching his eyes were enough, scootching over you straddled his lap, catching him with slight surprise as you pushed your lips against his, needy and rough.

However it didn't take him even a second to respond to the kiss, battling for control, tongues fighting and hands gripping wherever they could reach.

Neediness pooled in your stomach but you kept it in control, not wanting to let him have all the control. "Fuck y/n" he sighed, leaning his head back over the couch as you pulled apart for a moment.

"Bedroom?" he smirked, one eyebrow raising and if you wouldn't want this so bad you would scoff at his expression but it was also Lando, you would not excpect any less from him.

Instead you nodded, letting him lead you to his bedroom which was just as gorgous as his livingroom. Big windows with view over Monaco, a few pictures on the wall and nice furnitures.

However he didn't let you spend a lot of time looking at the decor, instead towering over you, attacking you with his lips.

"I usually don't agree on doing these things on the first date" you hummed against his skin, his smile warming your heart even more. "Well technically I wouldn't count this as a first date because I feel like I know you by now"

You giggled "You are really full of it aren't you?"

His smile was so achingly sweet, made butterflies swarm in your belly and overflow with adoration.

You leaned up, catching his mouth with your again, kissing him slowly and affectionately, hand scratching on his scalp and luring out a soft sound from him which only made your heart beat faster.

Heat bloomed in your stomach, desire to touch him and make him feel good took over your thoughts as you kissed down his jaw, hands gently sliding under his shirt.

His muscles tensed under your cold fingertips, feeling out his sculpted stomach and muscles, gently rubbing over his nipples before trailing down towards his v-line and then back up again.

His mouth had dropped open slightly, eyes following your every move as he breathed hard, small noises tumbling out of him whenever your hands rubbed over his nipples or teased his pant-line, frustration bubbling in the small grunts and huffs as you took your time, feeeling him up, memorizing every part of his skin under your fingers.

When he had had enough he ripped the buttons open in a hurry before tugging it right off his body, throwing it away before he roughly guided your face to his again, wanting, no needing to kiss you.

The kiss was rough, heated and a battle of control. A battle you won as he pulled back and locked eyes with yours. His pretty eyes was glazed over with pure desire, visable in every centimeter of his body. In the way his shoulders tensed, body heaved and eyes glazing over.

You looked as he unbottoned his pants before tugging them off, taking a seat on his bed with an open invation dangling in the air. An invitation you took.

Two short steps and his hands enveloped you, pushing you against his hot body, limbs and breaths entangled as you sat straddled on his lap. His hands ran all over you, ripping your shirt off your body, your skirt bundling up around your hips as they moved against him.

His hot hands settled on your thighs, eyes not seeming able to leave were your panties where showing, sliding against his boxers.

When he met your eyes again you slid off his lap to the floor, loving the way his eyes widened and mouth opened as you settled on your knees, prompting him to sit up better on the edge of the bed.

Hands teasing over his boxers before his patience ran out. Eager fingers pushing yours away to discard the item. You couldn't help but to giggle at him, eyes narrowing him down "Eager much?" "Shut up" he grumbled, visably relived over the freedom he know had.

Your eyes slowly looked him up and down, completely naked in front of you, so easily and comfortable displayed on the bed. Not an ounce of embarrasment or selfconciousness, with all right.

He was gorgous from head to toe, his legs tense placed on the floor, hands gripping the bedsheet, arms flexing his toned muscles, chest heaving, his sculpted body, muscles showing, abs glistening, his face already looking fucked out despite having barely even started. His brown curls were a wirlwind of chaos, eyes looking at you with so much attention and focus, dick standing proudly against his stomach. He looked dreamy. Drool worthy.

When he grunted you realized how long you had been staring at him, clearing your head you stood up only to crawl out of your skirt and brah before dropping to your knees again. Hand immideately reaching for his hard dick.

It was already leeking pre-cum, a result of the teasing you had been keeping up for long now. You jerked him slowly, relishing in the way his eyes fluttered, not knowing where to look, eyes flickering between your newly revealed skin, eyes and to where your hand was currently moving over him.

A groan left Lando's lips as you thumbed his tip, hips jerking to try to savour the feeling but you didn't let him instead leaning forward to lick a bold stripe from base to tip. The sounds he let out was filfthy eyes closing, mouth agape. You could probably cum just looking at him.

"Fuck y/n" he grunted, hips jerking slightly, trying to get your tongue closer to him again and you let him, swirling your tongue over his tip before taking him in your mouth, slowly sinking down until you couldn't anymore.

You set a brutal pace, hand twirling around his base whilst your mouth sloppily worked over his tip, messily running your tongue on the underside of his dick every now and then.

He had lost the little control he had, groaning and moaning without a care, his head thrown back and hips thrusting desperately. You knew he was close without him having to say it and when he started to jerk more promiment you stopped, letting go of his dick with a pronographic pop.

He whined

He fucking whined and you felt like you were on fire. He was so sexy, so fucking sexy and you couldn't let it go. Desperation flowing in your core as you looked up at him, no shields from what you felt.

"Come up here" he whispered, his hand on your cheek guiding you up to his lips, gently flipping you into the matress, his body covering yours. A sudden gentleness taking over the whole sitatuion as he peppered kissed over your body. Moving from face down to your core. Licking over your nipples, gently sucking your skin, licking over your navel, inner thighs. Teasing you just like you had with him, delicate fingers peeling your underwear off.

When his mouth ghosted over your core you jerked, hands finding his curls pulling them like nothing else mattered.

He was skillfull, more so than you had imagined as he ate you out. Tongue moving, fingers holding, lips sucking, murmurs traveling through your body.

You moaned, thighs clenching around his head. The Brit let out a soft chuckle at your reaction, relishing in the way your eyes fluttered and body arched under his tongue but it didn't stop him from diving straight in. Licking and sucking until all you could do was pant.

He didn't let you come, the whimper on your lips disapearing as you bit your lip, hips chasing his mouth, another chuckle. A mocking one.

He didn't have much resolve left, eyes searching yours before positioning himself, gently pushing in as you nodded, too much excitment.

His head in the nape of your neck breathed hard against your collarbone, barely containing the lewd sounds escaping his soft lips, setting a gentle slow pace.

"Ah"

"Fuck baby" he groaned, meeting your hips with his making the friction tenfold. It felt like your head was swimming with emotions, moans you didn't even notice tumbled from your lips, sweet like sugar, filthy as few.

His hands hooked under your legs, drawing you even closer to him, using the hold to go harder, deeper and it felt like you would black out, eyes closing as he pounded into you. Eyebrows frowning in concentration as he tried to focus his thrusts.

"Feel good hm?"

It felt all too much, body squirming to get away from him, away from his thrusts touching your most sensitive places. Away from the overwhelming pleasure but he didn't let you. Just held you in place as he continued and you were positive you would soon start to sob.

"Fuck you take it so good" he grunted, hands tightening on your hips, pace never relenting, you couldn't answer just moan at his words. You couldn't in your life imagine him being this good in bed, nor so good at dirty talk, so hot.

"You close?" he mumbled, his hips starting to jerk slightly as he got closer to his release, keeping a hold on himself. "Hm?" he pushed as you didn't answer him, head spinning. "Yes, yes so close" you mumbled, positively trashing on the soft sheets.

It came fast and hard, blindingly so as you fell over the edge. Body crumbling, mouth open in silent moans. Lando came immideately, loud groans escaping his lips before he could stop himself, eyes dropped close, jaw slack. His eyes burning with pleasure and adoration, curls slick of sweat on his forhead, body heaving. He looked so gorgous you never wanted to forget this, wanting to etch this picture in your brain.

You felt spent to your very core as you relaxed, Lando's body covering yours once again but this time in a soft manner.

Falling asleep had never felt so easy as it did in his arms, his soft calm breaths tickling your cheek, arms wrapped around you thightly.

"Wow y/n! What has happened with you?" Lily giggled, watching as you did the perfect swing, the ball landing exceptionally close to the hole. "How much have you practiced?"

You grinned at her, raising one eyebrow, shoulders shrugging. "Not that much"

Lily didn't reply but her eyes held so many words you didn't want to reply to. So many questions danced behind her irises, smile saying it all.

"Maybe it's just the extra energy?"

"Don't start" you grumbled, pushing her to make her swing but she didn't, stubborn to say what she wanted to and at this ocassion she wanted to tease you to crumbles. "What, I mean I haven't pointed it out yet but let's talk about hickies huh? What is this y/n, are we back to being teenagers?"

You horrid face made Lily crumble in laughter, almost dropping her cart in the commotion. Your hand instinctively went up to your neck, grimazing as you did so. "That little prick!" you exclaimed, shaking your head as Lily continued to laugh.

When the laughter sobered off you turned to look at her again, a warm smile now etched on her face. "But hey, y/n. I'm really happy for you, he is a great guy and all that matters for me is that you are happy" "Aw, going soft on me now Lils?" "Maybe? I just always wanted what's best for you" she said softly

"I know" you smiled, throwing your arm around her shoulders as you continued walking

"But If you say anything to Alex about this!" you half heartedly threathened making her laugh, head leaning against yours.

