#so you guys can see exactly how far above you she really is

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 3

pairing: you x drew starkey

The night Drew came back from his so-called “night out with the boys”, the tension was thick in the apartment. The sound of the front door creaking open felt like a bomb going off. You had been sitting on the couch for the last hour, alternatives between staring at your phone and looking out the window, hoping that something – anything – would make the ache in your chest fade. But the pain only deepened, and as the door clicked closed behind him, your stomach churned in a mix for dread and anger.

Drew walked in, his usual confident stride slowing when he saw you sitting there. There was a slight hesitation in his step, a quiet sign that he knew something was off. His eyes immediately darted to you, a mix of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite read. But the moment he stepped further into the room, your frustration broke free.

You didn’t even give him a chance to greet you, the words spilling out before he could say a word. “You’re late,” you said, your voice flat but filled with an edge he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Drew stopped in his tracks, glancing at his watch. “I told you, it was just a night out with the guys. Nothing big.” He said, his tone light, almost too casual. But you saw right through it. His words didn’t feel genuine anymore. You had heard the excuses before, and they were getting old.

You stood up, not wanting to be so passive about it anymore. “A night out with the guys? Really? That’s what you’re going with?” The bitterness in your voice caught you off guard, but there was no going back now.

Drew looked taken aback by the sharpness in your voice. “What’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you saw those photos.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to contain the words that had been bubbling up inside for days. “Yeah, I saw the photos, Drew. You and Odessa. Out in public again. Walking around like everything is fine. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“No. Don’t you dare try to explain it away. I’m not stupid. I can see exactly what’s going on.” You could feel the anger rising in your chest, a mix of hurt and frustration that you couldn’t keep bottled up any longer. “You’re out with her, looking all cozy, like she’s the one you want. Not me. And I just … I don’t get it. You told me it was all fake, just for the cameras, but I can’t keep pretending that I believe you.”

Drew’s face hardened, and the disappointment in his eyes stung more than anything. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his cool, but you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making something out of nothing. It’s just part of the job, I swear. She’s just a co-star, and this is all for publicity. You know that. I thought you understood that.”

“Understand?” you laughed bitterly, but the sound came out more like a sob. “You think I understand? You think I’m supposed to just sit here and watch you with her while pretending like everything is fine? No, Drew. I can’t do that. I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t hurting me. That I’m not losing you, piece by piece.”

Drew stepped closer to you, his expression softening as if trying to reach you, but you were too far gone. Too far past the point of no return.

“I’m trying okay?” His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was being honest, but it didn’t change anything. “I’m trying to make this work, but this whole thing is a mess. I never wanted it to be like this.”

You shook your head, feeling the sting of his words like a slap across your face. “Make it work? How do you expect me to trust you when I see you out there with her, smiling like nothing’s wrong? How do you expect me to keep believing you when I know that every word you’ve said about us was just...  just a lie?”

Drew’s face darkened at your accusation, his voice rising as the frustration that had been simmering inside him for days boiled over. “I’m not lying to you, Y/N! I never wanted this to happen either, but this is the way things are right now. I’m doing what I have to do, for both of us.”

“For both of us?” you scoffed, the tears that had been building in your eyes finally breaking free. “This is for you, Drew. It’s always been for you. For your career, for your image. And I’m just supposed to sit here and be okay with it? You’re asking me to pretend like I’m okay with being second to her, to everything you’re doing for the cameras. You know what, Drew? I can’t do that anymore. I’m done pretending.”

There was a long, tense silence between you, both of you staring at each other as if trying to make sense of the chaos you had created. Drew ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained but you were beyond caring. You had tried so hard to hold on, to believe him and in what you had, but every day felt like a betrayal.

You stepped back, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t trust you anymore, Drew. Not after everything. You’ve lied to me over and over, and I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m not going to keep living in this lie, this lie that both of you have created for the world.”

Drew looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just closed his eyes, the weight of your words crashing over him. He didn’t speak for a long moment, and for the first time, you realized he was just as lost as you were. But that didn’t change the fact it was too late.

Without another word, you grabbed your jacket, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that apartment with him. Not like this. You needed space, you needed to breathe.

You walked the streets aimlessly, tears still wet on your cheeks as the cold air bit at your skin. Every step felt like a weight, each one dragging you further from the man you thought you knew. The city lights flickered in the distance, but they did nothing to brighten the darkness in your heart.

You didn’t even know how far you had walked until you found yourself standing in front of a quiet park by the water. The silence felt both comforting and unbearable, as if the world around you had completely disappeared. You collapsed onto a bench, hugging your arms to your chest to stave off the cold, but it did little to ease the storm inside of you.

The moments from earlier replayed in your mind – the fight, Drew’s words, your own pain – and all you could do was sit there and feel the weight of it all.

That’s when the flash of camera lights caught your attention.

At first, you didn’t react, too numb to care about the photographers who had followed you. But then, the flashes intensified. You wiped your face quickly, but it didn’t stop them. The tears you had tried to hide were now on full display, and you felt like your privacy, your pain was being exposed to the world.

“Y/N! Over here! A little smile for us!” A photographer called out, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength to smile, not when everything felt so broken.

Your heart thudded in your chest as more flashes went off, capturing the raw emotion on your face – the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion. You could hear their voices, the jarring sound of camera clicks, as they shouted for you to look at the camera. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to perform for them. Not anymore.

You turned away, trying to escape their prying eyes, but you knew it was futile. The pictures will be everywhere tomorrow. The world would see you in this vulnerable state, and it felt like another punch to the gut.

You couldn’t stop the tears now. You couldn’t stop the feeling of being exposed, of being broke, of being so utterly alone in a world that seemed to move on without you.

A/N: please don’t hate me LOL😭

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Excerpts from Simone Ashley’s speech for winning Game Changing Actor at the Glamour UK Woman of the Year Awards

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: after luke lets you slip away the first time, he's destined to not let you slip away again.

warnings: cute fluff, awkward dialogue

word count: 2.77k

You were the face of Michigan Athletics.

Michigan wasn’t exactly known for its soccer program, but when you committed there, all eyes were on them. You were set to be their crown jewel athlete, bringing them their first national championship.

And in Luke’s opinion, they couldn’t have picked a better face.

You’d met at a pre-season party the soccer team threw during Luke’s freshman year. As the women's soccer team captain, you took on the hosting duties. Luke spotted you across the room almost immediately. You stood out in the crowd, not just because you were the host, but because you had an undeniable presence. Effortlessly charismatic, you moved through the room with ease, greeting everyone with a warm smile. Every new person you spoke to laughed easily at what you said, drawn in by your charm.

Luke stood by the kitchen counter, nursing his drink, his eyes following your every move. He noticed how you moved from group to group, person to person, finding conversation with every one of them. Luke didn’t even know if you personally knew all of them, but it seemed like you were best friends with everyone.

"Hey, Luke! Are you having a good time?" Brendan, one of the sophomore players, clapped him on the back, pulling him out of his trance.

Luke smiled, though his eyes drifted back to you. "Yeah, man. Great party."

Brendan followed his gaze and grinned knowingly. “Ah, I see you spotted y/n,” he said, sighing. “Not gonna happen, buddy.”

Luke furrowed his brows, turning to look at Brendan. “What? Why not?”

Brendan chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s… she’s like the sun. You know, everyone’s drawn to her, but no one gets close. She’s got a lot on her plate—captain of the team, top of her class, always involved in something.”

Luke glanced back at you, captivated by the way you laughed with the group you were with, your laughter ringing above the crowd's conversation. “She seems really nice,” he said, more to himself than to Brendan.

“Oh, she is,” Brendan agreed. “Nicest person you'll ever meet. But no chance in hell is she going for a freshman.”

Luke nodded, still not taking his eyes off you. Brendan patted him on the shoulder again. “Don’t get too hung up on her, bud. Enjoy the party. Plenty of other people to meet.” With that, he wandered off to join a group of his friends.

Maybe Brendan was right. Maybe you don’t go for freshman. But there was something about you that made Luke want to try anyway. He watched as you finally took a break from mingling and headed towards the kitchen. His heart pounded in his chest as you approached, and he decided to take a chance.

“Hey,” he said, mustering up his most confident smile as you reached the counter. “I’m Luke. Great party, by the way.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes with a warm smile that made his heart race even more. “Hey, Luke, I’m y/n. Thanks, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you said, your voice sweet. “I don’t recognize you… you must be a freshman.”

Luke chuckled slightly, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I am. I’m on the men's hockey team, actually.”

"So, how are you finding Michigan so far? Adjusting okay?"

Luke smiled, grateful for the shift in focus. "It’s been great so far. A bit overwhelming, but in a good way. The guys on the team have been really welcoming."

"That’s good to hear," you said, genuinely pleased. "The first year can be a lot, but it sounds like you’re handling it well."

A sudden chorus of shouts from just outside the kitchen ripped the both of you out of the conversation. You looked over your shoulder, seeing your friends waving you over, before returning your gaze to Luke. “Looks like I’m needed. But it was really nice talking to you, Luke. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.” You shot him a genuine smile before slipping out of the kitchen and into the crowd.

You saw each other a little bit during Luke’s two years there, short little conversations at parties or brief interactions in the athletic facilities at Michigan. But Luke never made his move. He’d think about it every time you interacted, but could never muster up the courage to say ‘Hey, y/n, wanna go out sometime?’. Then before he knew it, New Jersey had signed him, and he’d lost his chance.

That was until you had posted a photo, announcing that you had signed a contract with Gotham FC, the women's soccer team based out of New York and New Jersey. It felt like fate to Luke that the two of you wound up in the same city again. His heart raced as he stared at the photo, and Luke would be damned if he was going to let you slip away again.

A couple of games into the season, the team was informed that you, Gotham FC’s newest signing, would be doing the ceremonial puck drop. It felt as if the world was dropping a fated encounter right in Luke’s lap. Luke had let it slip to the Devil's PR team that he knew you and they pulled some strings to set up him being involved in the puck drop.

When he watched you step onto the ice adorning a Devil's jersey, Luke felt his breath catch in his throat. His crush came soaring back as if no time had passed.

He watched as you graced towards center ice, waving towards the cheering fans. Your lips parted widely, displaying the same genuine and bright smile that he remembered. The moment you reached the end of the red carpet, your eyes met him, and a flicker of recognition passed between you. Luke managed to smile, though his heart was pounding as if he was about to play in the biggest game of his life.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves that ran through his veins. “Welcome to Jersey.”

You smiled back, eyes twinkling. “Thanks, Luke. It’s good to see a familiar face.”

After the puck dropped, Luke lingered on the ice, watching as you were ushered off by Devil's staff and taken behind the bench. He couldn’t shake the interaction you’d had; the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, the way your voice sounded when you said his name. It was as if all the feelings he'd buried deep down were rushing back, more intense than ever before.

The feeling didn’t shake even as the game started. Every time he finished a shift, he couldn’t help but glance into the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of your face. He wondered what you were thinking, if you even remembered those small moments you’d shared back in Michigan, or if you felt the same connection that he did now.

The Devils ended up securing a win, but even as his teammates celebrated around him, Luke found his mind elsewhere. As he finished his post-game routine, towelling off the sweat and changing into his street clothes, Luke spotted the team’s media coordinator stick her head into the room before walking over to him. “Hey Luke, you have a visitor,” she said, a knowing smile tugging on her lips.

Luke’s heart skipped a beat, hoping it was you. He quickly ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to calm his nerves. When he stepped out into the hallway, there you were, leaning against the wall with that same bright smile.

“Hey,” you greeted, pushing off the wall and walking toward him.

“Hey,” Luke responded, a little breathless. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. “Figured I’d stop by and congratulate you on the win.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” Luke replied.

“I think it’s only fair that you come to a Gotham game now that I’ve been to a Devils game.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me with a good time.”

As you chatted, his teammates began to trickle out of the locker room, noticing the unfamiliar face. Jack was the first to approach, Dawson and Jesper close behind, throwing a curious glance between the two of you.

“Luke, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jack teased, already smirking.

Luke rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Guys, this is y/n. She’s with Gotham FC now. We knew each other back at Michigan.”

Introductions were made, and you were instantly welcomed into the group, the guys bombarding you with questions about soccer and your new team. You handled it with ease, laughing and chatting as if you had known them for years. You had the same effect on them as the rest of the people you met.

Luke tried to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting to how much he wanted to talk to you alone. The banter with his teammates was fun, but he couldn’t help feeling like this was his chance to finally make a move — something he’d regretted not doing back in Michigan.

As the group talked, Luke started to think about how he could get the guys to back off for a bit. Jack was already trying to dig into their history, jokingly asking, “So, Luke, did you ever tell her how you used to—”

“Hey, Jack,” Luke interrupted, shooting his brother a look that clearly said don’t even think about it. “How about you head on home? I’ll catch up with you guys later, alright?”

Jesper raised a brow, catching on to what Luke was getting at. “Yeah, yeah, we’re off. We’ll see you later. It was nice meeting you, y/n.”

Jack attempted to argue, wanting to bug his little brother a little more, but was ushered away by Jesper and Dawson. Once they were out of earshot, Luke turned back to you, his nerves kicking up a notch. Luke shifted awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his still-damp hair as he tried to steady his nerves. The hallway felt quieter now, the absence of his teammates making the moment between you two more intimate, more charged. He could feel the weight of the opportunity, the chance to say something he’d been holding back for years.

“I uh… I was wondering if you’d uh… want to maybe get a drink with me or something?” Luke stammered out.

A small grin tugged on your lips, Luke’s cheeks heating up and turning a light pink hue. “I’d love to.” you nodded. “But I hope you know a place, I’m still getting used to the area.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know a place,” Luke said.

Luke's mind was racing as you both left the arena together. The cool night air was a welcome relief against the lingering adrenaline from the game. He walked beside you, his hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to play it cool despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. It had been years since he'd last felt this way — the same fluttering nerves and excitement that he used to push aside back at Michigan.

You both arrived at a cozy bar just a few blocks from the arena, a place Luke had frequented with his teammates. The atmosphere was relaxed, the dim lighting and soft chatter creating an intimate vibe that made it easier for Luke to settle his nerves.

As you both slid into a booth, Luke tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t come off as too eager. He knew this was his chance to finally make up for the lost opportunities in Michigan, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“Nice spot,” you commented, glancing around with an approving nod. “It reminds me of that place in Michigan, Paulies?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, trying to ignore the way his heart sped up every time you looked at him. “Figured it’d be a nice spot to catch up, you know?”

“I’m glad you asked me out tonight,” you said, your eyes meeting his in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “I always wondered if we’d get another chance to hang out.”

The comment caught Luke off guard, and he blinked in surprise. “Really? You wondered that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a soft laugh. “I mean, we didn’t really get to know each other that well at Michigan, but there was always this… I don’t know, this connection, I guess. I always thought we’d hang out more, but then things got busy… y’know you with hockey, me with soccer… and well, you know how it goes.”

Luke felt a warmth spread through his chest, your words giving him the confidence he needed. “I thought the same thing,” he confessed, his voice a little steadier now. “I always wanted to ask you out back then, but I just… never did. I don’t know, I guess I was scared or something.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“I mean… c’mon y/n…” Luke chuckled but stopped when he met your sincere eyes. “You were always out of my league. I mean you were the captain of the soccer team, you were always on the Dean’s list, you are liked by everyone… I mean you met my teammates for five minutes and they were enthralled by you. Not to mention you’re like drop-dead gorgeous, I just…”

Luke stopped when he realized he was rambling, stopping also to catch his breath. You blinked, genuinely surprised by his admission. “Out of your league?” you echoed, leaning forward slightly. “Luke, what are you talking about?”

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable. He could hardly believe he was admitting this to you after all this time. A small laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Luke,” you started, your voice soft but firm, “You’re tall, handsome, and you were destined to be a hockey player in the NHL. You’re one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. You were always kind, even in those brief moments we had back in Michigan. And when I moved here, I remembered you played her and I was hoping I’d run into you again because… well, I kind of had a crush on you too.”

Luke felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. He blinked, processing what you just said. “You… you did?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded again, your smile growing a little wider. “Yeah, I did. I mean, how could I not? You were always so genuine and down-to-earth, even when everyone else was trying to act like they were too cool. But I never thought you saw me like that.”

Luke couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The weight of all the missed opportunities and the years of wondering seemed to lift in that moment. “I guess we were both kind of clueless, huh?” he said with a chuckle.

“Seems like it,” you agreed, laughing softly.

The laughter between you both faded into a comfortable silence as you locked eyes, the reality of your shared feelings settling in.

“Well,” Luke said, his voice a little more confident now, “I’m really glad we’re here now. And, y/n, I don’t want to let this chance slip by again. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I’d really like to see where this could go.”

Your smile grew, your eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and warmth. “I’d like that too, Luke,” you replied, your voice sincere.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of easy conversation and shared laughter. As you both walked out of the bar, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets, Luke couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. This was what he had wanted for so long, and now that it was finally happening, it felt even better than he’d imagined.

When you reached the corner where you’d have to part ways, Luke turned to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, can I take you out again? Maybe a proper date this time?” he asked, his tone light but hopeful.

You grinned, nodding. “I’d love that, Luke. And maybe next time, you can show me around more of the city.”

“It’s a date,” he said, his smile widening.

Luke bade you goodbye, turning on his heels and beginning down the street.

“Hey, Luke!” you called after him. Luke turned, locking eyes with yours that sparkled beneath the street lights. “Please don’t let me slip away again.”

[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL

paring: leehan x fem reader, ft. taesan genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k summary: finally confessing your feelings to leehan leads to a reaction you could have never prepared for. warnings: unwanted sexual advances (NOT from leehan), explicit [consensual] sex scenes, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ppl) read on ao3 if you please by clicking HERE.

“Jaehyun, you have a lot of friends, right?” asks Leehan when he and his roommate are relaxing in their shared living room, doing homework. “Do you know anyone who works in the tutoring office? Blonde streak of hair?”

It’s the only attributes he can remember about the guy he saw you entering your room with only a few days ago, noticing the blue tutoring office logo on the chest of his polo shirt and the distinctive stripe of color in the middle his head. 

“Oh yeah, I think you’re talking about Taesan,” says Jaehyun, who luckily isn’t paying attention enough to his roommate to notice how he perks up at just the name. “Why?”

Even Leehan himself isn’t exactly sure why he cares so much. 

It’s hypocritical at best and gross at worst to think that you have any less of a right to screw around than he does. 

But whether it's his innate territoriality coming into play or the fact that he’s upset it wasn’t him at your side instead, he can’t help but see you differently after what he saw.

“I saw him with some girl I was fucking. Sexual partners are like cars – You don’t want one everyone gets to use, you know?”

Jaehyun, who had up until this point been lying on the floor and playing idly with his Nintendo switch, sits up to look at Leehan. “You’re not talking about Y/N, are you?”

The first thought that comes to a surprised Leehan’s mind is what he said to have tipped Jaehyun off. Failing to think of any divertive lie, he decides there’s no harm in Jaehyun knowing, only wondering, “How’d you find out?”

“I saw her going into your room the night of my Halloween party,”  he explains reasonably, before his voice and facial expression turn suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s going through a lot right now. She just failed all of her midterms and she might get kicked out of school.”

“Wait, really?” asks Leehan, who is hit with a sudden pang of deja vu as if he’s heard this before but doesn’t remember from where. 

And then, it’s with a sudden and strong surge of embarrassment that he remembers the moment when he was feeling horny and decided to send you a dick pic, pressing the little blue arrow after only briefly glancing at the above messages.

“Oh shit. I think she told me that.”

Jaehyun laughs jeeringly, the resentful sound of which brings Leehan out of his own spiraling thoughts. “You’re an asshole, man,” he asserts, saying it in a way that’s so casual it’s as if it’s just a known fact. 

Not an insult or a compliment, but simply a thing that’s true. 

And somehow, the neutrality of it hurts worse. 

“No offense, but I totally hope she forgets she ever met you.”

Hit by the irony of such cruel words being preceded by no offense, Leehan becomes sarcastic to avoid having to express the true hurt of being told that. “None taken. That seriously wasn’t offensive at all, Jaehyun.”

Maybe Jaehyun is right. After working so hard to emphasize the line between being fuckbuddies and being in a relationship, yet still finding himself acting the exact way he feared you would, isn’t asshole the only way to truly express how shitty he’s being about this? 

It’s at that moment that Leehan considers that perhaps this relationship between the two of you has spiraled out of control. 

Because something that should be inherently easy and casual has now caused him far too much regret and remorse for his liking.

Sitting in an empty classroom with Taesan, you share a cup of bubble tea, the drinking of which causes you to bump hands several times as you reach out to grab it at the same time. 

Interacting with Taesan always brings up sweet and innocent feelings that are like that of childhood crushes, or chasing fireflies on your lawn after dark. 

Fall break has long been over and yet you continue to meet with him even outside of your mandatory weekly check-ins, forgetting the anxiety that once plagued you over this arrangement. 

The time you spend with Taesan is so fulfilling that you’ve managed to completely forget that Leehan hasn’t contacted you in almost a week. 

Well, maybe not completely. 

You still wonder from time to time what he’s thinking, if maybe he read the text message you sent prior to his dick pic and internalized the part where you emphasized how you wouldn’t have time for him anymore.

There is of course a tiny part of you that feels empty and abandoned at the idea of him ghosting you and never talking to you again.

But it’s in a stroke of optimism, feigned or otherwise, that you decide to pour your attention into someone who feels like a much better match for you, that someone being Taesan.

“I’m just about to finish with this assignment. After I’m done, do you wanna go to the caf?” you mumble out in inquiry to Taesan as you check over your quiz answers for the last time before submitting. 

You hear him make a noncommittal noise in response, which you first interpret as disinterest, but only seconds later recognize to be absent-mindedness as you feel his eyes warming the side of your face. 

You let out a chuckle, just about to say something teasing to him for being caught staring at you when a few warm fingers glide across your ear. Taken aback, you meet Taesan’s gaze as he tucks away a piece of your stray hair. 

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, holding your face in his hand. “You have this…faraway look in your eyes.”

Your eyes dart between his face and his hand that’s slow to come off of your ear, surprised by the sudden bit of physical contact.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer calmly if maybe a bit shakily, trying to appear normal though your head screams with a million passing thoughts at once. Taesan nods in acceptance of this answer before turning back to his laptop as if nothing happened. 

If you were at all a gambling person, you’d bet good money that the telltale, suave move of tucking your hair behind your ear was a way for him to see how you’d react to something less platanotic from him. 

And if you were to allow this moment to pass by without saying anything, you know that he would follow your lead and pretend like this never happened. He’d use your silence as evidence that his advances are unwelcome. 

Perhaps you’re feeling a little bold, but you don’t want him to go any longer thinking that his interest isn’t reciprocated.

“Wait,” you remark, reaching out to grab Taesan’s wrist. “Taesan, can I kiss you?”

The usually mysterious, confident boy loses his ability to speak when you ask him that, eyes going wide and only nodding to communicate his consent. Finding his sudden shyness charming, you smile as you lean in to press your lips against his. 

Taesan’s mouth is just as inviting as you thought it would be all the times you spent staring at it when you were sure he wasn’t looking. He may have acted shy just now, but the way that Taesan kisses you is like fire. He presses his mouth hard against yours, and when his body does the same you soon find yourself pressed into the rolling chair you’re sitting in.

Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You were sure that Taesan, ever the responsible one, would be the person between the two of you to pull away before things got too heated. 

But now, all he does is lean in to your provocations, sticking his tongue into your mouth while you whimper against his. 

And as you try to allow your brain to white out so that you can truly relax into the gratification he is sure to give you, all you can think about is how his lips are not Leehan’s lips.

His hands are not Leehan’s hands. 

His kiss doesn’t evoke even a fraction of the electricity that Leehan does just by looking at you. 

You accept then that self-preservation must be a confounding myth to your psyche, because against all odds, you are still very much into Leehan. 

And while you could easily fuck Taesan anyway and let the enjoyment of his sex prove as a temporary salve to the gaping wound that is your feelings for Leehan, you feel too much like he doesn’t deserve to fuck someone with such selfish intentions. 

So, it’s with both regret and sobering understanding that you pull Taesan away from you, lines of spit breaking into drool as you separate.

The two of you become temporarily frozen in a moment of both confusion and shock. Taesan, looking at you with widened eyes and reddened lips, asks in a small yet urgent voice, “What? Is something wrong?”

You already feel like a piece of shit as you loosen your grip on Taesan’s hair, letting your hands fall to your lap and noticing that his still rest on your waist. “Taesan…” you begin, and already at just the sound of his name, you can see his expression wilting, like he knows by the unsure tone of your voice exactly what you’re going to say. And how couldn’t he, when you suck so badly at giving bad news?

“I think you’re an amazing person. And believe me when I say I really, really wanted this between us,” you emphasize, wishing you could get swallowed up by a hole as he continues to stare at you in dumbfounded awe. 

You know that these aren't words anyone wants to hear but you feel compelled to say them, feeling like Taesan deserves honesty from you.

“To be completely candid with you, the reason why I’m on academic probation is because of a guy. A recent guy who treated me like shit, but because I’m an idiot, I still want him.”

You wait on edge for the moment when Taesan’s disposition will return to that of the understanding, kind person you’ve come to know, the moment when you’ll both laugh at the awkwardness of this situation and allow yourselves to forget it ever happened.

Instead, though, all you see in Taesan’s eyes is a fiery passion that makes your head hurt as you realize he won’t let this rejection go down easily. 

“You know that doesn’t matter to me right? We don’t have to…be all romantic, and shit. I’m fine with something casual. Happier with that, even.”

It’s with a pang of insecurity that you fight back a self-pitying laugh at those words, wondering what it is about you that makes men only want casual, no-strings-attached relationships with you. 

“I’m sorry for making things awkward. And if you don’t want to tutor me anymore after this, I’d completely understand,” you concede in the nicest possible tone you can muster, still incredibly conscious of Taesan’s hands that have still not left your waist. “But I can’t do this, Taesan. You’re amazing but I just…I can’t, okay?”

When Taesan continues to stare at you as if he isn’t comprehending a word that’s coming out of your mouth, you reach down to move his hands off of your waist yourself, and when you do,  you’re shocked when you feel his fingers seizing around your wrists to hold them in place. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. So what if you’re not over your ex? That shouldn’t stop you from getting your rocks off,” he says, voice rising considerably as he squeezes your wrists so harshly it begins to hurt. 