[honeyhae-svt]

🎮03 | No Feelings Involved🎭

Part-Time Lover | JxW - masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: smut, strong language (profanity), explicit language, petty arguments, mention of alcohol consumption, depictions of stress/anxiety related to online and work life, light suggestive jokes/humor, suggestive content, enemies-to-lovers dynamic, jealousy, mature themes (alcohol, party scenes), angst, emotional manipulation, romantic rivalry, descriptive intimacy. smut warnings: masturbation (both f and m), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (fictional context, not ideal IRL), rough sex, degradation (really slight. f being called "slut" once), overstimulation, tension-filled build-up, power dynamics (m dom) wc: 11,087 ♪ playlist ♪ : one of the girls (the weekend, lily rose depp, jennie), love me harder (ariana grande, the weekend), toxic (britney spears), kiss it better (rihanna), don't blame me (taylor swift).

03

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a vivid, merciless replay of every single humiliating detail from the night before. It wasn't just a hangover—it was the full-course regret special. You'd tried so hard to push the memory of last night into the furthest corner of your mind, but it refused to budge. Instead, it danced right in front of you, mocking you with every cringe-worthy second. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk.

Groaning, you splashed cold water onto your face, scrubbing with an almost aggressive force as though that would somehow erase your mistakes. This is why alcohol is the devil.

You'd made this promise to yourself before—swearing off drinking after every disastrous night out—but this time, you meant it. Probably. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your thoughts racing. You couldn't let this ruin you. Vulnerability was dangerous. It was messy. It made everything worse. No, you couldn't afford that—not with Jeonghan, especially not with Jeonghan. You straightened your back, glaring at your reflection as if it could fight you back. Be your fucking self, you dumb idiot. But no matter how much you mentally pep-talked yourself, there was no escaping the glaring, undeniable fact: you tried to kiss your boss last night.

What the hell was wrong with you? Even worse, you'd been so drunk that your stupid, impulsive actions had no logic behind them. You didn't even know why you did it. And now you were paying the price. When you arrived at work, Jeonghan was... off. It wasn't his usual self—the playful, teasing boss who would occasionally poke fun at you for being "too serious" or "too good" at your job. No, today he was colder. Detached. His voice was clipped, his instructions sharp and curt. "Get my coffee," he'd said that morning, handing you a slip of paper with the name of some café that you realized, to your horror, was an hour's drive away.

"Wait—this is in another city." "I know." He didn't even look up from his desk. "Be quick about it." You wanted to scream. Was this some kind of punishment? Clearly, yes. But like the professional you prided yourself on being (even though you were currently drowning in humiliation), you'd complied. You got in your car and drove, cursing yourself—and Jeonghan—the entire time. By the time you got back, it was already afternoon. You placed the coffee on his desk, glaring at it because, of course, it had long since gone cold. He didn't even glance at it. "Is there anything else you need?" you asked, keeping your tone as even as possible, though your patience was fraying like a worn thread. "No." He didn't even look at you. "Okay." You turned on your heel, jaw clenched, heart pounding with a mixture of frustration and guilt. This coldness of his—this distance—was suffocating. You wanted to apologize, but how could you when he wouldn't even give you a chance? A text wouldn't cut it. That would be way too insincere. Apologies needed to be face-to-face, with your pride laid bare. But Jeonghan wasn't letting you anywhere near his walls. The day dragged on. The tension between you two was thick enough to slice through, and every interaction felt like walking on shards of glass. You were used to his teasing, his sly remarks, even his annoying requests—but this cold, indifferent Jeonghan was something you weren't prepared for. You only had yourself to blame. By the time the clock struck 6 PM, you were ready to collapse. Still, you lingered by your desk, scrolling mindlessly through emails, hoping he'd say something—maybe even address the elephant in the room. But he never did. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This is hell. Finally, you mustered the courage to approach his office door, knocking lightly. "Jeonghan?" "Come in," came his voice, detached as ever. You pushed the door open, stepping inside. He was seated at his desk, looking over some paperwork, his expression unreadable. "I..." you started, but your throat tightened, and the words caught. His gaze flicked up to you, sharp and expectant, and suddenly, every ounce of bravery you'd scraped together began to crumble. You swallowed hard, your palms sweating. "About last night... I—" "Don't." His voice cut through the air like a knife. Your breath hitched. "I just want to—" "Forget about it." His tone was final, the authority in his voice leaving no room for argument. But there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something unspoken, something unreadable—that gave you pause. You clenched your fists, nodding stiffly. "Fine." And with that, you turned and left his office, your chest tight and your mind spinning. If he wanted to play this cold war game, then fine. Two could play at that. But deep down, you knew this was far from over.

By the time you finally got home, you wanted nothing more than to curl up under a blanket and forget the entire day. But the universe had other plans. Your phone buzzed with a message from your mom:

Mom: I sent the caretaker home early today, so I'm alone. Could you visit, dear?

You didn't hesitate. Dropping your bag by the door, you grabbed your jacket and started toward the garage. But when you saw your car keys, you frowned.

The bus schedule was unreliable at this hour, and taking the car felt like a hassle. Your gaze drifted to the motorcycle in the corner—a sleek, black machine that hadn't been touched in months. Your chest tightened. The sight of it brought back memories you weren't ready to unpack. Nights spent speeding down empty streets, trying to outrun emotions you didn't want to face. Moments of reckless abandon that had cost you more than you wanted to admit. But tonight, practicality outweighed sentiment. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your helmet and swung a leg over the bike. The engine roared to life, the sound reverberating through the quiet garage.

When you arrived at your mom's house, the familiar warmth of the porch light greeted you. It was comforting, in a way that made your chest ache. But just as you were about to head inside, your phone buzzed with another notification. Mingyu had posted something on X—formerly Twitter—and tagged you. Against your better judgment, you opened the app. There it was: a group photo from last night's event. Mingyu had captioned it, "Last night was one for the books. Kitsunya, you killed it." Killed it? You wanted to scream. If by "killed it," he meant your dignity, then sure. Perfect phrasing. As if that wasn't enough, Seungkwan had chimed in with a reply: @/pledis_boos: Killed it?? She was on another planet with all that alcohol, LMAO. Your blood pressure skyrocketed. Of course, the chaos didn't end there. Your Discord server was in shambles with nonstop teasing:

[#general] min9yu: Streaming hangover queennn ho5hi_kwon: Who's taking bets she skips streaming again?? pledis_boos: After that karaoke performance? definitely. kitsunya: i hope you all die a miserable death

You clenched your teeth, heat flooding your face. Slamming your phone shut, you muted the server before they could fire back. You were already frustrated beyond belief, and their antics weren't helping. Taking a deep breath, you shoved your phone into your pocket and turned your attention to the house. You were here for your mom, not for these idiots.

Stepping inside, the familiar scent of lavender and warm spices immediately wrapped around you. It was as though time had stopped in this house. The same photos lined the walls, the same throw blanket draped over the couch. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lifted. "Sweetie?" your mom called from the kitchen. "Yeah, it's me!" you replied, slipping off your shoes and making your way toward her. She was seated at the kitchen table, a teapot in front of her and her usual serene smile on her face. "You didn't have to come all this way." "Of course I did," you said, leaning down to hug her. "How are you feeling?" "Better, now that you're here." Her words were simple, but they hit you hard. No matter how chaotic your life felt, being here always reminded you of what mattered most. For the first time all day, you allowed yourself to breathe. You sat down beside her, letting the conversation flow easily, her calm presence grounding you. Maybe the rest of the world could wait. For now, you were just her child, sitting at the kitchen table, finding solace in the only place that had always felt like home.

The hum of the studio buzzed around you as you took a long sip of your coffee, letting the warm bitterness steady your nerves after dealing with the overly flirtatious model. His incessant chatter had been more of a hindrance than a distraction, dragging out a task that should've taken half the time.

You needed a moment to breathe, so you leaned against the far counter, watching the set come to life as photographers, assistants, and models swarmed like bees.

Your brief peace was interrupted by the chime of your phone. A notification lit up the screen, and your heart sank as you saw it was from X. Another tag. Another random mention. You opened it, eyebrows knitting together as you read the tweet. @/kitsunya is lowkey hacking, I've watched her gameplay on her streams. Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you hesitated before clicking the attached video. It was a screen recording of someone playing League of Legends, supposedly you. The movements in the video were eerily familiar to your own, down to the champion choices and gameplay style. But something felt... off. The clip showed a flawless streak of kills and maneuvers you didn't recognize. At one point, the screen glitched, a strange overlay flashing briefly—something that screamed "hacking" to anyone who didn't know better. "That's not me," you muttered, the words a mix of disbelief and annoyance. Your fingers swiped down to the comments, and your heart sank further at the sea of responses.

- "She's so fake. always knew she was too good to be true" - "Imagine trying this hard to be relevant. Cringe." - "cancel her, wtf."

You bit the inside of your cheek, scrolling further to find a glimmer of reason among the mob.