It’s at this moment that you realize you’ll never be able to look at Taesan the same again. 

No longer the sweet, kind and helpful boy you first met, he looks pathetic and at worst, scary as he continues to refuse your rejection.

“Taesan, I’m really gonna need you to let go of me,” you request, saying it without any niceties as you manage to convince yourself that maybe he’s just taking this extra hard for whatever reason and just needs to hear you being serious so that he can come to his senses. “Listen, how about we end early for today and talk about this another time–”

“I’m not letting you leave until you can look me in my eyes and give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this,” he asserts, still holding your wrists, laughing a little in a way that makes it hard for you to tell if he knows that he’s making you uncomfortable or thinks that this is all just some game of hard-to-get. “You can act coy all you want but I know you want me, I could tell as soon as I met you.”

“I’m gonna tell you to let go of me one more time, Taesan, and then I start screaming,” you threaten, no longer feeling amused or pitiful but instead angry, adrenaline running through your veins as you consider the possibility of having to physically attack him. 

You’re not sure how things escalated so quickly but now you’re quickly regretting ever befriending Han Taesan in the first place, ever thinking that he could be a permanent fixture in your life.

Catching you by surprise, Taesan stands up suddenly from his chair and drags you up with him. It’s in a flurry of movements that he somehow manages to pin you against a wall, smirking down at you from above. 

You let out a squeal but he covers your mouth, strong enough to use only one of his hands to keep your arms pinned above your head. He laughs as you struggle against him, perhaps not realizing – or worse, realizing it and getting off on how deeply he’s managed to scare you.

“What?” he asks through upturned lips, pressing his body into yours. “Don’t girls like it when guys don’t take no for an answer?”

It’s in the strangest and most serendipitous stroke of luck that you hear the sound of the classroom door swinging open.

And when you turn your head to meet the gaze of your savior, it’s Leehan who you see standing there, taking in the scene in front of him. 

It feels stupid and random that of course it’s Leehan who just happened to be the person to walk in here, but you don’t dwell too much on the details, focused on the relief that floods through you knowing there’s someone here to intervene on your behalf. 

Leehan hesitates momentarily as he wonders if he’s just had the misfortune to accidentally walk in on the kinky foreplay between you and this new guy you’ve been seeing. Attending a lecture in this same building, he happened to walk by the classroom and hear a distressed voice that sounded vaguely familiar. 

Through the fogged glass material of the door, he could just barely make out your silhouette, instinctually barging in to see what was going on. 

If Leehan didn’t know you so well, he might’ve immediately bolted at the sight of you engaging in intimacy with someone else. It would be too much and he knows it would force him to confront his conflicting feelings towards you.

But the moment he meets your gaze and sees the steely, ice cold fear that’s in your eyes, his next moves are made clear. Without questioning anything, he steps forward and punches an already staggering Taesan in the face.

The punch causes Taesan to fall backward, blood that you aren’t sure is coming from his lip or his nose splattering onto the floor. You and Leehan remain frozen, you in shock at both Taesan’s actions and Leehan’s sudden presence, and Leehan with the adrenaline of becoming unexpectedly violent. 

It’s in that moment of stillness on both of your parts that Taesan has time to recover, and before you can react, he’s leaping forward to tackle Leehan onto a nearby desk.

You let out a squeal of shock as the two men struggle, causing desks and their chairs to fly around the room haphazardly in the process.

And to your horror, Taesan quickly gets the upper hand over Leehan, sitting on top of the shorter boy in a straddling position before letting his hands fly in a series of devastating punches. 

You go to pull him off but he pushes you away, forcing you then to search frantically for your phone in the hopes of calling campus security before Leehan is pulverized any further.

“Hey, is something going o—” you hear an unfamiliar voice ask, and you look up to find that you’ve been discovered by a complete stranger, a boy who you assume is another student by his shaggy attire and backpack. He answers his own question by glancing into the room and catching sight of Taesan and Leehan who are both now bleeding as they remain wrestling on the floor.

You’re just about to enlist the stranger to help you in dragging Taesan off of Leehan when, suddenly, you don’t have to. 

Realizing that the stranger’s presence could mean that even more people could arrive to inspect what’s causing all of this noise any second, you watch as the fear of getting in trouble overtakes Taesan’s expression until he’s getting up. 

He gets up and sprints out of the classroom wildly, shoulder checking the stranger in the process as he flees out of the building.

“Should I run after him?” asks the student at the door who you’re sure is still processing what he’s just seen. But more than anything else, you’re worried about Leehan, who you just saw taking several punches to the face and is laying down on the ground making strangled, agonized noises.

“No. It’s better that you scared him away. I just need to get him to the infirmary,” you reply, trying to sound more calm and controlled than you feel but hearing how your adrenaline from the past few minute’s events causes your voice to come out shaky and broken. The stranger asks if you need any help but you wave him away, deciding it would be too much of a burden to have to explain what just happened to anyone else. 

So it’s by yourself that you go to hover over Leehan’s body and try to push back the horror of seeing his face bloodied and bruised so that you can help him onto his feet.

And because most of the damage seems to be centralized on his face — maybe his back and head, too, after being tackled onto the ground — he mostly manages to stand up on his own. Though, once on his feet, he has to lean on you to avoid staggering.

“Don’t…let him…go, Y/N,” he mumbles, making you feel even more concerned and on edge as his garbled tone makes it sound like he’s one step away from passing out. “He was…hurting you, wasn’t he?”

“It’s fine, Leehan. Let’s just get you to the infirmary,” you reply dismissively, needing him to be pliant more than anything in this moment so that you can get him to your thankfully close by campus infirmary without issue. 

Your transgression with Taesan with startling and for a brief moment, terrifying. But with him now gone, the majority of your distress lies with Leehan and making sure he’s okay.

And to your relief, as you take a few steps forward with Leehan’s arm leaned over your shoulder, he remains upright and mostly autonomous in his movements.

He continues to say nothing on your way out of the building outside from the occasional groan, and you’re sure that as the adrenaline wears off that the pain in his face must become more present. You luckily make it to the infirmary moments later, where the doctor on call takes one look at Leehan’s face and immediately rushes him into a care room. 

Everything that happens after that is a bit of a blur for you. A campus security officer comes to take a statement from you. You tell him everything, giving him Taesan’s full name and picture in the hopes that it can lead to some type of action, although a part of you feels discouraged and numb at that notion.

You wait anxiously in the lobby of the infirmary, waiting for an update from the doctor and feeling like you’re gonna throw up when the older woman comes out from the hallway with a neutral, unreadable expression on her face.

“Hi ma'am. Your friend is doing just fine. All of the cuts on his face are superficial, so they’ll heal on their own. He’ll have some bruises and swelling, which will also go away with time. He does have a bit of a concussion, so we’ll send you both home with some Tylenol. If you’d like to come and see him, you can follow me.”

Though you figured that most of his injuries were minor, you still feel relieved to hear that nothing is significantly wrong; it’s irrational, but you know you would have been eaten alive with guilt had anything serious happened. 

Getting up to follow the doctor, you walk into the care room to find Leehan sitting on the edge of an examination chair, a nurse still applying little white bandaids to a cut on his cheek. When he sees you come in he smiles, though only fleetingly as the gesture causes him to wince in pain.

You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt to sit down on a chair that’s directly next to his dangling legs. You watch as the nurse goes to prod at a separate wound on his lip with a q-tip dipped in brown liquid. You don’t realize how tense you are until you feel the warmth of a hand over yours, and when you look up, Leehan is staring at you in amusement. 

“You’re shaking,” he observes, and though he can’t smirk without it causing him pain, he still gazes at you in a way that is teasing and smug. And the fact that he’s concerned about you when he’s the one who’s getting medical attention makes you let out a cynical, humorless laugh.

“Don’t worry about me. Look what he did to you.”

“I’m still good-looking, though, aren’t I?” he replies playfully, and because you’re so upset, you feel yourself almost inclined to scold him for making such jokes in light of the circumstances. But Leehan, never one to read the room or adhere to the tones and moods of others, is laughing as he commands, “You have to tell me or I’ll have an internal crisis.”

You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to be annoyed by him but not being able to help your smile as he continues to await your confirmation of his enduring looks with a pout. 

Rolling your eyes, it’s with a bit of resistance in your voice that you reply, “Yes, you’re still handsome, Leehan.”

He pumps his fist up in the air triumphantly, and with that, the nurse leaves the room, telling you that she’ll return with the official paperwork needed so that he can be discharged.

Once she’s gone, it’s quiet between the two of you until Leehan breaks the silence with a question. “That guy…his name’s Taesan, right?”

You’re taken aback, both at the sudden change in his tone and disposition –  his voice now serious and inquiring – and the fact that he even knows who Taesan is. “How do you know?”

“I saw you with him outside of your dorm. Asked Jaehyun who he is,” he responds plainly. And as you take in this information, you’re not sure what to say in reply. Even just knowing that he was outside of your dorm that day when Taesan came to your room and didn’t say anything makes you think he must’ve had some kind of reaction to seeing the two of you together. 

And as you put the timing together, it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him for a week until now.

But then again, it doesn’t make sense. Because the Leehan you know, the Leehan you’ve come to resent, surely wouldn’t — shouldn't — care to see you with another guy when he’s been so adamant about keeping things non-exclusive between the two of you.

“Are you together?” he asks when you remain silent, and in what feels like a complete switch in power dynamics, you find that Leehan is the one now clearly expressing some kind of worry or at the very least interest in what you get up to when you’re not with him. 

And because you feel both vindicated to be on the other side of this sort of questioning, and not at all entitled to tell him the truth, you answer by asking, “If I said yes, what would you say?”

Leehan looks at you, all amusement absent from his expression even as he says somewhat sarcastically, “That I thought being with me meant you had better taste in men.”

His response causes you to scoff, the idea of him thinking that he’s somehow at a higher caliber than all the other similarly emotionally-unavailable men on your campus something you find absurd. 

And yes, maybe it’s because you’re already feeling a little bitter towards him that you’re then replying scathingly, “If anything, wouldn’t my interest in you mean the opposite?”

“Funny,” he says sardonically in reply. The atmosphere between the two of you currently is tense. He resents you for being with someone else and you resent him for setting boundaries for your relationship that he never intended to follow.

And yet, despite the unresolved negative emotions that are clearly swimming between the two of you, it feels absurd and crazy to say that as you continue to make unbroken and silent eye contact, you feel like he’s about to kiss you. 

That’s the sort of crazy chemistry you seem to have with one another, where even as you both have the rationality to recognize the toxicity of this dynamic you both still find yourselves magnetically pulled to one another in a way that, in most people’s eyes, would be viewed as mindless. 

But it’s just as you swear he’s leaning in that the doctor comes into the room, handing Leehan a clipboard and telling him he can go once he’s finished filling out a few forms. You wait for him, not sure what will happen once you leave but feeling almost responsible to at least see him to his apartment.

And so, you exit the hospital together, and it’s as you’re walking out that you voice to him truthfully, “It feels weird just dropping you off like you didn’t just get your face rearranged trying to save me.”

He lets out a chuckle in response, swinging his body so that he’s standing in front of you before shrugging and saying, “Then don’t drop me off. We could go to your dorm, watch a movie.”

The request to do something as simple as watch a movie sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth that you can’t help but laugh out loud. “When do we ever watch a movie?” you ask, repeating the words in disbelief. 

You’re mostly joking when you ask that, but it’s with a tiny pang of sadness that you acknowledge the tragedy of him wanting your company for something other than sex being something that’s so unbelievable.

“Today. Rocky V is probably ill-timed, but I love a good nature documentary,” he replies with a grin, and as always, you are unable to get a read on his expression to know if he is being serious or not. 

But today has been a crazy day and you know that being in your room by yourself after everything that’s happened is only going to make you feel worse. So, deciding that there’s no harm in keeping him company for just a little while longer, you allow him to lead the way to the building that he’s been to so many times. 

You know from learning your roommate’s schedule that she’ll be in a lab for the next 3 hours, a fact that makes you feel relieved as you enter your dorm with Leehan trailing behind you. He comes in and immediately collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out on either side of the cushions in a way that brings renewed attention to his broad shoulders.

“So. Do you actually want to watch a movie?” you ask casually as you stand a few feet away from him, trying your hardest to keep any bitterness out of your tone as you watch him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.

“You know, now that I’m here…” he says, already smirking as he watches you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “It feels like a much better idea for you to come sit on my lap.”

Even though you find yourself enticed by the invitation, in a small, distant part of your brain, it feels like you’ve been manipulated into letting him come to your room. That watching a movie had always been a lie to get you to have sex with him.

But something has changed inside of you, and from what, you can’t pinpoint. All you know is that the accumulations of lies and divertive tactics that you’ve endured from Leehan thus far has left you almost numb to his provocations. 

Instead of feeling sad or shitty or upset, you just feel nothing. 

And somehow, that change feels more concerning to you than the emotions from before did.

Still, you find yourself stalking silently to Leehan on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as you make your way towards him. His legs spread naturally as you get between them, and it’s with a jaguar-like slowness that you crawl over his body until you’re straddling him. 

Intensity rolls off of the both of your bodies like water, the silence and shared eye contact only contributing to the growing sexual desire that builds between the two of you.