- This doesn't even look like her gameplay. I've watched all her streams—this never happened. - "Bro, this is so edited. Look at the glitching when has she ever used a cheat?" - "She's bad at LOL sometimes, lol"

A small, bitter laugh escaped you at the last comment. The defender wasn't wrong. If anything, your League skills were average at best. Shutting your phone, you exhaled slowly. This wasn't the first time someone had tried to drag your name into some petty drama, but this? Accusations of hacking? That was new—and exhausting.

Calm. Professional. Handle it later, you told yourself. Your hands tightened around your coffee cup, knuckles whitening.

The scandal didn't disappear as quickly as you'd hoped. By the time you wrapped up at the studio, your socials were flooded. Notifications pinged relentlessly, and your Discord server wasn't any quieter. Mingyu and Seungkwan, of course, had chimed in.

[#general] min9yu: Saw the scandal. Want me to 'accidentally' leak your bad League stats? Clear your name instantly. pledis_boos: Fr tho, why would they say hacking when you literally suck at dodging skill shots kitsunya: shut up

You slammed your phone into your bag, groaning as you walked toward your parked motorcycle. Their teasing was harmless, but the noise around the whole situation was eating at you.

You didn't even realize how tense you were until your phone buzzed again—this time, a DM from Wonwoo.

everyone_woo: Saw the video. Want me to handle it?

You blinked at the message, unsure how to feel. Wonwoo wasn't exactly warm—his jokes often toed the line of annoyance—but he wasn't a liar either.

kitsunya: handle it how? everyone_woo: Show proof it's fake. Or just flame them in the server. Your pick.

You rolled your eyes. The image of Wonwoo in your server flaming trolls was ridiculous—and oddly tempting.

kitsunya: thanks, but ive got this everyone_woo: Sure. Just try not to cry about it on stream later.

You glared at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard as your blood boiled.

kitsunya: fuck you, jeon.

The typing bubble popped up immediately.

everyone_woo: You wish.

You groaned, shoving your phone back into your bag as you straddled your motorcycle. The engine roared to life, drowning out your spiraling thoughts for a moment.

Focus on fixing this later, you told yourself again. But as you sped through the streets, the frustration churned in your chest, mixing with a spark of determination.

Whoever thought they could drag you down with a cheap, fake video clearly underestimated you. And if Wonwoo and the others had their way, they'd probably make sure the trolls regretted it too.

You didn't know what the next stream would bring, but one thing was clear—you weren't going to let this slide.

As the hours dragged on, the noise surrounding the scandal only grew louder. You had tried ignoring it, but your notifications were relentless. Your phone buzzed with messages from fans, haters, and even a few friends teasing you. After scrolling through the endless comments, you decided enough was enough.

Opening X, you navigated to the original post causing the uproar. The video was still playing, and the comments section was an absolute battlefield. Some were trashing you, while others valiantly defended your honor. You smirked to yourself.

With a deep breath, you typed your response. Calm, composed, with a pinch of playful sass—your signature style.

@/kitsunya: Wow, I didn't realize I got a skill boost overnight. Wish I had this kind of gameplay in real life. But hey, next time you edit, try not to glitch the screen, it's giving 'rookie hacker.' 🥰 Stay safe, everyone! 💕

You hit post and shut your phone off with a smirk. That should shut them up for now.

Later that evening, you fired up your stream. The usual intro music played, and the chat instantly exploded.

Chat: - "OMG, she's here!!! 🔥" - "HANDLE THEM!" - "say the word and we'll roast them for you!" - "So you're a 'hacker' now, huh? XD"

You leaned back in your chair, your trademark fox ears headband perched snugly on your head. "Alright, alright," you began, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Let's address the elephant in the room—or, in this case, the poorly edited League of Legends gameplay."

The chat erupted with laughter emojis.

"First of all," you continued, "if you're going to accuse someone of hacking, at least make the footage look convincing. I mean, come on! That glitch was so bad, even my grandma would've caught it. And she doesn't even know what a mouse is, okay?"

Your playful tone had the chat spamming "LOL" and "QUEEN ENERGY."—You've never really liked being called that (queen), it was a bit cringe but if that's what your fans would call you, you'll gladly let them be. Besides, they just knew how you hated it, too.

You quickly pulled up the clip in question, dissecting it for your viewers. "Look at this," you said, pointing out the glaring inconsistencies. "That's not even my interface. I use a custom overlay, so nice try, but not quite. And these moves? Yeah, I wish I was that good, but y'all know I play like a bronze-tier gremlin on most days."

- "NOT THE GREMLIN LMAOO" - "She's roasting herself and the haters at the same time 💀" - "Petition to make 'bronze-tier gremlin' a merch line."

You shrugged, smirking at the chaos you'd stirred. "Anyway, to the person who made this... next time, put some actual effort into your smear campaign. This was embarrassing—for you, not me." You ended the segment with a wink before transitioning to your usual gameplay.

Throughout the stream, you maintained your signature IDGAF attitude, brushing off the drama like dust on your shoulder. As the games went on, the chat buzzed with renewed energy, rallying behind you with jokes and support.

By the time you ended the stream, you felt lighter. The haters had nothing on you, and your fans? They reminded you why you kept doing this in the first place.

As you signed off, you left one final remark. "To anyone still doubting me, feel free to stick around. You might just learn what real gameplay looks like. And to my fans—love you guys. Kitsunya out."

With that, you clicked the end-stream button, a triumphant grin spreading across your face. Let the haters try again. They'd never win against you.

The aftermath of the "hacker" scandal didn't deter you—it only made you sharper. Your streams saw a spike in viewers, curious to witness the alleged "cheater" in action. Meanwhile, your usual gaming circle hadn't changed much, except for one small, persistent annoyance: Wonwoo.

It started innocently enough during a group stream with Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Wonwoo. You were all queued for a round of Valorant, and as the match loaded, Seungkwan's voice filled the mic.

"Alright, team, let's get this W. Kitsunya, you got my back, right?"

"Always, Boo," you replied smoothly, earning a groan from Mingyu.

"Can you two not flirt on comms?" Mingyu teased.

"Jealous, Mingyu?" you shot back. "Don't worry, you can watch and learn how it's done."

But before Mingyu could retort, Wonwoo's dry voice cut in. "Can we focus on the game instead of this middle school banter? Some of us actually want to win."

"Relax, Jeon," you quipped. "You'll still bottom frag no matter how focused you are."

The chat exploded with laughing emojis and "OOF" comments as Seungkwan cackled. "Oh my god, she really said that!"

"Funny," Wonwoo replied evenly, his tone calm but with a hint of sharpness. "At least I don't need an entire fanbase hyping me up to stay relevant."

The mood shifted slightly. Mingyu let out a low whistle, and Seungkwan muttered, "Yikes, is it getting warm in here, or is that just me?"

Your grip on your mouse tightened. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said, feigning sweetness. "Is my relevance bothering you, Jeon? Don't worry, I'm sure someone out there appreciates your minimalist personality."

Wonwoo chuckled darkly. "Big words for someone who spent the last week crying over an edited gameplay clip."

"Okay, timeout!" Mingyu cut in. "Can we save the passive-aggressive flirting for later? We've got a match to lose."

"I'm not flirting," you and Wonwoo said simultaneously, which only made Seungkwan laugh harder.

Chat: - "WHY DOES THIS FEEL LIKE A KDRAMA?" - "Enemies to lovers speedrun when???" - "Wonwoo is spicy tonight, ngl"

As the matches continued, the banter between you and Wonwoo escalated. When you missed a critical shot, he chimed in, "Nice aim. Were you aiming at the sky for inspiration?"

"Bold of you to assume you'd know anything about aim," you shot back after watching him miss an easy shot of his own.

Seungkwan and Mingyu had a field day moderating the chaos.

"Guys, if you kill each other, can I have your streaming setups?" Mingyu joked, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Not unless you learn how to aim first," you and Wonwoo snapped in unison, which made everyone lose it.

Chat: - "They're SO ANNOYING TO EACH OTHER I LOVE IT." - "Can someone clip this toxic energy? I'm obsessed." - "seungkwan is the only one holding this team together lol."

After the stream ended, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. Fighting with Wonwoo was mentally exhausting, but you had to admit—your streams were a hit whenever he was around. The audience loved the dynamic, and a small part of you found it... entertaining, in a frustrating way.

Still, you were determined not to lose to him, whether it was in gameplay or banter. If Wonwoo wanted a war, you were more than ready to bring it.

Little did you know, Wonwoo was thinking the exact same thing.

Absolutely, the unresolved tension between Jeonghan and MC is still lingering in the background, simmering beneath all the chaos of gaming streams and playful (or not-so-playful) fights with Wonwoo. Here's how that thread can weave into the story while keeping it naturally integrated:

The banter between you and Wonwoo was in full swing during a round of Valorant. Jeonghan, ever the observer, stayed quiet for most of the game, only chiming in occasionally with sarcastic one-liners that set the group laughing.

However, every so often, you caught him cutting in with comments that felt pointed, though they were disguised under his usual casual tone.

For instance, when you accidentally botched a round by peeking too early, Jeonghan couldn't resist.

"You're usually so composed, Kitsunya," he remarked, voice smooth. "Guess all this stress is getting to you."

Your throat tightened for a moment, but you didn't let it show. "Or maybe it's because I'm carrying half of this team. Can't relate, though—I wouldn't know what it's like to sit back and let everyone else do the work."

Mingyu wheezed into the mic. "Oh my god, she went there."

Jeonghan only chuckled. "I must have touched a nerve. Relax, it's just a game, sweetheart."

The word hung heavy in the air, and the chat exploded.

Chat: - "sweetheart? HELLO???" - "Did anyone else feel that dagger???" - "Kitsunya is DONE WITH HIM LMAO."

You stayed professional, though your grip on your mouse tightened. "Relax? I'm so relaxed," you shot back. "It's not like I'm the one stalking people's streams to stir the pot."

The silence that followed was loud. Wonwoo laughed softly. "Alright, that was savage."

Jeonghan let out an amused hum but didn't respond directly. His lack of a comeback only added fuel to the tension.

You ended the stream with your usual closing remarks, ignoring the way your heart still raced from Jeonghan's presence. The moment you were offline, you leaned back in your chair, letting out a groan of frustration.

Why was he still getting under your skin? Why couldn't you just forget what happened? It wasn't like he'd even acknowledged it outside of these subtle, cutting moments.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. A message from Jeonghan:

Jeonghan: You've been sharper lately. Don't let it ruin your aim.

You stared at the text, unsure whether to laugh, scream, or throw your phone out the window. Instead, you settled on typing a curt reply:

You: thanks for the unsolicited advice, boss. ill try not to let your words haunt me.

You hesitated before hitting send. Was that too much? Too little? The overthinking was exhausting.

No reply came. Typical.

Jeonghan continued to act as if nothing had ever happened. He still handed you ridiculous tasks—like picking up coffee from the other side of the city—but now, there was an added layer of... something. Whether it was tension or amusement, you couldn't tell. At one point, while delivering a report to him, you accidentally brushed past his desk. The proximity made your pulse quicken. Jeonghan looked up, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "Careful," he said smoothly. "You're spilling your coffee." You glanced down, realizing you'd almost tipped the cup in your hand. "Right. My bad." His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. "You're distracted. Anything on your mind?" You shot him a glare, but it lacked your usual fire. "Nope. Just trying to make sure you get your perfectly brewed coffee without having to lift a finger." Jeonghan hummed. "Good. Keep up the hard work, sweetheart." There it was again—that word. It set your teeth on edge, but you refused to let him see how it affected you. Instead, you plastered on your best fake smile and left his office without another word.

Jeonghan reclined in his sleek office chair, the dim glow of his second monitor lighting his face as he watched the stream playing out in front of him.

Seungcheol was supposed to be live, but the man was nowhere to be seen, and instead, Jeonghan found himself once again on your stream. He didn't know how or why he ended up there, but he wasn't about to click away now—not when you were in the middle of what seemed to be an increasingly fiery exchange with Wonwoo. "You call that a headshot, Kitsunya?" Wonwoo's voice cut through the audio, calm and sharp as always. "Maybe you should stick to being a cheerleader for the team." Your scoff came out quick and biting. "And maybe you should stick to solo play since clearly you don't know what teamwork means. What are you, allergic to assists?" The chat exploded with laughter and emotes, and Jeonghan couldn't help the faint smirk that tugged at his lips. You were quick, sharper than most, and he hated how entertaining it was to watch you put Wonwoo in his place. Wonwoo's response was dry, but there was a hint of amusement. "Big words for someone whose accuracy is about as consistent as Mingyu's cooking skills." "Oh, that's rich coming from the guy who got sniped by a bronze player last week," you shot back effortlessly, the grin evident in your tone. Jeonghan's jaw tightened. He should have closed the stream. He should have focused on his work. But instead, he found himself gripping the edge of his desk, irritation bubbling under the surface. Since when had you and Wonwoo gotten so... close? "Sweetheart, don't you think you're taking this roasting thing a little far?" Wonwoo said casually, the pet name clearly meant to get a rise out of you. You didn't skip a beat. "Don't call me sweetheart. I'm not your sidekick." Jeonghan's smirk vanished. He'd been calling you that for weeks now—using it as a way to get under your skin—but hearing it from Wonwoo suddenly made it feel... wrong. Why did it bother him so much?

Jeonghan sat in his office, staring blankly at the report in front of him. The words blurred together, meaningless against the din of his own thoughts. He clenched his jaw, shoving the papers aside as his mind betrayed him yet again, wandering back to the stream last night. To you and Wonwoo, bickering with that effortless chemistry that felt so... natural. Too natural.

The knock at the door startled him. He straightened, a carefully neutral expression slipping into place.

"Come in."

You entered, your movements brisk as you carried a stack of documents. "Here's the draft you asked for," you said, your tone cool.

Jeonghan's eyes lingered on you for a fraction longer than he intended. "Morning, sweetheart," he said, the words coming out smoother than he felt.

You froze for a split second before shooting him a glare. "Don't call me that."

He smirked, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. "Why not? You didn't seem to mind when Wonwoo called you that last night."

You blinked, confusion flickering in your expression before it hardened into annoyance. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he replied, his tone calm but biting.

"Jeonghan," you snapped, crossing your arms as you stared him down. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" He tilted his head, feigning nonchalance. "I don't have one. Just an observation. You looked... comfortable with him."

The tension in the room thickened, but you didn't back down. "So what if I was? Are you keeping tabs on me now?"

His smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of something darker, something raw. "I don't need to keep tabs. It's obvious."

You stared at him, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. "Obvious?"

"You're distracted," he said, his voice softer now but no less cutting. "Is it him?"

Something inside you snapped. "If you have something to say, Jeonghan, say it. Stop with the mind games."

His expression flickered—anger, frustration, guilt?—before it settled into something unreadable. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as he looked at you with a rare vulnerability. "You've changed," he murmured, almost to himself. "You're different around him."

You inhaled sharply, his words hitting deeper than you wanted to admit. "Don't act like you care," you said, your voice shaking with suppressed emotion.

His eyes darkened. "And what if I do?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself at a loss. Finally, you turned on your heel, your heart pounding as you headed for the door.

"You kissed me," his voice stopped you cold, low and quiet but filled with an edge that cut through the air. "And then... you act like it meant nothing."

You froze, your hand hovering over the doorknob. When you turned back to him, your eyes were blazing. "You think I don't know that? You've been shutting me out ever since, Jeonghan. So don't you dare act like I'm the one who walked away first."

The words hung between you like a fragile thread, taut and trembling.

Jeonghan stared at you, his carefully crafted mask crumbling. "Maybe I thought it would be easier," he admitted, his voice rough. "If I pushed you away. If I let you go."

Your throat tightened, but you refused to let him see you falter. "Well, congratulations. It worked."

Before he could respond, you turned and walked out, slamming the door behind you.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, his head tipping back as he stared at the ceiling. His chest felt heavy, his thoughts a mess of regret and longing.

What the hell am I doing?

He was the one crossing that barrier, when he has been pushing you away on the past few weeks. Over and over again.  

The week had been chaotic, as usual. Between balancing work, streams, and trying to ignore the mess of emotions that had been haunting you since that damn drunken kiss incident with Jeonghan, you barely had time to breathe. Friday rolled around, and you were finally looking forward to a weekend of peace—just you, your PC, and maybe a new game to dive into.

That was the plan, at least, until Seungcheol called you earlier that week.

Monday

"Hey," his voice was casual, but you could hear the grin behind it. "I'm throwing a party this weekend. Just a small thing, you know, close friends and streamers. You in?" You hesitated, already knowing what your answer would be. "Thanks for the invite, Seungcheol, but I've got plans this weekend. Sorry." "Come on," he replied smoothly. "It's been a while since we all hung out. You could use a little break, don't you think?" "No can do," you said firmly, giving a polite laugh to soften the rejection. "But have fun." He didn't push further, just chuckled and left it at that. You thought that would be the end of it. You thought wrong.

That should've been the end of it.

It wasn't.

By the time Wednesday came around, Seungkwan and Hoshi had picked up the torch where Seungcheol had left off.

Wednesday  

The VC comms were alive with chatter as you queued up for another Overwatch match.

"Okay, but seriously," Seungkwan's voice broke through the din, incredulous and a little too loud in your headset. "Why aren't you coming to the party?"

"Yeah," Hoshi chimed in, just as exasperated. "What's so important that you're ditching us?"

You groaned, adjusting your mic as you loaded into the game. "I told you. I have plans."

"Plans to do what? Sit at home?" Seungkwan asked, disbelief coloring every word.

"And what's wrong with that?" you shot back, your tone clipped as you lined up a headshot on an enemy.

"It's antisocial, that's what," Hoshi said, as though he'd just diagnosed you with some grave illness.

"You're turning into Wonwoo," Seungkwan added, laughing.

"Leave me out of this," Wonwoo's voice cut in dryly, though you could hear the faintest hint of amusement.