In contrast to such lust, it’s in a gesture of affection that you lean in to lay a gentle, barely-there kiss against all of the wounds on his face. The cut on his cheek. His busted bottom lip. The knot forming on the top of his head. The bruise on the side of his jaw. You do it almost in apology but also because you want him to tease him, giving him only fleeting touches and kisses before you do anything substantial. He flinches at first at the contact but eventually relaxes into the softness of your lips against him. 

And though you couldn’t articulate the reason why, you get the feeling that he flinches less out of pain, but more in surprise at the unfamiliar gesture of tenderness and how it impacts him. 

You’ve only just reached his neck, sucking hickies into the pale skin there, when you can feel his cock hardening underneath you.

It’s after you’ve kissed every single piece of skin uncovered by his shirt that you decide to relieve a bit of his suffering by reaching a hand down into the waistband of his pants. All you do is close your fist around his shaft and stroke him languidly, but you suppose your teasing worked better than you thought as he whimpers at the simplest of movements. He bucks into your hand, not afraid of seeming desperate and shamelessly moaning at your touch. 

Watching him writhe and shudder beneath you, sensitive in a way you’ve never seen before, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this is one of the few times that you’ve felt even a semblance of control in your interactions during sex. It’s always been you on the receiving end of his endless repertoire of tactics, designed always to render you incomprehensible and under the thumb of his persuasion.

Spurred on by the observation, you take advantage of his submission to ask a question that’s been on your mind since you left the hospital. 

“Can I ask you something? Why did you ask Jaehyun who I was with?”

You can just barely make out the expression of surprise that appears faintly behind Leehan’s glassy eyes, and in a tactic that even you admit is slightly contemptible, you never stop the movements of your hand as you await his answer. 

Desperate for even a moment’s worth of vulnerability from him, you hope that by literally dangling his climax in your hands that he’ll be more inclined to be truthful with you.

But for Leehan, giving you the honest answer — that he’s simply a jealous person who can’t stand seeing you with someone else even though it’s hypocritical — would only serve in making you think that his jealousy is a sign of caring, his caring a sign of affection, his affection a sign that he wants to be your boyfriend. 

And though that assessment isn’t as easy to refute as it may have once been when he first met you, it seems idiotic to put any ideas in your head that could lead to him having to admit feelings he isn’t quite sure of yet. 

So, in lieu of the truth, he replies with something that, honestly, should be a bigger concern for him than it presently is: “Because you should tell me if you’re being intimate with someone else. What if you’re not using protection and I catch something?” 

Up until now, you had prepared yourself to react calmly to whatever Leehan’s answer would be, a task you knew would be difficult because the idea of him being jealous at all is in itself insane and backwards.

It was he who insisted that this dynamic be free of any constraints or limitations. 

But the fact that he’s implying you would have sex with someone else and be so reckless as to not make any precautions for your health has your composure breaking, a scoff leaving you as you blurt out, “Have you been honest with me about the people you’re seeing?”

It’s a question you already know the answer to as you still haven’t forgotten the night of the Halloween party, how Jaehyun let it slip that Leehan had been on a date. You’d never confronted him about it because, deep down, you felt that you had no right to. 

But now, he’s placing judgment on you in a way that makes you want to throw all caution to the wind and express your true emotions to him for what seems like the first time.

Hearing the knowing tone in your question has Leehan worried, tilting his head to stare at you as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Are you trying to catch me in a lie, Y/N?” he asks, amusement in his tone though you can tell your questioning rattles him. “I’ve never told you anything that wasn’t true.”

But that’s just because you’ve never told me anything of substance, you think to yourself, reflecting back on all of the times he left your room in a hurry so that he could avoid having to show you anything real.

You continue jerking him off intently, and even though he’s obviously enjoying it, you can tell that you’ve thrown him off. During sex you’ve always maintained this sort of scathing, playful banter, but this time, he knows that your question is motivated by a genuine desire to hear the truth from him. It makes him beyond uncomfortable, especially with his dick still hard and aching in your moving hand. In a sudden change of dynamics, it’s him trying to read what you’re thinking.

Seeing this crack in Leehan’s usually guarded persona spurs you on into saying even more things that you’ve been suppressing. “I know that you’re seeing someone else,” you assert, honesty you never thought you’d be capable of expressing coming out boldly and without ambivalence. “Jaehyun told me, the night of the Halloween party.”

Your eyes are glued to Leehan’s face as you scan for the smallest fluctuation in his expression, searching desperately for any indication of what he’s thinking. And in yet another gesture that might as well be a verbal admission of guilt, Leehan stares up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. 

Leehan – confident, cool, teasing Leehan – who has always made you feel like you were scared of intimacy for not wanting to make eye contact with him during sex, is now the one shying away the intensity of your gaze. 

The feeling of triumph that comes with finally feeling like you have him at your mercy after months of the opposite has you speeding up the movements of your hand, watching as he almost winces from the overstimulation you provide. 

But more than anything else, you want answers. 

You want to know why he thinks it’s okay to police who else you invite into your bedroom when he clearly does whatever he wants without any regard for you. 

You want him to decisively and plainly decide if he’s either a sadistic asshole who believes that he should be able to treat you like shit while he goes out and fucks whoever he wants—Or if, like you, the passion of this relationship has overwhelmed him so much that he now finds himself feeling things for you that are beyond sexual, things that have caused him to abhor the notion of you being with someone other than him.

It feels like you need the answer to that question more than you need air.

And so, it’s in desperation that your voice comes out shaky as you demand, “Say something.” 

“I can’t,” he manages through gritted teeth, the sound of his voice coming out raspy and submissive making your cunt pulse with arousal. “You’re about to make me come.”

Feeling like he’s being backed into a corner, Leehan wants to tell you to stop, but the euphoria he’s experiencing is too great. He’s never seen you be so assertive, so purposeful in doing things that you know will make him go crazy. 

Rubbing your thumb over his tip. Spitting downward so that the wetness of your spit can reach his cock. Stroking him wildly and meeting his thrusts into your fist. 

Pressure builds in his abdomen until he feels himself about to explode with what might be the most intense climax of his life. 

But in a move that shocks the both of you, it’s just as Leehan is about to finish all over your hand that you abruptly pull off of him. 

Stop the movements of your hand and watch brazenly as the realization of what you just did is processed on his face.

Maybe he thought that you were joking and that this was all just some aggressive manner of foreplay. 

But now, he can see in your shocked expression, how you look so surprised at even your own insistence, that to deny him of his pleasure in this way was something that took a lot out of you. 

It’s been a hallmark of your relationship so far for you to devote yourself to his satisfaction. You’ve always cared so much about being wanted by him, even after he’s shown his disregard for you time and time again.

And so to see you work up the courage to defy him in this way makes it clear to him that you’re not gonna drop this.

This isn’t something that he can smile or flirt his way out of in the hopes of having you wrapped around his finger for just one more day.

You’re gonna force this into being an issue. And fine; if you want to have this conversation, he’ll have it.

Even if it means that by the end of this you'll realize how shitty of a person he is and want nothing to do with him afterward.

If you were still the same pliant, conflict-avoiding Y/N, you’d be alarmed at the change in his expression and how his usual amused smirk melts into a straight-lined frown. You’d transform into the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who’d laugh and pretend that this was all just a way to rile him up into fucking you, hoping that you could forget this moment ever happened.

But it feels like something has been lost in your dynamic that can never be brought back. You’re no longer okay with being lied to, manipulated. And Leehan, realizing how serious you are, seeks to take back control of this situation by flipping your bodies over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 

He pins your arms above your head, holding them down so you can’t move. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”

He says the statement with a warning sort of tone but it only makes you laugh, no longer able to take his provocations and vague answers seriously. “Then don’t try to act hypocritical and treat me like I’m a fucking irresponsible idiot,” you retort, no hint of banter in your words as you hope he understands how serious you’re being, how done you are with his lies. “Having sex with guys without protection and not telling them about it. How do I know you haven’t been doing the exact thing you’re accusing me of?”

You ask a valid question that Leehan sees no way to get out of answering. Clearly, you already know (because of his disloyal, talkative fucking roommate) that he’s been seeing at least one girl that isn’t you. And because he can tell with certainty that your pliance is dependent on at least some kind of honesty from him, he tells you a technical truth when he says, “Since I met you, I’ve only been fucking you. No one else. I swear.”

It’s an answer that protects him from having to further delve into whether he’s seeing anyone else romantically, an important distinction that he isn’t interested in clarifying for the sake of your continued interest in him.

And as he watches you scan his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you seek to find any indication of either sincerity or hypocrisy in his expression, he seizes the opportunity provided by your momentary lapse in questioning to reach past the waistband of your leggings, sticking two fingers into your pulsing cunt. 

He watches with satisfaction as even in your bitterness, you still can’t help the way your back arches and your mouth parts naturally at the action. Mirroring your tactics from before, he gives you great satisfaction in exchange for your hopeful compliance. Thrusting his long fingers inside of you, he mumbles in sensual truth, “Your pretty, wet pussy is the only thing that’s been occupying my brain for the last three months.”

The part of your brain that would question the credibility of his words is turned off like a lightswitch as the thrill from his fingers takes over. As much as you try to fight off what you’re experiencing so that you can regain the upper hand, it feels like it’s almost in revenge that he fingers you with such vigor that you can’t speak. 

“Can you say the same? Huh, pretty?” he demands, digits angled just right so that the tips of his fingers repeatedly push against your most sensitive parts. “Tell me I’m the only person whose been fucking orgasms into your cunt.”

You could usually appreciate such possessive sentiments from Leehan when they were spoken in moments where there wasn’t any lingering resentment between the two of you. Now, they only annoy you, causing you to petulantly reply in mocking of his earlier words, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

And in a move that is surely in imitation of your earlier actions, he pulls his fingers out of you completely and with them, your orgasm. His expression is a handsome mixture of annoyance and frustration. 

It feels like the two of you are in some sort of scornful, unspoken competition, you trying to get him to be honest and him trying to get you to drop this entirely. And all of this undercut by the fact that both really wanna fuck each other, only adding to the frustration of your pleasure being taken away. 

Though your body reels regretfully from the sudden drop in adrenaline, it’s with an unmoved expression on your face that you sit up, making yourself level with him. 

“What?” you retort derisively, amused to find him upset at tactics you only know because he modeled them for you so many times before. “Does it make you mad?”

“No,” he answers, a fierce expression on his face that lets you know despite the desire radiating between the two of you that he’s being serious when he says, “It makes me question the type of person you are.”

And as you poke his chest assertively, you reply, “A person abiding by the standards that you set,” reminding him once more how he lacks the right to feel entitled to your body. 

You again question why he continues to insist that a no-strings attached arrangement is what he wants when it’s clear he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

And so, it’s in your confusion that you ask, “I’m giving you exactly what you want. So why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”

“This isn’t what I want,” he says in reply. And the way that he says it almost quietly, like a stream-of-consciousness that was accidentally blurted out loud, has you inclined to believe that maybe, he’s finally coming around to seeing just how poorly suited this arrangement is for the both of you.

So, it’s with a curious tilt to your voice that you ask, “Then what do you want?”

Looking at you with a sort of urgent, unyielding expression on his face, it’s after a moment of intense and searing silence between the two of you that he leans in to kiss you roughly. What was once a moment of willful competition between the two of you now becomes intense and panicked as the passion of the last few moments takes over your bodies. 

Your hands move in a frenzy as you rush to take off one another’s clothes, and you get the feeling that had the fabric provided any real obstacle, you both would’ve been willing to rip each other’s pants and tops off. Actualizing your desire for one another becomes the most important and serious task to have ever been endeavored upon.

You’ve only just removed your final article of clothing when Leehan crawls between your legs, finding you soaked and pulsing in anticipation of his touch. Noticing this, he can feel himself going crazy with all of the unanswered questions he has about you and Taesan. He finds himself vocalizing these thoughts shamelessly as he mumbles, “Fuck, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me. Because if someone else has had this pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”

“Make me come, and I’ll give you a straight answer,” you defiantly reply.

Tired of your games, it’s in expression of his growing impatience that Leehan slaps your pussy uncaringly. The act sends a jolt of shock through your body but especially your clit, making you moan in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, and rather than being amused by his insistence like you were before, it's for the first time that you find yourself intimidated, as well as turned on. “Tell me the truth.”

Leehan has always been the leader in your sexual dynamic, but you’d never describe him as rough or dominant until now. Rattled by the change, you aren’t able to manage a reply to his demand, but it’s then that Leehan raises himself up so that your faces are level. 

Making sure to keep his eyes on yours this time, he pushes three fingers inside of your aching cunt — more than you’ve ever taken from him and enough to have your eyes rolling back upon impact.

“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demands as he fucks you open with his fingers. You’ve never seen him this fired-up, this crazed, and it has you more turned on and pliant than you think you’ve ever been before. 

His fingers thrust in and out of you with strength you’ve never felt before, and in an amount of time that you find to be pathetic, you can feel your stomach tensing with an approaching climax, moans leaving your mouth with every breath and every curl of his fingers. 

But for the second time tonight, Leehan notices you’re about to come and rips it away from you by withdrawing his fingers entirely. And unlike before, you can’t pretend not to be dismayed as you whimper wistfully at the loss of contact. Leehan, unamused, only stares at you from above and says with finality in his tone, “Tell me the truth, and I’ll make you come.”