"Listen," you interrupted, your patience thinning. "I've already said no, like, a million times. Can we drop it?"

But they didn't drop it. Of course, they didn't.

Thursday

By the next evening, their campaign of peer pressure had reached ridiculous heights.

You were halfway through a stream, your chat buzzing with energy, when Seungkwan's voice came through the VC again.

"Alright, hear me out," he began, his tone taking on that wheedling edge that set your teeth on edge. "What if we make a deal?"

"No," you said flatly, sniping an enemy with practiced precision.

"You didn't even hear the deal!" Hoshi whined, sounding genuinely offended.

"I don't need to," you retorted, eyes locked on the game. "The answer's still no."

"Okay, fine," Seungkwan said dramatically, as though he were deeply wounded. "Then I guess we'll just spend the whole party talking about how lame you are for not showing up."

"Seriously?" you muttered, incredulous.

"And maybe," Hoshi chimed in, "we'll tell everyone about that time you ulted yourself into a wall."

"Will you shut the fuck up?" you snapped, finally losing your cool.

"Fine," Seungkwan relented eventually, though the grin in his tone was unmistakable. "But we're not done with you yet."

In the middle of your stream that evening, as you queued for an Overwatch match, their voices rang out over the VC comms. "Okay, but like, seriously, why aren't you coming to the party?" Seungkwan started, his tone incredulous. "Yeah, what's so important that you're ditching us?" Hoshi chimed in, sounding equally offended. You groaned, adjusting your headset as you focused on loading into the game. "I told you, I have plans." "Plans to do what? Sit at home and stream?" Seungkwan pressed. "And what's wrong with that?" you shot back, your tone clipped. "It's antisocial, that's what," Hoshi said. "You're turning into Wonwoo." "Hey, leave me out of this," Wonwoo's voice cut in from the other side of the comms, calm but with a hint of annoyance. "Listen," you interrupted, trying to steer the conversation away. "I've already said no, like, a million times. Can we drop it?" But they wouldn't let up.

Thursday Night By the next night, their persistence had reached new heights. As you streamed another late-night session of Overwatch, the VC comms lit up once again with Seungkwan and Hoshi's relentless chatter. "Okay, hear me out," Seungkwan started, his voice taking on a wheedling tone. "What if we make a deal?" "Absolutely not," you replied instantly, sniping an enemy on-screen with precision. "You didn't even hear the deal," Hoshi whined. "Don't need to," you said, eyes locked on the game. "The answer's still no." "Fine," Seungkwan said dramatically. "Then I guess we'll just spend the whole party talking about how lame you are for not showing up." "Seriously?" you muttered, your tone dripping with disbelief. "And maybe we'll tell everyone about that one time you accidentally ulted yourself into a wall," Hoshi added with a snicker. "Will you two *shut the fuck up*?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin. "It's been three fucking days of this. Take a hint." The chat lit up with laughter and emotes as your viewers enjoyed the chaos.

Chat Highlights: - "LMAOOO THEY'RE SO RELENTLESS 💀" - "Poor Kitsunya can't catch a break." - "I stan the peer pressure."

"Fine, fine," Seungkwan said finally, though his tone suggested he wasn't done. But for the rest of the night, they managed to keep the nagging to a minimum—at least, until the match ended.

Friday Morning

You woke up to your phone vibrating on your nightstand.

[#general] - 8:13 AM pledis_boos: [image attached of your Overwatch avatar] Look at this, Hoshi. Doesn't this remind you of someone? ho5hi_kwon: Yeah, someone who doesn't know how to have fun. pledis_boos: Right??? ho5hi_kwon: Definitely not naming names though.

You groaned, burying your face in your pillow before tossing your phone aside.

DM from [fuckass bitch dickhead] - 8:30 AM  Wonwoo: You're coming to the party, right?

You blinked at the screen, caught completely off guard. Wonwoo never texted first unless it was something gaming-related or directly relevant to a stream.

You: why do you care?

It took him a full minute to reply, which in Wonwoo time meant he was probably rolling his eyes at your response

Wonwoo: I don't. Just figured someone should ask before Seungkwan harasses you into blocking him. You: hes not that bad Wonwoo:  Don't lie to yourself. I heard him last night practically begging you to show up. It was embarrassing. For you. You: why are you bringing this up anyway? didnt peg you as the party type. Wonwoo: I'm not

You waited, watching the three dots pop up, disappear, and then pop up again before his next message finally came through.

Wonwoo: I just think it'd be funny watching you try to survive a party without gamer brain kicking in. Bet you'd get the itch to stream mid-conversation and ditch. You: are you serious right now? Wonwoo: Completely. You: wonwoo i swear to god  Wonwoo: What? Did I hit a nerve? Can't handle the idea of touching grass for once? You: if this is your idea of convincing me its not working fucker Wonwoo: Good, because I don't care if you go or not. You: THEN WHY ARE WE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION???" Wonwoo: Because it's fun annoying you. Isn't that what friends are for? You: i fucking hate you you should just die Wonwoo: No, you don't

You glared at your screen, scrolling through your options for a witty comeback.

Wonwoo: Look, if it's about him, don't let it stop you. Your fingers froze mid-type. You: what are you talking about Wonwoo: Don't play dumb. You: im not Wonwoo: Sure. Anyway, just saying—if you're scared of seeing Jeonghan, you should just suck it up. You can always leave early if it gets awkward.

Your stomach churned at the mention of his name. So Wonwoo noticed? He's always been perceptive.

You: youre insufferable Wonwoo: I try. So, see you at the party? You: still not going :p Wonwoo: Liar.

And just like that, he went offline, leaving you with nothing but your reflection in the black mirror of your phone screen and the uncomfortable knot tightening in your chest.

By noon, after hours of fighting with yourself—and your growing suspicion that Wonwoo might actually have a point—you gave in.

DM to Seungcheol - 12:47 PM You: fine. ill stop by for a bit Seungcheol: Knew you'd come around. See you there.

You sighed, already dreading what you'd gotten yourself into.  

The Party - 8:30 PM

You weren't sure why you let yourself be talked into this. The thrum of music greeted you as soon as you stepped into the lavish apartment Seungcheol had rented for the evening. It reeked of overpriced cologne, faint perfume, and an energy you couldn't immediately name but recognized as too much.

Seungkwan was the first to spot you.

"YOU CAME!" he shouted, practically launching himself at you. He'd always been the overly enthusiastic type, but tonight, his excitement seemed to border on hysteria. "I knew you'd show up! You look so cute—who are you trying to impress?"

"No one," you muttered, brushing him off with a half-smile. "I'm here because I promised Seungcheol. Don't get weird about it."

"Sure, sure," Seungkwan replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He glanced over your shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. "By the way, guess who's already here."

You kept your expression neutral. "Who?"

"Jeonghan," he whispered, his voice practically dripping with scandal. "And some girl."

Of course.

You scanned the room, your eyes immediately landing on him. Jeonghan stood near the bar, drink in hand, with a girl perched close, leaning into his space like she belonged there. He looked effortlessly put together in a dark button-up, his signature smirk in place as he responded to something she said.

"Why do you even care?" Seungkwan teased, following your gaze. "Wait. Don't tell me—"

"I don't," you cut him off, turning away sharply. "I need a drink."

Seungkwan giggled, but he let you go. You made your way to the kitchen. The faint sound of laughter and conversations faded as you poured yourself a drink and leaned against the counter, hoping no one would bother you.

"Called it."

The voice came from behind you.

You didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Wonwoo," you sighed, turning just enough to glare at him. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his dark hoodie and jeans making him look out of place among the more dressed-up crowd.

"What?" he asked, sipping his drink. "You're here, aren't you?"

"Against my better judgment," you muttered.

Wonwoo raised a brow. "And yet, here you are, pretending you're not dying to check if anyone's noticed you."

Your cheeks heated. "I wasn't—"

"Save it," he interrupted, smirking. "You're bad at lying."

You rolled your eyes, taking a long sip of your drink. "Why are you even here? Didn't think parties were your thing."

"They're not," he said, shrugging. "But someone's gotta keep you from self-destructing."

"Gee, thanks," you deadpanned.

"You're welcome."

Later That Night

You thought you were doing a decent job of avoiding Jeonghan until he appeared out of nowhere, stepping into your path as you tried to slip away from the main room.

"Leaving already?" His voice was smooth, a little too casual, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something sharper.

You froze. "Jeonghan."

He tilted his head, studying you. "Didn't think I'd see you here."

"Didn't think you'd care."

"Touché." His lips curled into a faint smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You've been avoiding me."

"I've been busy."

"Busy avoiding me?"

You glared at him. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Maybe." He stepped closer, his gaze dropping to the drink in your hand before returning to your face. "Someone thinks you're trying to prove a point by showing up tonight."

"Let them think whatever they want," you said, your tone colder than you intended.

Jeonghan smirked. "So it's not about her?"

"Not everything is about her," you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. "And if you're just here to play games, don't bother. I'm not in the mood."

For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned in, his voice dropping low.

"You think you know the game we're playing," he murmured, "but you don't. Not yet."

Before you could respond, he stepped back, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

From across the room, you caught Wonwoo watching, his expression unreadable.

You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every time you turned your head, it felt like someone's gaze lingered a second too long—whether it was Jeonghan's cryptic smirks or Wonwoo's occasional glances, like he was trying to piece something together.

But you didn't have time for either of them. Not tonight.

Not until Wonwoo found you again.

"Drinking alone?" he teased, appearing in the hallway where you'd gone to catch your breath.

You scowled at him. "Are you stalking me now?"

"No," he said easily, leaning against the wall like he belonged there. "Just thought I'd find you sulking somewhere. You're predictable."

"And you're annoying," you shot back.

"Funny. Didn't stop you from talking to me."

You opened your mouth to retort, but he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a quieter, almost teasing tone. "Let me guess. He said something to piss you off."

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb," he said, tilting his head toward the party behind you. "Jeonghan. You've been dodging him all night, but I saw the way you tensed up earlier."

You swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of how close he was. "It's none of your business."

"I know," he said, his gaze sharp, searching. "But it's entertaining. Watching you flinch every time he's near."

"Go to hell, Wonwoo," you muttered, turning away.

You barely made it two steps before his hand caught your wrist.

"Let go," you hissed, yanking your arm, but he didn't budge.

"Why do you let him get to you like this?" Wonwoo asked, his voice calm but cutting.

"He doesn't," you snapped, though even you didn't believe it.

Wonwoo's grip loosened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he smirked. "You're such a bad liar."

Something about the way he said it—like he knew exactly which buttons to push—made you snap.

You shoved him, hard enough to make him stumble back a step. "Why do you care, huh? You don't even like me."

"You're right," he said, recovering quickly, his smirk widening. "I don't. But that doesn't mean I can't have fun messing with you."

"Oh, screw you—"

Before you could finish, he closed the gap between you, his hand cupping your jaw as he kissed you.

It wasn't gentle.

It was heated, rough, and full of the frustration you both seemed to carry whenever you were around each other.

You didn't even realize you'd kissed him back until your back hit the wall, his hands on your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair.

The kiss was deep, his tongue licking at your bottom lip, seeking for entrance to your mouth. Without even thinking to process things, your mouth responded almost too immediately while his tongue explored yours to a rhythm.

He kissed you good, and you can't even deny it right now. Your heart was beating fast—faster than you'd ever imagine. 

Make-out sessions like this was never a problem to you, but why are you feeling something different now? 

This damned man. 

And just like that, you were out of breath. With Wonwoo leaning his face closer as if he doesn't want you to get away just yet, you didn't mind. You were too into the kiss that you weren't even trying to pull away.

The kiss was messy, electric, and entirely unexpected.

"Wonwoo," you managed to gasp when he pulled back just enough to let you breathe. Your lips glossed with both of your salivas. 

"What?" he murmured, his voice low, his lips brushing yours. His eyes locked to yours then dropped to your swollen, plumped lips. He looked at you differently—at least now.

"This—" You shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts. "This doesn't mean anything."

"Obviously," he said, smirking again. "But that didn't stop you, did it?"

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, silencing whatever protest you might've had.

Wonwoo pulled you into a nearby room—thank god it was even vacant. The whole time, he didn't even lean away from the kiss. He kissed you as if he was trying to swallow you whole. But then again, it was hot as hell.

"So fucking sweet," Wonwoo thought to himself as he carries you on the hips and places you on the nearby table. He stood in between your legs.

Screw it, you can't even think right now—not when his hands keep roaming around your hips. It sent a shiver to your spine. It's like his hands were touching you through your dress. Is that even possible?

The way your tongues swirled, entangling to each other was felt incredibly good. 

"So soft," he murmured in between the kiss. And he's doing it again. His head kept pushing towards you when you're not even trying to move away. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, while your legs found itself encircling his waist. You swore you can feel Wonwoo's smirk that always made you want to punch him in the guts for. But now, you find it attractive for once.

Feeling his bulge like this, you're soaked. Fuck, you're so wet it felt like you were pissing through your underwear. It's been like this since he placed you on the damned table.

After what felt like an eternity, Wonwoo pulled away for you to catch your breath—partly to catch his breath. He stared at you, his eyes moving to your already swollen lips glistened with his saliva while you panted crazily.

"You're wet." Shit. He noticed? Yeah. He noticed

You couldn't reply. It's like the words got stuck in your throat. You wanted to retort. But it'll all be useless.

"...Fuck you." Really? That's the best you can say? You earned a smug scoff from Wonwoo that's for sure.

He just stared at you with a somehow teasing look on his face. But you were too embarrassed to even speak again. So why the fuck did you speak again. 

"H- help me..." You mumbled, eyes turning away and cheeks heating up.

Wonwoo's smirk widened, but he raised a brow, looking at you with innocence as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Help you with what, exactly?" He knew exactly where to push your buttons.

"Such a fucking tease," you muttered under your breath. He knew that. 

"I can't help you if I don't know what it is."

"F- Fuck me.. Wonwoo." Your words came out in a stumble. You went from fuck you to fuck me, that's a revolution.

Wonwoo chuckled, but then his gaze darkened. You couldn't quite point what is. A look of lust? Or is he teasing the fuck out of you again? "Come again?" 

"Wonwoo, please.." You sighed, head dropping to his shoulder with frustration. You're so wet you want to start touching yourself. It's like your pussy is on damn fire. 

But Wonwoo won't budge until you state exactly what you're asking for.

The heat of your body radiates his when his lips found your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin that sent electric waves through your body. That was your final test. 

Your hand moved under your dress and you started rubbing your wet clit through your underwear. 

Wonwoo leaned back just a little, looking down at you with a smirk on his lips. You swore you'd kick his balls after this.

Your fingers moved under your underwear and that's when you insert one finger in. You held back the moan, biting your lower lip.

"Shameless slut. That's hot," he says kneeling down as he looked up at you with the same gaze he had earlier. "Need help?"

"P-please..." You replied, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were so frustrated you can punch his damn handsome face right now. 

"You're really ruined." He unzips your dress from the back and removed it. Fuck he found your bra really cute. He spread your thighs open before he starts working on it, his lean fingers entering your slippery, glossed pussy. "What the fuck? It swallowed right in, babe." You couldn't tell if the pet name was to annoy you or what. Doesn't matter, cause your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The same fingers he used for typing on his keyboard were inside you right now. 

This shit feels too good to be true. 

"So wet for me, huh?" he started moving his fingers deeper. You were so wet that his finger slipped in your pussy almost too easily. 

Wonwoo reached that one spongy texture. "Fuckk.....!" You moaned out, panting crazily.

His fingers fucked your pussy so well with his thumb running circles on your clit, you squirted. He's moving his fingers in and out of you so fast that you almost reached the depths of heaven. 

You came. His hand soaked with your fluids. He pulled out his fingers and licked it. "So pretty seeing you like this. You're sweet, Kitsunya."

Before you can even get back from pleasure, his head was in between your thighs, already licking your pussy clean. And he received a harmonious moans out of you. He loved the sounds you made. He can listen to it all day.

Then his tongue entered your pussy. 

"Wonnie... S- so good.. Don't stop." You panted, the sudden nickname making him throbbing hard below. While your fingers entangling through his soft locks, pulling his head so he could reach deeper. And then you came again, on his face, moaning like crazy.

He licked all your fluids before pulling away, licking his lips as he stood up again to look down at you.

"You taste so fucking sweet." He held your chin—making you look up at him as he captures your lips again, tasting yourself. 

Wonwoo was devouring you at this point. His tongue working in your mouth. While his hand went to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him, and the other already unclipping your bra.

Then he carried you onto the bed, dropping you on the mattress without pulling away. He started taking his hoodie off while you messily unzips his pants. He helped you pull it down. 

He was fucking huge. You knew it already when you felt his bulge earlier, but didn't imagine a length like this.

He pulled away, his cock throbbing with pre-cum. You stared at him, panting, cheeks fucking red.

"Safe word?" He asked, his hands massaging your breasts. You forgot to think for a moment.

"Fox." You replied and he smirked. 

With that settled, he spread your legs open—leaning in between your things. His fingers prepping your pussy.

Once wide enough, his tip was placed on the entrance of your pussy, rubbing your clit. he was leaking already.

"F- fuck me rough, Wonwoo." You said, begging like you never usually do. 

And that was his last straw. He slammed his cock but entered you slowly, your moans filling the room. "So fucking tight, the hell?" 

"Y- you're too fucking big," you muffled, tears of pleasure running down at the stretch.

He pulled his cock and slammed it in you again, this time, it felt good it already reached your g-spot. He was huge.

After a few slow thrusts, Wonwoo felt you adjusting to the stretch, and that's when he started roughly fucking your pussy. You held onto him for your dear life, moaning loudly this time. 

"Your pussy is swallowing me so fucking well." He muttered, grunting when he felt your walls clenching around his cock. "Don't fucking cum until I say so."

He took it out before you can even come. You cried. 