You can see now how serious he’s being, how important this is to him, and though you find it entirely irrational, the pulsing of arousal in your body is too strong to ignore. 

“I never fucked him. He never touched me until today.”

“And anyone else besides him?”

“There’s no one else, Leehan,” you assure him, body wracked with the weight of several heavy breaths as you practically beg for him to believe you, to touch you, to relieve the almost painful aching of your cunt. “Just you.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he doesn't require any additional scrutiny before accepting your answer at face value, muttering an approving “Good girl,” before diving between your legs.

And you guess by the almost hungry, desperate way he then proceeds to eat you out that his easy acceptance of your word is just as much in service to his own desire to taste you as it is to you and your enjoyment. 

Because you find not just in this instance but always that Leehan gives head like his survival is dependent on your arousal. He licks and sucks and mouths at your clit, moaning languidly into your core like it's the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

And as if that’s not enough to have you reeling, he brings his hand out from underneath your thigh and puts two long, crooked fingers back into your dripping hole, thrusting and curling them inside of you like he’s intent on finding the spot that will make you scream. You throw your head back and close your eyes at the feeling that washes over your body, something like electricity pulsing through you and making your legs shake. 

Without intending it, your hips buck against his tongue in chase of your impending orgasm. And when he flattens the wet muscle, allowing you the agency to take your pleasure rather than him having to give it to you, it’s only seconds later when you feel your abdomen contracting with the intensity of your long awaited orgasm. 

You’ve barely recovered from the high of your climax when you hear Leehan saying tauntingly from above you, “See? No one else can do that as good as I can.” He then spreads your legs apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, slick turning your inner thighs shiny and wet. ”Don’t you know now why you shouldn’t fuck anyone else?

Refusing him the satisfaction of an answer, your only response is to sit up and tell him, “Lay down. I wanna ride you.

Leehan’s only show of resistance to this request is a raise of his eyebrow, but he’s otherwise pliant as you maneuver on the couch so that he’s flat on his back. You hover just below his hard-as-a-rock erection, realizing you should go and get a condom, but it feels like an ultimate test of both your honesty that you assertively inform him, “I’m on birth control.”

Understanding what you mean to imply with this admission, you watch as Leehan’s eyes gloss over, another wave of lust taking over at the notion of having raw sex. In a distant part of your brain that isn’t completely corrupted by wanting, you wonder if this is a good idea given that you have no way of proving whether he’s been honest about his sexual history with other girls.

But as you unconsciously scoot closer and allow his cock to brush against your folds, his encouragement of “Then sit on it,” ringing pleasantly in your ears, the only thing that delays you is your desire to further tauny him. 

“Look at me,” you command passionately, holding on just barely to your own composure as you fight to get these words out amidst your own lust-corrupted brain. “If you stop, I stop. I want you to look in my eyes when I make you come.”

Leehan, either ignorant to how serious you’re being or uncaring, whimpers out your name in lieu of any indication that he understands and accepts what you’re saying. You sink down on him anyway and allow the feeling of being filled to the brim by his long, veiny cock to wipe out any and all thoughts out of your mind. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” he mumbles out in expression of how good it feels, after you’ve only just began bouncing your body up and down his cock. You bear witness to the moment when the embrace of your tight walls becomes too much for him and he throws his head back, disregarding your words from earlier. 

And although it hurts you to do so, makes your thighs burn and your lips part to let out a regretful whimper, you pull yourself upwards until his cock slips out of you completely.

“Open your eyes,” you demand assertively, not just for his sake but for your own, so that you can go back to riding the life out of him until you both can come. “Show me why you deserve this. Remind me why I keep letting you fuck me.”

The scathing remark and the brazen expression you wear as you say it causes Leehan to regain his focus, returning his gaze to yours and making sure to maintain it even as your reinsertion of his cock has him fighting not to shut his eyes closed. It’s with a feeling of regretful foreboding that Leehan realizes this is probably going to end way too soon, that the sickening combination of you riding him, your dominant and sultry words, the view of your body from above him, and the intense unbroken eye contact all work in service to his quickly approaching climax. 

And even as you too feel yourself inching closer and closer to the point of incomprehensible return, you keep talking, feelings that you’ve been suppressing for too long coming out in sultry, brokenly-spoken expressions. “I want you to savor this moment. Memorize how it feels to be inside of me,” you tell him, and then, leaning down to bite the tip of his ear, you whimper, “Fuck Leehan. You’re so big.”

Your purposeful usage of all the things you know for a fact rile him up the most is not lost on him, and it’s almost like you want him to come as quickly and embarrassingly as possible. He lingers on that thought for less than a few seconds, but even just the fleeting idea of spilling his seed inside of you has his brain entering a whole nother level of depraved and uncontrolled, until he’s muttering out the word “Fuck,” in repeated succession and thrusting up into you wildly. “Gonna come,” he announces only seconds later.

“I know you are, baby. And when you do, remember that I can only make you feel this good,” you reply, surprised at your own ability to sound assured and in control in the midst of your own fast-approaching orgasm. But in a way, it feels like you grow more confident the more you watch his verbal and motor skills deteriorate with every bounce and squeeze of your pussy against his cock. 

Making grunting sounds as his thrusts become sloppy and uncontrolled, he replies through gritted teeth, “I know. You’re my favorite girl, Y/N.”

You’ve always hated that term because of the implication it makes that there are other girls with whom he's comparing you to. But as you commit to fighting off all of the weak, vulnerable, sad emotions that have now only rendered you numb, it’s in another show of control that you reply, “Then say it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

At first, you aren’t sure if Leehan can even manage a reply as you watch him grow focused and intent on his approaching orgasm. But it’s through a mixture of muffled grunts and whines, his hips never ceasing their thrusts into you, that he begins to speak.

“Your pussy was made for me. It’s all I ever think about. The sex we have – nghh – it’s the best I’ve ever had,” he tells you emphatically. 

And the brokenness of his words, the way they come out rushed and passionate as if a suppressed part of him needs you to hear them, has you feeling profoundly impacted by the weight of them. 

“You make me crazy, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. Only you—” 

It’s with one final rough, definitive thrust that Leehan comes inside of you. You’re overcome by the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling your walls, pussy clenching around him as you too experience another orgasm. And as you both recover from your highs, you can feel the atmosphere becoming almost instantaneously stuffy and awkward, the realization of what just happened and all of the things you allowed to come out in the heat of the moment hitting you all at once.

Wanting nothing more than to be released from the clutches of this regretful moment, you pull yourself off of him and wince at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and onto your inner thighs, some of it spilling onto the couch. 

And without ceremony, Leehan does what he does best – he gathers his clothes and things and begins to put them on as if nothing happened.

The silence that overcomes the two of you as you sit naked and uncovered on the opposite couch, watching him change, is unlike either of you. You’d usually at the very least manage  a few words about how good that was, or small talk about anything fun happening soon on campus. Had Leehan been any good with silence, he might’ve just walked out and not said anything to you at all. 

But it’s because of his own manipulative and egotistical desire to continue to remain in your good graces that he says, in desperation to ease the tension, “Hey. By the way, I’m sorry about the picture I sent you. I don’t usually read your messages, so I didn’t see what you had sent me beforehand.”

You stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and hostility coming over you all at once.

Having completely forgotten about the dick picture incident until now, you feel the emotions from then coming back up in a way that feels shocking given the relative inoffensiveness of his apology just now.

It’s hard for you to pinpoint what exactly about the statement sets you off. 

Maybe it’s that you just had the most intimate, soul-baring sex, and now he’s basically back to reminding you of just how little he values you and your personhood. 

How easy it is for him to completely ignore anything you say to him if it has nothing to do with him and his own pleasure.

And with these emotions more than likely reflected on your face, you watch as Leehan — like a startled deer in headlights — makes what are perhaps the quickest efforts he’s ever done to leave your dorm in a hurry.

“I should get back,” he’s replying coldly as he gets up, throwing his jacket over his body so fast that it folds awkwardly along his sides. “But thanks for this.”

This, he says casually. As if his seed isn’t currently wetting the inside of your legs right now.

“But Leehan, the rain—” you insist. Because you can hear thunder rattling your windows outside and you know that to walk home to his apartment is an entirely irrational notion.

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, already halfway to your door as he turns around to look at you, something like regret painted all over his passive expression. “We don’t do that for each other, remember?

And it’s with that last parting, ominous statement that you watch Leehan leave your dorm room without another look in your direction. He’s left your room like this — in a hasty blur without a word or an acknowledgement — more times than you can possibly count. 

So why you find yourself overcome with the feeling that this may be the last time you’ll ever see him again, you’re not entirely sure. 

But it’s because of that gnawing, persistent feeling, eating at you like it never has before, that you get up and find a robe to throw over your body so that you can go and find Leehan before it’s too late.

You’re not even sure of what you’re going to say when you find him standing on the outside porch of your building, head down and phone in his hand as he waits for an Uber. All you know is that it’s pouring buckets outside and even with the bit of roofing over your heads, the wind still blows rain onto your bodies, rendering his hair and face wet. 

“Leehan,” you call out, watching as he turns to you and automatically freezes up as he realizes you followed him out here. “Wait. Don’t go.”

It’s at least a little bit understandable why Leehan appears taken-aback by your words and your presence — any other time you’ve had sex, you’ve never once tried to get him to stay behind, even though he could always notice in your expression or quiet intensity that you wanted him to.

So the fact that you’re here telling him not to go, and because of the nature of the sex you just had, it’s like he already knows that you’re planning to pour your heart out to him, and it’s in fear of that that he finds himself saying wearily, “Y/N—”

“No. Let me talk,” you assert before he can finish, a part of you feeling like if you don’t get these words out now, you never will. And so, fueled by the unexplainable feeling that this may be the last chance for you to tell him how you feel, you channel all the confidence you can possible muster and allow all the suppressed emotions from the last three months to spill out without any filter.

“After we have sex, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you like being with me. I want you to fall asleep with me. I want you to see me and treat me like I’m a human being and not some physical object that you use for sex and nothing else,” you exclaim with a self-pitying scoff.

“And I tried being the chill girl who just goes along with things that are casual. But Leehan, you make me feel things that no one ever has, and it’s not just the sex. For the past few months…it’s felt like my life only truly felt worth living if you were noticing me.”

You can plainly tell by Leehan’s stiff body language and overall lack of reaction that this entire spiel is making him uncomfortable. And as discouraging as the reaction is, now that you’ve started, it feels like you can’t stop until he knows everything that he’s put you through to get to this point.

“And maybe I only feel that way because when we fuck, it’s not like some one-night-stand or throwaway shit. It truly feels like I’m baring my soul to you. And I know that it’s not one sided,” you remark with confidence. Because being in bed with Leehan is the only time when you feel like you can truly understand him. It’s when your hearts, minds, and bodies are in sync and you can both be at your most vulnerable with each other.

“But then you leave, just like you’re doing now. And it makes me feel like the most massive piece of shit you can possibly imagine,” you mumble out with a broken, wet laugh.

Coming to the end of your spiel, you let your arms come down to your sides defeatedly, and with one last imploring look to Leehan’s blank and starry eyes, you ask the question that has been haunting you for the better part of three months now. “So what I guess I want to know is…what is it that’s stopping you from going all in with me? Is it that I’m just…not enough for you to want anything more than sex?” you question, insecurities that have been welling up for so long coming out in a way that has your voice sounding broken. “Or are you just too scared of commitment to allow yourself to feel loved?

“Because that’s exactly what I feel for you. And god dammit, Leehan, but I’m almost 80% sure you feel that way for me too.”

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else left to say and that you got everything you wanted to explain out, it’s with a relieving sigh that your body expels the weight of three months’ worth of pain, sadness, and thoughts of worthlessness. 

And because you know it must be a lot to be on the receiving end of the heaviness of those words, it’s not surprising that the next few seconds after you finish speaking are filled by silence. Watching Leehan stare at you intensely, you allow him the time and the grace to process what he’s heard before you jump to assuming the worst of his silence. 

But then, his first words to you hit you like an icy blast of wind. 

“Y/N, you’re a good person. And the time we’ve spent together has been so much fun for me. But this has always been just that for me…fun. Sex,” he says unambivalently, framing the words delicately though it does nothing to prevent them from hitting you like a freight train. “And I’m sorry if I ever did or said anything that gave you an impression otherwise.

“But honestly, Y/N…” he continues, looking away from you and losing the ability to sugarcoat his thoughts as he expresses, “I told you from the forefront what this was. Why did you say yes if it wasn’t what you wanted?”

He asks a valid question that you unfortunately don’t have the answer to. Because honestly, what were you thinking? Looking back at that moment when he first proposed this arrangement, you have to wonder what possessed you to be delusional enough to think that this would possibly end well.

As embarrassing and humiliating it is to admit, it’s the sex. All those times he told you he desired you, how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, made you feel like maybe he just didn’t know what he wanted. That eventually he’d come around.

“Because I didn’t think that it was that important to you,” you tell him, feeling your confidence shrinking in real time as your voice comes out quiet and whiny. “I thought…I thought you were changing your mind.”

“I don’t think we should keep doing this, Y/N,” he declares in reply, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I like you a lot, but I can’t continue on if I know you have the expectation that this is gonna blossom into something more. I’m sorry, but it’s just not.”