Then just like that, he slammed his cock in you again—hardly that the sounds of your skin slapping to each other filled the room. 

He thrusted in and out so fast you were begging to cum with tears running down your cheeks at the frustration. 

"Wonwoo, please..!" You moaned out, head going back as your fingers dug onto the flesh of his shoulder. 

Wonwoo didn't stop entering you fastly, his hips moving crazily fast, his cock reaching your g-spot. "Don't fucking.." he grunted out. "..cum yet."

You squirted. You were sobbing, not because it hurt, but because it felt too good yet frustrating at the same time.

But the way he's ramming into your pussy was enough to cloud all the frustrations away. 

He shut you up when he captured your lips—tongue kissing you too well. He felt your walls clenching around him again. "Cum all over me, baby." 

"I'm cumming!" White fluids almost pushing his dick off. And not long after, he took out his cock and his hot load went all over your stomach. You were panting crazily, covering your face with your hands.

Wonwoo patted your head. He didn't call you names anymore either.

Being called "slut" never made sense to you. He didn't repeat it either.

You went in the shower first, your vagina and legs were so  sore you felt numb. And when you finally went out—the room smelled like sex and his faint cologne. You didn't look at him until he threw your dress to your face.

You glared at him, covering your body with the towel you were holding as Wonwoo enters the bathroom next.

In the bathroom, Wonwoo was still hard. He just couldn't help it. When you came out of the shower smelling good as fuck, shit... You were even prettier without make-up on. Thinking of it makes him want to fuck you again.

But now, he just had to settle back. This was nothing. And yet he's fucking his hand at the thought of you.

When Wonwoo emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, he looked entirely different. The stark simplicity of his black t-shirt and sweatpants did nothing to diminish how effortlessly good he looked. 

His glasses caught the faint light of the room as he fixed them, his expression unreadable as he walked toward the bed and sat at its edge, towel slung lazily over his shoulder.

"Jerk," you muttered under your breath—though not quite loud enough for it to sound like a challenge.

He arched an eyebrow at you, but said nothing. The silence stretched, the air between you heavy.

He looks hot. 

The thought crept in uninvited, but you shoved it down quickly, pretending to fiddle with the zipper at the back of your dress.

It wasn't cooperating.

Wonwoo noticed. He stood silently, his presence looming behind you. Without a word, he reached for the zipper, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulled it up smoothly. 

You caught his reflection in the mirror—the sharp lines of his face, the faint furrow of his brows, and the way his eyes lingered, just for a moment, before he let go.

"You didn't have to," you mumbled, your gaze dropping to the floor.

"I know," he replied simply, stepping back. His tone was devoid of sarcasm, yet it felt loaded with unspoken meaning.

He handed you an oversized jacket without waiting for you to ask. "Here."

You took it wordlessly, slipping one arm in, then the other, the fabric engulfing you like a shield. As you turned back to the mirror, fixing your makeup and on  attempting to dry your hair as quick as you can, you felt his eyes on you.

Your gaze flickered up to the mirror, catching him already staring.

He didn't look away.

Your cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, and you quickly broke eye contact, muttering something incoherent as you turned toward the door.

"Wait," Wonwoo said, his voice low, stopping you in your tracks.

You barely had time to react before he closed the distance between you, his hands bracing lightly on either side of the doorframe, trapping you.

"What?" you asked, your voice wavering more than you'd like.

He didn't answer right away. His gaze flickered over your face—your swollen lips, the faint color in your cheeks, the way your breath hitched as he leaned closer.

"Nothing," he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Just wanted to see if you'd leave without saying goodbye."

"I should've," you shot back, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice betrayed you.

"Maybe."

And then he kissed you again.

This time, it was slower, deliberate, as though he was testing just how far he could push you. His hands slid to your waist, tugging you closer, and you melted against him despite every voice in your head screaming at you to stop.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, lips tangled, the world outside fading into irrelevance. 

The kiss involved your tongues again, your head hitting the door behind you—while Wonwoo was pushing his head closer to you again. 

But eventually, reality crept back in.

"I—" you started, putting hands on his chest to push him slightly away just enough to catch your breath.

"Yeah," Wonwoo said, his voice equally quiet, though his smirk lingered.

You didn't bother finishing your sentence. Instead, you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding and your mind racing. 

The oversized jacket he'd given you hung loosely over your dress, a silent reminder of whatever had just happened.

The noise of the party hit you like a wall, jolting you back to your surroundings. You avoided eye contact with anyone as you wove through the crowd, heading for the kitchen in search of water—or an excuse to keep yourself busy.

But then you felt it.

A pair of eyes.

When you glanced up, there he was.

Jeonghan.

He stood near the bar, leaning casually against the counter, a drink in hand. His expression was unreadable, but the slight tilt of his head and the glint in his eyes told you he'd noticed something was different.

Your lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you turned on your heel and walked in the opposite direction, your pulse racing.

Wonwoo stayed behind, leaning lazily against the doorframe. His hair was still damp, his smirk a little too self-satisfied.

He watched the closed door for a moment longer before turning back toward the bed, dropping the towel onto the chair in the corner.

Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he checked the time.

A message popped up from Seungkwan in his DM.

Seungkwan: Bro, where tf are you? Jeonghan keeps asking about Kitsunya. Says she's acting weird. Did y'all fight or smth?

Wonwoo stared at the message, his smirk fading into something more contemplative.

"No," he murmured to himself, tossing his phone onto the same bed you two had sex on. "We didn't fight."

The party could wait. For now, he needed a moment to think—or to figure out why he'd let himself care.

You had barely taken a sip of water when a voice interrupted your solitude.

"Long night?"

You froze, clutching the glass tighter. Turning slowly, you met Jeonghan's gaze. He stood a few feet away, his usual confident demeanor wrapped around him like a second skin.

"What do you want?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

He stepped closer, his expression soft but his eyes sharp. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I don't follow."

Jeonghan tilted his head, studying you. "You're wearing someone else's jacket."

Your stomach dropped. "So?"

"So," he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile, "it's not like you to borrow things. Especially not from... whoever it is you've been sneaking around with tonight."

Your cheeks burned. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Jeonghan's tone was light, teasing, but his gaze pinned you in place. "You've been avoiding me all night. And now you're practically running from the room. It's not hard to connect the dots."

"Drop it, Jeonghan," you snapped, your voice low.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, stepping closer, he leaned down slightly so his face was level with yours.

"I will," he said softly, "when you stop looking like you've just been caught."

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he straightened and walked away, leaving you alone with the weight of his words.

Back in the room, Wonwoo debated rejoining the party. The chaos didn't appeal to him, but the lingering hum of your presence in the space did.

He'd kissed you twice.

Three times, if he counted the one that had blurred into more than just kissing.

And now, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

When he finally pushed himself off the bed and headed back into the main area, the atmosphere was heavier than before.

The music was loud, but the tension in the room was louder.

He spotted you almost immediately, standing near the kitchen entrance talking with Woozi. Jeonghan was a few feet away, talking to someone else, but his attention kept flicking to you.

Wonwoo's jaw tightened.

Woozi excused himself by patting you on the head. "I'll be over there with Hoshi if you ever need me."

And you hummed, nodding as he walked away.

"Having fun?"

Your eyes snapped to his, wide with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a party," he said dryly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What do you think?"

You glared at him, but before you could retort, Jeonghan appeared.

"Wonwoo," Jeonghan said smoothly, his smile as sharp as ever. "Didn't expect to see you hanging around here."

Wonwoo shrugged, his gaze steady. "Didn't expect to see you keeping tabs."

Jeonghan's smile didn't falter, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Just looking out for my friends."

The unspoken implication hung in the air, and you felt yourself shrinking under the weight of it.

"Sure you are," Wonwoo said, his tone light but his posture tense.

You couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to get some air," you muttered, brushing past them before either could stop you.

The cool night air hit you like a slap, cutting through the heat that had built up inside.

You leaned against the railing, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Running away again?"

You turned to find Wonwoo behind you, his hands in his pockets and his expression unreadable.

He's been around you since the night had started.

"Don't you have better things to do?" you asked, your voice sharp.

"Probably," he said, stepping closer. "But this seemed more interesting."

You sighed, turning back to the view. "What do you want, Wonwoo?"

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. "You tell me."

You frowned, glancing at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, his voice soft but firm, "you've been acting like I'm the problem when you're the one running circles around yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, stepping closer. "You're mad at Jeonghan, mad at me, and probably mad at yourself. But you're not doing anything about it. You're just... stuck."

His words hit a little too close to home, and you hated how right he sounded.

"So what?" you snapped. "What do you want me to do? Forget everything and pretend like it doesn't matter?"

"Maybe," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Or maybe just stop pretending you don't want something different." 

Your breath caught as he closed the distance between you.

How can he see right through you? it was unfair.

"Wonwoo—"

He kissed you again, cutting off whatever you were about to say. This kiss wasn't rough or teasing—it was deliberate, almost careful, like he was testing a boundary he wasn't sure he was allowed to cross.