And with that last sobering pronouncement, Leehan runs a hand through his hair, an obviously fake chuckle let out of his lips as he seeks to break the awkwardness of this atmosphere. “This really wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he mumbles out apologetically, and the way that he stands there stiffly lets you know he wants nothing else than to get away from you right now. 

And sure enough, the sound of a notification going off draws both of your attention to his phone. Like a final dagger to your heart and self-esteem, he’s not even able to hide the relief that floods his expression as he announces, “My Uber’s here, so I just…goodbye, Y/N.”

You watch Leehan step off the porch and into the rain, the lack of light and storm clouds rendering him into nothing more but a blurry, gray silhouette. 

It’s how you will more than likely remember Leehan as you watch him enter the white Mazda that pulls into the driveway. 

Watch the car drive off knowing that you will more than likely never see him again.

He will forever be immortalized in your brain as the stormy force of a presence that came into your life like a tornado, wrecking everything around it and exiting like nothing happened, leaving you a splintered mess of a world to clean up for yourself.

You will be just another Natty, someone Leehan offhandedly mentions to his friends in the car with whoever he chooses to be his next victim, someone he spent a good few weeks with only to never mention them again.

“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declared with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”

You rolled your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”

Even as his expression remained passive, he replied forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”

He was right.

The next two months of not seeing, talking, or hearing from Leehan go by in a gray-ish, incomprehensible blur.

You complete your classes, managing a passing GPA and thankfully holding on to your scholarship.

You go out to lunch and on study dates with your mutual friends, neglecting to explain why you always need to know who else is coming before you agree to going out.

You attend a couple parties and events on campus, wondering each time whether you’ll run into Leehan and not sure if the rigid feeling over your chest is because of hopefulness or fear at the idea of possibly seeing him. 

And as you pack up your things to get ready to move out for the winter, it feels like you should be over this by now. You spent three months together. Tumultuous, but still only three – it doesn’t seem to make sense why you still feel so hurt.

But you’re now learning that situationships are the hardest to comprehend in their aftermath because it’s hard to know what exactly it is that you’re feeling wistful towards. Leehan isn’t your ex, but he’s also not a friend whom you simply grew apart from. 

He’s another third thing that you can’t quite capture, making it difficult for you to reminisce on your exciting yet tainted memories with one another.

It’s with these thoughts running through your mind that you finish packing your last few items of furniture, readying them to be stowed away in the back of a U-Haul you rented for the day. 

And with your dorm now basically empty, your roommate having moved out a few days before, you can’t help but to view it nostalgically from the vantage point of your doorway, memories of this semester’s escapades coming back to you all at once.

The dresser that you let Leehan stash his condoms in.

Your cheap bed whose loose, metal springs always robbed you of any chance at secrecy in your interactions. 

Moving towards your kitchenette, you stare silently at the flowers he gifted you that one day, still alive despite several weeks of neglect. The little cardboard fish he stuck between the petals makes it appear almost like they’re swimming among colorful, sagging coral reefs.

Your eyes flit over to your couch, where you didn’t know at the time would be the last place he fucked you before he’d never talk to you again.

Going over these memories in your mind, it makes sense then why when you hear a knock resounding on your door, the first thing you think of is Leehan.

But surely, you’re just caught up in the emotions caused by the sudden moment of reflection; it has to be an RA, or a neighbor about to ask if they can borrow a broom and dustpan.

When you go to open your door, you don’t consider for a second that on the other end could be the one person you’re not prepared to see right now.

So when it swings open and you’re greeted by a straight-faced, wide-eyed Leehan, whose body is relaxed against the side of your door, it feels like all of the air is knocked out of your body.

“Hi,” he says plainly, straightening his posture when he sees you staring at him staggeringly. To say that you feel conflicted as you take in his handsome, tall form would be beyond an understatement. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since you’ve seen each other, and it’s almost like he could tell you right now that he’s here because he wants to fuck you and it would feel normal, like nothing has changed between the two of you.

But even in just making that mental observation, you feel angry and resentful that such a dynamic was normalized among the two of you for so long that you convinced yourself it was okay to be treated that way.

And as you stew in those feelings of renewed bitterness and frustration, you find yourself suddenly and strongly opposed to him being here, asking bluntly, “What is this? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to apologize,” he answers with an imploring look, and habitually you study his expressions in the hopes of discerning whether he’s being sincere or not.

But it’s with a feeling of resignation that you realize how done you are with trying to constantly read his mind and understand what motivates his decisions.

Because the same way there’s a chance that he really did show up here with good intentions, there’s just as equal a chance that he wants you to trust him again so that he can get his dick wet.

And so, in a move that brings you an immature level of satisfaction, you close the door on his face without another word.

You hear him exclaiming loudly “Y/N, wait!” on the other side of the door but you’ve already made up your mind, deciding that whatever he has to say isn’t worthy of your time or attention.

You’re done with his manipulative behavior, with his aloofness and undeserved self-assuredness, but most of all you’re tired of being made to feel like shit. And that’s all he ever did in those few months that you were sleeping together.

As you retreat to your bedroom, you go to return to packing your things, but the adrenaline from the passing moment makes your hand shake and your body pulse energetically. You need a second to pause and breathe and process what’s just happened, to walk around and pace away all of this unresolved energy. 

But then you turn around to go back out into your living room, and that’s when you see Leehan standing right outside the arch of your bedroom doorway.

“Jesus fucking christ, Leehan!” you exclaim in a mixture of both surprise, frustration, and confusion as you wonder whether he broke in or if you—

“You left the door unlocked,” he replies calmly, and even though he knows he has a lot to make up for, he still can’t help the smirk that comes to his face as he jokes, “Kinda 101 not to do that if you don’t want someone coming in. That’s like me leaving the filter of my fish tank —”

“Get out, Leehan. Get out! I have nothing left I want to say to you!” you shout, impatient and uncaring to his jokes and his dimples and everything else about him that used to charm you. It’s all meaningless to you now, and you don’t care if you look crazy or unhinged when you go to physically push him out of your dorm.

But even with the nonchalant, noncommittal way he holds onto your wrist to restrain you, you still only manage to move him a few steps, much to your dismay and rage.

And so, in a heat-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decision, you move to close your bedroom door on his face. While successful in keeping him out of your bedroom, you don’t even realize until seconds later that he’s still free to roam in your hallway, kitchenette, and living room, while you’ve essentially just locked yourself in.

Predictably, you can hear Leehan chuckling outside of your door as he makes this same realization.

“You know, if it was your goal to get me to leave, then I’m not sure locking yourself in your room really…” he begins to say, not able to keep the amusement out of his voice at the foolish mistake on your part. But, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place, he tones it down to say soberly, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”

You walk over to the side of your bedroom that’s opposite from the doorway, sitting down on the floor, determined to tune out whatever it is that Leehan is about to say. Maybe if you stay silent and let him tire himself out, he’ll eventually leave knowing that there’s nothing he can say to make up for how he’s made you feel.

“I”m not super good at explaining myself, or talking at all, honestly. I go on tangents and my mind is just…a giant fucking minefield. So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you.”

Leehan’s voice is distorted but nonetheless able to be heard clearly through the thin wood that makes up your door, so much so that you can clearly hear the crumpling noises of a paper being unraveled as he starts to read. 

“If you’re listening to me read this, it’s because I somehow managed to convince you to hear me out. Either that, or I broke into your dorm, which feels like the more likely option,” he says with almost no emotion behind the words, and against your own discipline, you can feel your lips twitching into a smirk automatically in reaction to his strange, off putting way of speaking.

“I know my insistence can come off as crass given how shitty of a person I’ve been to you. But I knew that today was move-out day, and I needed you to hear me out before you left.”

You hear him take a deep breath before continuing with the next part of his speech. “As you know, I’m a pretty fearless person. But when it comes to admitting my feelings for you, I’ve had a much harder time. Truthfully, since I met you, it’s been because of my own immaturity that I’ve seen other girls romantically. Even though I always knew my feelings for you were different, I pushed them away in the hopes of avoiding having to commit to anyone. When you told me how you really felt for me, truthfully, it scared me. I didn’t want to know what my life would look like if I decided to be with just one person.

“I thought that by rejecting you, by being away from you for this long, that my feelings for you would go away,” he remarks with the same sort of unfeeling, neutral tone to his voice, as if he knows the explanation behind his actions is unimportant given how they’ve impacted you. “I wanted to view you as just another name on a long list.”

But it’s with his next words that passion and sincerity and longing bleed into his voice all at once to say, “But it’s taken me this time of being away from you to realize that…I’m still not over you.”

After minutes of hanging onto his every word despite every inclination that has been telling you to do otherwise, it’s those last five words that hit you like a freight train. 

And you know it’s foolish and dumb to be believing anything that comes out of his mouth anymore, but you suppose it’s no different from all of the other times you continued to let him in even when he showed you so many times why you shouldn’t. 

Your reasoning remains the same – you just feel an irrational pull to him that is all-consuming, your heart connected to his in a way you can’t control. 

And it doesn’t help that everything he says next is all of the affirmation you’ve been wanting and needing him to give you throughout your entire time of sleeping together. “You deserve someone that’s going to treat you with respect. Someone that makes you feel loved and beautiful and desired. Someone with the courage to be vulnerable and who will care for you in your most vulnerable moments. And I’m sorry if you felt like you didn’t have that with me,” he remarks, and you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath throughout his spiel until your chest literally contracts from the lack of air to your lungs.

“But if you can find some way to forgive me, then I want to make us work,” he asserts pleadingly. And with the finality that it feels like follows that statement, you get the feeling that what he says next is no longer being read off the paper. 

Especially when you can hear what you think is the top of his head, leaned against the door with a small thunk as he quietly laments, “I want you, Y/N. Not just sexually, but for everything that makes you who you are. It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” 

It’s quiet after that, so much so that you can hear his small and broken breaths being let out against the wall. You hear what you think is the sound of his hand being brought up to rest next to his head. And as the feeling of being pulled in so many directions takes over you, your heart in a heated battle with your brain, it’s after a few moments of silence that you stand up and walk over towards the door. 

Leehan, observing the shadows of your footsteps through the little gap at the bottom of the door, perks up when it’s just a thin barrier of wood that keeps you from being face-to-face with one another.

You prepare yourself to be annoyed when you open the door in expectation that he will be his usual unreadable, unserious self. 

But it’s in surprise but also a little relief that what you find when you face him is the expression of a man who’s truly understood the gravity of his mistakes and feels shameful over them.

“You look really pretty,” he blurts out, the suddenness of the remark almost betraying your slowly but surely growing feelings of understanding towards him. But you also can’t help that his random candor makes you laugh, reminded of some of your earlier interactions as he sheepishly says, “Sorry, bad timing.”

Still standing a fair distance away from him, the tip of your toes just barely meeting the tip of his as you look down at them to avoid eye contact, you attempt to ease the tension of the moment with a shy but truthful, “Thank you, Leehan. For the compliment and for the apology.”

You can feel the heat of his gaze as he tilts his head to stare at you, his attention feeling hopeful but not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but in a way that has you compelled to be completely vulnerable and honest with him.

“I’m just…really scared that you’ll hurt me,” you confess somberly, and it still feels strange to even say things like this to him because you’ve spent so much time suppressing your negative emotions when it comes to Leehan. Scared that you’d lose his approval and feeling like you needed such approval to feel good about yourself.

But over time as your relationship progressed and you found yourself little by little regaining the sense of self that your interactions with Leehan robbed you of, you were able to realize that you didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like an object only useful if it was giving satisfaction to someone else.

And it was in resentment that over these two months of not speaking you felt like Leehan believed that, too.

But now after hearing him explain himself and believing genuinely that he wants to be with you, you now battle with the parts of you that are scared to believe him in fear of getting hurt and the parts of you that so badly also want to be in a relationship with him.

“I’m not scared,” he tells you, the confidence you’ve come to know him for coming out more strongly than ever before. “I’ve got you, remember?”

He then goes to place his two middle fingers underneath your chin, pushing your jaw upward so that you’re forced into eye contact. Staring into his endless and piercing eyes, it’s for the first time that you feel like you understand him in a non-sexual context. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you mumble quietly in reply.

And it’s as you feel your lips twitching into a content smile that Leehan leans in to kiss you, and you accept the gesture without question.

five months later

“I wanna go half on a baby with you.”

These are the words that Leehan remarks to your sleeping form as you lay comfortably beside him in bed, sleeping but getting roused into attention by the faint sound of his voice.

“A fish baby, of course,” he clarifies, though you don’t even register what he’s saying as you remain half-asleep. “I think the ones in my tank are getting lonely.”

It’s hard to tell sometimes whether Leehan is musing out loud to himself or talking directly to you, but either way, the deep tone of his voice wakes you up just the same. 

You lay on your stomach, opening one eye to find him sitting up on his elbow and staring down at you with a curious expression on his face. His hand, resting on your back, draws unintelligible figures on the skin that’s left uncovered by your night shirt. 

All in all, it's a pretty domestic, intimate scene, had you not glanced over at your phone to find how early it was.

“Leehan, it’s seven a.m,” you complain to your boyfriend who still just stares dreamily at your sleepy figure. “What are you yapping about?”

Too familiar with your morning grumpiness to be phased by it, it’s with an unmoved expression that Leehan casually replies, “Just about how much I want a baby with you.”

When you hear those words come out of Leehan’s mouth, you’re sure you must still be asleep and that this is just an incredibly vivid dream. Either that, or you’re dating the strangest person in the world. 

Given that both realities are entirely plausible, it’s in your tiredness and confusion that you sit up from the bed completely, staring at a relaxed Leehan with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that? I mean eventually, sure, but while we’re in school—”

“I was talking about fish,” he interrupts you to say, chuckling at your confused expression and giggling again when you pout at being laughed at. “But since you’re so eager, why don’t I put a baby in you right now?”

Your own laughter in reaction to his words is suppressed when he presses a large hand on your stomach, pushing you back down on the bed. He leans in to kiss you, but per usual, you refuse to make things easy for him.

Reaching behind your head, you grab a pillow and smack him in the face with it, creating a barrier between your bodies. “You’re such a weirdo,” you playfully quip, a designation he only takes in stride as he goes to throw the pillow somewhere on the floor.

“I’m your weirdo though,” he emphasizes, and it’s as you’re both smiling in satisfaction that he leans in to press his lips against yours.

And as his cold hands roam your warm body, you’re hit with a sudden wave of happiness as you acknowledge how far gone the days of having to wish for him to stay even fir minutes after you’ve had sex truly are. 

Because in the past five months since you’ve gotten together exclusively, not only is it routine for him to stay behind, but you also get to wake up together and experience these sleepy, romantic moments. 

The moments when he slowly kisses down your body, dragging his plush lips down your sternum until he’s positioned between your legs.

The moments when you pull softly at his hair as he languidly drags his tongue up and down your folds, begging you in his gruff, sleep-affected voice to come all over his face.

The moments when you could be sponning sideways, on top of him, or below him and he’ll still find a way to spread your legs apart, pressing his long, veiny cock inside of you until you’re overwhelmed by how full you are. 

The moments where his tiredness renders him impatient and he fucks into you so roughly that you can barely form words. 

The moments when he kisses you lazily through every thrust until the sex becomes so good that all you can manage is the occasional swipe of your tongue against his lips or a whimper into his mouth.

The moments when you reach your climax together and he rocks his come in and out of you like he never intends on pulling out.

The moment when you moan out his name, understanding why when you first met he insisted that to know it was a privilege. That to know him is a privilege.

And finally, your favorite, the moments when you either fall back asleep in each other’s hold or get up to shower the sleepiness and sweat off of each other. 

Today is one of those days that you relent to getting up and showering, convinced only by the fact that neither of you has a morning class, making it a perfect day to visit the pet shop conveniently located just a few miles from your college town.

“What about this one?” 

You turn to face Leehan in the fish tank lined aisle of the pet store, lips curling into a smile as you observe him pressing his face up to the glass in awe. As you come up to his side to view the brown-colored fish that have him so captivated, it’s in a surge of honesty that you reply, “Don’t you think they’re kind of…ugly?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend gasps dramatically in reaction to your words, even brushing his hand against the fish tank in a gesture akin to patting someone's head. “They can hear you, you know. I’m so sorry, fishies.”

Ignoring his childishness, you look around at the surrounding fish and sigh as you’re overwhelmed by all the different options. “Honestly, Leehan, you should just pick one. They all look the same to me.”

“But it should be something we both like,” he answers with a pout, circling the aisles a few more times before finally stopping at a tank in the very corner. 

Inside of it are an array of multi-colored fish, but the one that stands out to you is an entirely white one with a patch of vibrant red at the top of its head. 

It would be indistinguishable from a goldfish had it not been for its striking color and the appendage that looks almost like an inside-out brain on its head. 

A label beside the tank reads Oranda. 

“What about this one?” asks Leehan in curiosity, and in an almost alarming way, he points out the exact same fish you were just eyeing. 

You come around to the other side of the tank to view it from another angle, giggling innocently when you make eye-contact with Leehan through the distorted lens of the water. “It’s pretty,” you remark simply, and because Leehan has come to know you so well, he knows that the simple attribution is a sign of high praise from you.

“Should we make it ours?” he asks you officially, and though you’re certain that this is the fish you’ve been looking for, there’s one question popping up in your brain that you still can’t find the answer to.

“What should we name it?”

You both take a beat to ponder on the question. Leehan chimes in first, blurting out, “I know. Loony.”

At this, you scoff, unsure as to where he would have gotten such an idea from. “Are you trying to say that our child is crazy?” you quip in feigned offense. 

“No. It’s short for lunar eclipse. That’s when I knew we were gonna be more than just a one night stand,” he tells you sincerely, and with that context you find yourself becoming quickly attached to both the name and the fish who you take home in a plastic bag only moments later.

You allow Leehan to take the lead in homing Loony, a process that involves lots of complicated jargon about adjusting the water temperature and changing the salinity that you mostly pretend to understand as he explains it to you. 

And when you are finally able to sit side by side in front of the tank and watch through the glass as Loony swims among the other fish, it’s with an adoring tone of voice that you hear Leehan say, “It’s pretty, awesome, right?”

At the sound of his voice, you turn to face him, and without being entirely conscious of it, you simply take in his features and how content he looks to be here, with you and with these fishes.

“Yeah,” you reply, laying down and resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s awesome.”

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thank you all sm for your support on this fic <3 your reactions, feedback, and compliments have meant the world

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕩

Warning: Angst/comfort/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words left his lips as soon as he sat down across from her. His voice was low, full of regret, but the moment they left him, he regretted them. He could already feel the weight of her anger pressing down on him.

“Sorry for what exactly, Chan?” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “For leaving me for dead?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart tightened painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his voice. If only she knew...

“I didn’t leave you for dead... I promise.” His voice was a soft whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. He shut his eyes, willing away the pain that threatened to swallow him.

“Then what exactly is it?” She scoffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her eyes flashed with an intensity that made his chest tighten even more. “What’s your excuse?”

“Can... can you let me explain?” His words came out barely above a whisper, but there was a pleading tone to them. He needed her to understand—needed to make her see that he never meant for things to turn out this way.

She tilted her head, studying him for a long, hard moment. “You guys were at the territory line, right? You could smell my scent... and yet you chose to ignore it. You could hear my screams through the bond, but you chose to ignore that too,” she said, each word sharper than the last. Her anger was building, and it felt like it was radiating off her, burning everything in its path.

She was right—and wrong—and it ate at him.

He felt the weight of her words, but there was so much more she didn’t know.

“Oh, Y/N… if you only knew…” Chan thought to himself, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

“That’s not what happened!” The words came out more forcefully than he intended, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “Just... let me explain. Please.”

He couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall now. The overwhelming guilt, the helplessness—it all came rushing back, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Y/N said bitterly, her arms still crossed, her gaze as hard as stone. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving him. The challenge in her words was clear—prove it.

Chan took a shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he had been holding in for so long. He wasn’t sure how to start, but the words felt too important to rush.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hyung, look at this! Changbin’s voice boasted through the bond, brimming with excitement. He was a few meters away from Chan and LeeKnow, clearly having found something unusual.

What is it? Chan asked, his paws deep in the soil as he worked on scent-marking the perimeter of their territory. The branches around him swayed gently, brushing against his fur.

I just found this… dead… deer? Changbin tilted his head, trying to get a better smell of the carcass, his nose twitching in confusion.

Deer? We never have deer here… Chan responded, perplexed. Wait—don’t touch it! His ears pricked up, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.

Chan’s body tensed, and he moved swiftly, using his heightened senses to track Changbin’s scent. As he closed the distance, he could feel the hairs along his neck stand on end. When he finally arrived, the sight before him took him by surprise.

Why is there a deer here? Chan questioned, his voice low, almost growling, as he scanned the area. The animal’s body lay unnaturally far from their territory line, and it was disturbing—too far beyond the boundaries of where it should have been.

Do you think someone was here? Changbin asked, circling the lifeless creature, sniffing cautiously.

I can’t smell any other scents, Chan growled, his gut twisting with unease. Something didn’t feel right. His nose was sharp—too sharp—and he knew this land like the back of his paw. There had never been a deer this far into their territory, much less one lying dead.

Stay alert, Chan warned, his voice tightening as a sense of danger gnawed at him.

Changbin nuzzled his snout into Chan’s side in silent understanding before scanning the perimeter, his tail flicking nervously.

I don’t have a good feeling about this, Changbin growled quietly.

“I know. Neither do I,” Chan agreed, taking a few cautious steps away from the deer’s body. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

It was then that a twig snapped nearby. Chan’s reflexes were lightning fast. He growled, stepping in front of Changbin, his body tensing as he prepared for whatever threat was coming.

It’s just me, hyung. Can’t you smell me? LeeKnow emerged from the bushes, laughing softly, clearly unaware of how close he had come to putting himself in danger.

LeeKnow! Don’t do that! Chan’s voice was a low, furious growl. Oh my God, you almost got yourself killed! He snapped, heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, LeeKnow quickly apologized, his voice sheepish, but his curiosity got the better of him. I thought you could hear me... I was pretty loud. What’s going on here? Wait—is that a deer? His eyes widened in disbelief.

Yeah, exactly, Chan muttered, still shaken. That’s why we’re on high alert. But I didn’t smell you. In fact… I don’t smell anything. His voice trailed off in confusion, his eyes narrowing as his senses felt off, almost muted. What was going on with his ability to smell?

LeeKnow’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, sniffing the air. Hyung… I don’t have a good feeling about this.

Okay, let’s just go back to the territory line, Chan replied, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness and unease. Where’s Y/N? I don’t feel good having her this far out. His thoughts were racing. She shouldn’t be anywhere near this strange scene.

She’s picking strawberries by the wild gardens… LeeKnow replied.

Okay, go get her and—

Before Chan could finish his sentence, a sweet, unfamiliar scent filled the air. It was intoxicating, heavy and thick, like something dangerous. Chan’s heart began to race in his chest, his head spinning. What is that?

I don’t feel well, Changbin groaned, rubbing his nose with his paw. The world around them seemed to tilt, and Chan’s body started to feel sluggish, his legs unsteady.

His senses began to dull, and the world around him seemed to blur.

I can’t feel my legs… LeeKnow’s voice was panicked. His body trembled as he tried to move, but his limbs felt frozen.

Shit… It’s a trap, Chan realized too late, his stomach dropping. The sweet scent—the drugging, overpowering smell—it wasn’t just a random scent. It was a weapon.

Changbin! LeeKnow! Can you hear me?! Chan’s voice cracked with fear, the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream as he tried to move. His paws were heavy, his vision swimming. He had heard about this—heard the older Ummas in the village speak in hushed voices about poison or sedative gases. But never had he expected it to happen to them.

Changbin?! LeeKnow?! he cried out, his voice desperate, but there was no response. The two of them were collapsing, just as he was.

Chan felt his body buckle beneath him, his strength draining away as the toxin infiltrated his bloodstream. The world around him slowed to a crawl. His vision blurred, his eyes fluttering. The last thing he saw was a figure—human, but somehow otherworldly—moving toward him.

The figure knelt beside him, their face twisted into a mocking smirk. “Oh, the mighty alpha… can’t even protect his luna,” they said, their voice dripping with disdain.

Luna. The word hit him like a punch to the gut.

His heart skipped a beat. Y/N. She was out there, alone, and he couldn’t do anything.

Chan’s vision faded completely as the darkness claimed him. His body went limp, unconscious, the last coherent thought in his mind that Y/N was in danger.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“And so when we woke up, we searched for you everywhere,” Chan’s voice cracked as he spoke, his chest tightening with the weight of the memories. “Through the forest, the waterfall, everywhere we could think of, but your scent was so faint. The rogues—” he stopped, his breath shaky. “The rogues didn’t have any scent. We searched all day, non-stop, until we had no choice but to come back. The betas and omegas were freaking out. We were exhausted and starving.”

Chan’s eyes welled up with tears, his voice breaking. “I never stopped looking for you, Y/N. You have to believe me. I never gave up. I thought about you every second, every day... and I couldn’t stop searching for you.”

Y/N’s eyes glowed golden, a flash of anger and hurt in her gaze. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, the pain she had carried all this time surfacing. She had thought they weren’t looking for her, that they had abandoned her. The rogues had filled her head with lies, convincing her that no one was coming for her. But now, hearing Chan’s words, everything she had believed was shattering.

“So… so they set you guys up?” Y/N sniffled, her voice trembling as she looked up at the alpha sitting across from her. Chan was slouched on the couch, his sweatpants and black vest a stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” Chan said softly, his voice low with suppressed anger. “They did. And they had been planning on taking you.” He clenched his fists, the memory of the betrayal still raw. “When I found them—” he stopped, the words heavy on his tongue.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You... you killed them?” She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of relief and awe. For a moment, she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“Yes.” Chan nodded grimly. “After you came back and... after seeing what they had done to you, I couldn’t let them live. I tracked them down with Mark and the hyungs. We found their den, and we killed them.” He exhaled sharply, the memory of the violence still fresh in his mind. “I couldn’t let them walk away after what they did to you... not after what they did to us.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders trembling as the tears began to fall. The enormity of what Chan had done for her hit her like a ton of bricks. He had gone through so much, fought so hard—for her. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt flood her heart. She had been so focused on her own pain, on her own suffering, that she hadn’t once thought about what he had gone through. What he had endured.

“Channie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, the words barely leaving her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with regret.