You didn't even try to pull away. Allowing him like you both were a couple or something. 

This wasn't even anything to begin with. And that's exactly the problem.

His hand went to the back of your head, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with delicate kisses. 

You were kissing him back, deepening the kiss.

He tilted your head a little to the side to get a better angle of the kiss, while your hands hesitated if you should wrap it around him or not. 

Screw that, you did anyways. Something felt different. The same feeling hit you like a truck.

Maybe it's because you were in the public, making out with the same man for the past few hours. It was electric—the way he kissed you.

When he pulled back, his gaze searched yours.

"You can keep running," he said quietly. "But I'm not going to chase you."

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone under the stars.

He kept saying that, then why is he always around you? You sighed. 

This was an unknown feeling you never had when you were around him or his circle

When you returned to the party, Jeonghan was waiting.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his tone light but his gaze too sharp to be casual.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He stepped closer, his smile softening. "You know, if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

"Thanks," you said quietly, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice.

But as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd seen more than he was letting on.

And if he had, what would he do about it?

a/n: writing 10,000+ words every other day is not as easy as i thought. i feel stupid for even thinking that. balancing school, work, and life is exhausting tbh. BUT i hope i can make it up by updating a chapter ! might take me a while to write a new one but i swear i wont leave this work unfinished. (its exam week so yeah i've been really busy)

i will be posting (if i can by this week) the req actor jeonghan x actor reader i swear it'll be worth it. im battling writers block and due homeworks with my sucked up job.

if you want to be added to the taglist, reblog / comment on this post / teaser / part-time lover masterlist and you'll automatically be tagged on every chapter.

taglist: @asyre @choppedballoondetective @kpoppiesofinternet @syluslittlecrow @minhui896

@october-saturn @kpop-will-kill-me @elegantdevill1 @shidily @angel-ishere (thankyou for reblogging !)

[bluefunkybeats]

MEGUMI WHO ALWAYS LENDS THE PEN FROM HIS POCKET WHEN YOU BEGIN SIGNALLING FOR IT WITH BLINKING EYES TO DRAW DOODLES ON THE CAFÉ NAPKIN.

He pretends to have been begrudgingly coaxed into joining you, with a quiet huff as you unfold the napkin once to make more doodle room for him who’s across the other side of the table. Well, truth is he started carrying two pens; you get the nice one and he gets the smudgier one.

Megumi will get a start on jotting down little dogs, his nonchalant chibi face as a reaction when you draw a chibi you petting the dogs, and drawing anything else that comes to mind.

He rest his chin and his lower face on his hand, propped up by his left elbow on the table as he doodles, every so often letting his soft eyes meet your distracted face again to monitor that you’re both still in alignment or something.

His best napkin keepsake to this day was a little barn with a water lily pond lake outside and his demon dogs running ‘round, whom started as all-curved horizontal-hourglass-shaped nothings.

The word ‘keepsake’ would be correct in in Megumi’s case, since he keeps all these little napkins for himself, conveniently storing them in his pocket as he passes the bin to pretend he’s recycling that priceless piece of memorabilia, when truly he could never do such thing.

Oh, and if Yuuji and Kugisaki crash your date whilst you’re both entranced in your squiggles? Well, you’ll have to unfold the napkin twice more and scooch over to make more room in the booth.

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

@jilymicrofics august 5: coffee

There’s a knock at the door, but James keeps his eyes on the computer screen, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the keys as he scans the inventory sheet.

“Oi.”

James's brow furrows slightly. "Hang on."

“We’ve got a customer situation.”

James looks up, his eyes meeting Sirius's. Sirius stands in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space, knuckles still poised over the doorframe.

"What sort of customer situation?" James asks, his voice edged with impatience.

Sirius grins widely. “A mad bird sort.”

James scoffs, running a hand through his hair as he shifts his focus back to the computer. "Why can’t you deal with it?"

Sirius sighs dramatically and leans against the doorframe. “She’s stubborn. Insists on talking to the owner.”

With a huff, James pushes away from the desk, the chair rolling back with a squeak. He stands up, stretching his back, and makes no effort to hide his annoyance as he shoulders past Sirius. This was the one hour of the day he managed to sequester himself in the cramped back office to catch up on paperwork. Coffee shops don’t run themselves.

Sirius follows hot on James's heels as he navigates his way back to the counter, snickering at his shoulder. He narrowly misses a full-on collision as James comes to a dead stop upon seeing her.

Her. Because she’s here.

“She’s fit, huh?” Sirius smirks. “I mean, if you don’t want to deal with it, I suppose I could—”

“I’ve got it.”

Sirius doesn’t reply, just shaking his head knowingly. James can’t even be bothered, because he knows he’s a besotted fool, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, there you are,” she says as he walks over. Her eyes sweep shamelessly over him, and he feels a spark of that old adolescent pride. She’s stunning, with warm auburn hair cascading over her shoulders and striking green eyes that seem to burn as they lock onto his. “You’re the owner?”

“That’s me. How can I help you?”

“Well, I’ve heard great things about this place,” she says, eyes drifting briefly up to the menu board behind him, then right back to his eyes. 

“It’s… a great place,” James says lamely, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, clearly enjoying being noticed by him as much as he’s enjoying being noticed by her. She leans forward on the counter, her delicate fingers tapping lightly against the surface. James takes a small step back to put some distance between them, so he doesn’t do something really stupid.

“What’s the specialty?” she asks, her lips curling into a playful smile.

“I don’t usually make the drinks,” he confesses.

She lifts an eyebrow. “But you’ll make one for me?”

James glances around the shop, ensuring Sirius isn’t idling nearby and that there aren’t any customers waiting in the queue. The cozy café is alive with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversations, but the coast seems to be clear.

“You know,” he says, dropping his voice, “it’s pretty bold of you to come in here looking like that.”

She smirks, pleased. “Looking like what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that rubbish,” he says, scoffing. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I’m just a girl looking for a nice cup of coffee,” she says, shrugging. She pushes her hair over her shoulder in a fluid motion, her deep auburn locks catching the light. James’s eyes follow the movement, and when he looks back at her face, her knowing smirk tells him it’s what she intended all along.

“You’re lethal is what you are,” he mutters, then without turning, calls out, “Sirius!”

Almost immediately, Sirius appears, clearly having been eavesdropping. “Alright?”

“Make my wife a vanilla latte, yeah?”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius grumbles. “I hate it when you do this. Just for the record. It’s really terrible.”

“Extra vanilla, please, Padfoot,” Lily adds, her gaze still locked on James, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Learn to have foreplay like normal people, please,” Sirius sighs, glancing dully between the two of them, before heading to the espresso machine, muttering, “You two were supposed to get less weird when you got married.”

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 18: pet / word count: 572 cw: foul language and violent behavior

James doesn't easily get annoyed, but his biggest pet peeve is people who do not say hello when they arrive at a place, so every time it's his turn to be in charge of the till at the cafe where he works, he struggles to control the twitch in his eye. When the next customer only mutters "venti iced americano, hurry" without even looking up from his phone and throws the money on the counter, he just puts on his best customer service smile and clenches his fists.

Not even five minutes have passed since the order was placed but the man in his early forties is tapping his fingers loudly on the delivery counter and alternating between staring at his watch and at James insistently. Fortunately, there aren't too many customers at this time of day, so Lily and Mary don't take too long to get the man's order ready.

"Is it too fucking hard to make a good fucking drink? I asked you for iced and this is lukewarm!" says the man in a voice loud enough to silence the café that was previously echoing with the soft conversations of customers.

Under normal circumstances James would probably have explained that all that needs to be done to make the drink colder is simply to stir it, but putting on his best smile he offers a "Oh, sorry about that. We'll redo it!" the customer is always right and that shit, right?

So when the drink is handed to him for the second time and the man literally spits the sip he took on Mary, James is ready for a confrontation.

"Are you an idiot or some kind of mentally retarded? This doesn't taste like fucking anything! You bunch of morons were dropped on your heads when you were babies. And you pair of bitches..."

Just as James is about to leap over the counter and punch this asshole, the man is pushed and cornered against the wall in the blink of an eye.

"Can you shut the fuck up?" says Regulus, one of the regulars who comes almost every day after work, shaking the man by the collar of his shirt with his ringed hands. And if James always notices how he sits at the table closest to the counter, and they constantly exchange glances it's nobody's business.

"But-"

"I don't give a shit, you've been throwing a tantrum this whole time and I won't take it anymore so get the fuck out of here this very second or I'm going to shove what's left of your coffee so deep up your ass to see if you can finally taste it." Regulus continues before pushing him against the wall one last time and letting him go.

The lovely customer starts to walk slowly towards the exit, but halfway there he turns around as if to say something.

"I promise they'll be finding your remains for the next four months if you don't walk out that door now," the silver-eyed man says before the forty-year-old can add anything else. The thing is, he says it so menacingly, like he really means it, that James feels weak in the knees.

Physical or verbal violence isn't supposed to be attractive, but this may have awakened something in James.

So please, no one judge him when a few hours later he ends up tangled in his bed from head to toe with Regulus.