Chan’s gaze softened. His hands trembled as he reached out toward her, but he hesitated, unsure if she would want him to touch her. “Please... don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Never apologize. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling faster. “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was awful to you. I thought you didn’t care. I thought you gave up on finding me, and... I just... I was in so much pain. I still am. I’m angry at the world, Channie. But I hope you can forgive me for everything.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t need you to forgive me,” Chan said softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. “I understand, my love. I know you were in a state... a state no one should have to endure. I don’t blame you. Not at all. I should’ve been there for you, even when you pushed me away. I should’ve stayed by your side.” His voice trembled as he spoke, and his eyes darkened with the guilt of not being able to protect her. “I just... I can’t see you in pain anymore. I want to help you heal.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she reached her hand out toward him. Chan looked at her, surprised, but then slowly he took her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, it was like electricity running through their veins. They were connected—alpha and omega—and this simple act of holding hands was enough to send a wave of relief through both of them.

“I don’t think you need to apologize either, Channie,” Y/N said, her voice more stable now, though still laced with sadness. “I think we both went through mentally and physically draining situations. I just... I can’t help but ask the Moon Goddess why. But I know she will have answers. I want to move forward. I want to put this behind us.” She paused, her chest tightening with emotion as she struggled to speak through her sobs. “I want to be a part of the pack again. I want to be normal.”

Chan pulled her into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around her as he held her close. He hoped she would let him, he hoped she would feel the comfort in his embrace. “I understand, my love. I ask the Moon Goddess every day why... but all I want is for you to heal. To feel better. I don’t want you to rush into anything, though. It gets overwhelming, but I’m right here. I promise.” He kissed her temple gently, letting the warmth of his affection seep into her.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. “I’m sorry about losing the pup, Channie.” She choked on her sobs, her words trembling with grief. “I tried to protect her. I tried to shield her from it all, but they just... they kept going.”

Chan’s heart shattered hearing her cry like this. He gently cupped both sides of her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. His voice was firm and full of love. “Baby, I will never blame you for that. Do you hear me? Never. It was not your fault. I know it hurts, but I pray you’ll understand that.”

Y/N’s heart was breaking, but she nodded, pressing closer to him. “I just... I just know it’ll be heavy to get past. I don’t think I’ll love another pup the way I loved her. She was our first…” She trailed off, her voice lost in the depth of her sorrow.

Chan held her tighter, his heart aching for her. “Time will heal us, my love. Everything will get better. I promise. We’ll get through this together.”

Y/N wiped the tears from his face as she pulled back slightly, her scent calming, though still tinged with sadness. She gave him a small, tender smile. “Thank you... for being here. For loving me through all of this.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes filled with devotion and hope for the future. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. No matter what.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan finally felt like he could breathe again. After everything they’d been through, after the pain, the misunderstandings, and the distance—he had finally reconnected with his luna. They had talked it all out, and in that moment, something inside him shifted. The weight he’d carried for so long—worry, guilt, fear—began to lift. He no longer feared that she might hate him, or that the rift between them would be impossible to mend.

He could finally sleep tonight, he thought, with peace in his heart.

His hand moved gently to trace circles on her arm, the motion soothing both of them. He didn’t know how long they’d been lying there, but it felt like time had slowed, like nothing else existed in the world but the quiet warmth of her presence.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His heart pounded in his chest, the words carrying everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes soft and full of tenderness, her expression mirroring his. “I love you too, my love.” Her voice was steady, but there was a catch in it—a vulnerability that made Chan’s chest tighten with affection.

And then, in that quiet, intimate space between them, Chan’s eyes welled up with tears.

All the anger, the frustration, the guilt, and the sadness that had consumed him for so long seemed to melt away in a single moment. With Y/N’s love, with her forgiveness, all the heavy emotions that had weighed down on him for so long evaporated.

She was back in his arms—officially—and nothing in the world could have felt more right.

Chan felt her warmth against him, her heartbeat steady and calm, and he realized with a deep breath that he would do whatever it took to help her grieve, to help her heal. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He wasn’t going to lose her again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: i think its time to end this mini series guysss >_<

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[reysdriver]

Party Planners | E.M.

You and Eddie discuss your ideas for bachelor and bachelorette parties, and your limits — eddie x fem!reader fluff with a hint of angst

warnings: a little angsty, worries about boundaries, mentions of sex work (not in detail at all)

words: 0.9k

“Okay, I’ll see you soon, Nance. I’m so excited! Bye!” Were your last words before hanging up the phone and walking out of the room with a giant smile across your face. 

You walked downstairs and found your fiancé on the couch watching cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal. He turned around after hearing the sound of your footsteps and immediately noticed your grin. 

“What’s got you all smiley?” He asked, already knowing most of it since the walls of the trailer were extremely thin, but wanting to hear you talk about it anyways. 

“I was on the phone with Nancy.” You sat down with Eddie, still smiling. “We were planning for the bachelorette party.”

He scooped up a spoonful of cereal and nodded. “Ah, so that’s what all the giggling was about.”

“It’s exciting stuff, Eds. You know too ‘cause you have your party coming up too.”

“I do, but it doesn’t sound as cutesy and fun as your party. What do you ladies have planned, exactly?”

You were reluctant to tell Eddie all of your plans. You weren’t hiding anything. In fact, it was a relatively calm plan as far as bachelorette parties go. Honestly, you just weren’t all too familiar with the concept of bachelorette parties and you weren’t sure how customary it was for the couple to tell each other in advance. 

Maybe it was like the way the groom isn’t allowed to see the bride’s dress before the wedding. But ultimately you decided that you would risk any potential bad luck for Eddie. 

You cuddled up against him, and Eddie put his bowl on the coffee table so he would wrap his arms around you. 

“We’re gonna go to Nancy’s place, she’s gonna make lunch and we’re gonna pregame a little while watching some John Hughes movies. Then we’re gonna go bar hopping until we get tired or one of us throws up.”

“Sounds fun.” Eddie shrugged. “Not as fun as my party with the guys, though.”

He was clearly leading you to ask more questions, so you followed along and did what he wanted. 

“And what are you boys planning?”

“I can’t tell you that! It’s bad luck.”

You rolled your eyes, yet he couldn’t even see them since your head was resting on his chest. “I told you! We already have bad luck if that’s true.”

“Well, I still can’t tell you. But it’ll be wild. You’ll hear about it when I come back home hungover and still on a high the next day.”

Eddie didn’t answer any further, just turned his gaze back to the screen across the room, watching the children’s cartoons he was playing because it was the best thing on when he sat down.

You told Eddie your plans, so why wasn’t he telling you his? Neither of you were leaving the city for the parties because of your budget, so you wondered what he could have planned. 

Your mind started going to dark places, imagining your fiancé going absolutely crazy during his bachelor party, and you didn’t like the mental image you had just conjured. 

“Eddie?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

He hummed in response and loosened his arms so you could turn yourself around in his lap and look at him in his mesmerising brown eyes. 

“I know we said we wouldn’t really have input on each other’s parties but can I make one request about yours?”

Eddie looked confused, but willing to listen and oblige nevertheless. “Yeah, what is it, baby?”

“No hookers.”

“What?” 

Eddie looked stunned, not expecting your answer. That detail only worried you more. Before you even started to elaborate, tears rimmed your eyes even though you were trying to be stern yet kind. 

“I know they’re kind of a bachelor party staple, but I’ve never liked the idea, and I don’t really want you doing anything with other women. Strippers, I think—”

Eddie cut you off as he could see you becoming closer and closer to crying with each word. 

“Sweetheart, I promise that wasn’t at all a part of the plan. I would never want that either.”

“Really?” You pouted. 

“Really. We were just going to get super wasted at The Hideout and then roleplay Lord of the Rings.”

A breath of relief escaped your lungs. It’s not that you didn’t trust Eddie, you were just worried that there was a difference in your visions for how you would commemorate the last bit of time before getting married. 

Eddie gently combed his fingers through your hair, pressing a few kisses on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just teasing.” Eddie apologised softly. “Honestly, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. You’re the only woman I have eyes for.”

While Eddie was apologising, you took the time to gaze into his adorable button eyes—the eyes you hoped your children would have some day. For each second you watched him talk, you grew more appreciative of how sensitive and genuine he was being. 

“You’re so sweet.” You told him honestly. 

“You’re sweeter.” He replied just as sincerely. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

[burningcheese-merchant]

Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.

You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol

Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?

Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:

Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol

Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union

Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well

Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her

Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others

In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)

[creachiergh]

guys, guys, guys. jax isn't an npc; he's a game dev/mod who got trapped in the circus.

i'm sure someone has already put forth this theory, but with the series still being in its early stages, it's hard to say exactly which direction it's going. while i don't think the npc theory is bad, i think it lacks a foundation and is more so the fandom's attempt to justify jax's moral greyness or give him depth where there currently isn't any. i just wanted to share some of my own thoughts about what his deal might be.

firstly, his design, which is honestly just my own speculation but bear with me. i know goose made some jokes about his clothes being farmer's overalls, but when i look at him, i almost get mechanic vibes? like if he wasn't such a prick, he'd be in charge of fixing any bugs that crop up during the adventures, which is pretty much what a moderator does.

speaking of which, he has keys to all the rooms, which is already pretty sketchy in itself, but it makes sense if you consider that he helped make the circus. naturally, he'd have them on hand in case he needed to access any areas of potential danger. to me, it's a bit like having cheat codes, which definitely gives him an upper hand above the other circus members. (but again, it's not like he's ever going to do his job.)

there's also the "figurine thing," which is probably either a throwaway joke or a thinly-veiled attempt at foreshadowing the npcs-- since their models resemble figurines-- but it's still worth noting. if we assume that the "figurine thing" is referring to the npcs-- which it probably isn't, but again, bear with me-- then it shows just how much jax knows about the circus. as far as i remember, none of the other characters have ever brought up the outside of the map, but obviously, if jax made the game, he's going to know its layouts and inner workings like the back of his hand. i won't go so far as to say he's all-knowing, but i'm sure he knows a lot more than he lets on, and i have a feeling we're going to see that in later episodes.

if he really can predict caine's adventures and whatnot, since he designed them, it explains why he's so unfazed by everything that happens at the circus, from zooble getting taken by the gloinks to running into the gloink queen. the only time he really seems to be surprised is when the game glitches-- when the one gloink started bugging out, when kaufmo abstracted, etc.

i think the mod theory explains jax's personality and motivations. when he first arrived at the circus, there might've been a time when he acted more responsibly, fixing all the bugs, trying to stop the abstractions, etc. he could've been caine's right-hand at keeping everything under control. but maybe he slowly gave up these responsibilities when he realized that people were going to get abstracted no matter what, as we can see from the crossed-off doors in the pilot. it's very possible that he became consumed by his mod privileges when he began acting more recklessly and faced zero repercussions for his actions. essentially, he's a step above everyone else in terms of knowledge, awareness, and grants of power-- probably just below caine on the power ladder, though pomni could also rival him as she comes to learn more about the circus. depending on how jax uses his abilities, he could either help everyone find the exit or slowly lead them towards abstraction, and given what goose has said about the future of the series, it's not looking very optimistic for anyone involved.

but what do i know? this theory could be completely nonsensical and riddled with plot holes. i just like to hyperanalyze jokes 🥲

[quotidian-oblivion]

ok. fine. guys. Full disclosure.

I was a superman hater. Like I hated that guy. Big blue boy scout? All noble and never does any wrong? Beefy and handsome all brawn? Gets defeated by any semblance of brains? All of his fights consist of him smashing things around and yelling and grunting?

Nah. Don't like him.

But

But.

MAWS? Yeah no, I've seen like only four episodes and I already am a Superman LOVER is what I am now. Like that is characterization to the best!

LIKE YES! ANIME MAGICAL GIRL SUPERMAN? THAT IS EXACTLY WHO SUPERMAN SHOULD BE. HE IS A MAGICAL ANIME GIRL WITH THE SAME PERSONALITY AND AWKWARDNESS EXCEPT IN WHITE BOY FLAVOR. GIMME. NOM.

Handsome body, but cutie patootie face is exactly what he should look like. And a big damn softie and Good Person is what he should be on the inside and outside. I don't want him mean or confident or ugh Noble. I want him a little bit gullible and a little bit innocent, and I want him to be Confident in a way where he's confident in himself and feels comfortable with himself. And I want him to have a noble heart, not be Noble.

You get me? That is good characterization.

And him being THE most awkward and stuttery little buff cutie guy? Yes. That is exactly who Clark Kent is. Superman is Clark Kent's disguise. Clark Kent should not be Superman's disguise. Because Ma and Pa ain't raise no Superman nah, they raised a son. And Clark Kent is a son. Superman is a sun (to the people of Metropolis and also gets his powers from the sun, didja get the pun? OH MY GOD THAT RHYMED).

AND LOIS LANE?

OH DO NOT EVEN.

THAT IS A WOMAN WRITTEN RIGHT. LIKE YES SHE HAS HUMAN FAULTS WHERE SHE LEARNS TO OVERCOME THEM! YES SHE ISNT GIRLY BUT SHE ISNT COMPLETELY TOMBOY EITHER BUT COMFORTABLE IN HER OWN SKIN! YES SHE GETS EQUALLY FLUSTERED JUST LIKE CLARK AND ISNT ARROGANT OR LOOKING DOWN AT CLARK IN FAVOR OF SUPERMAN! YES SHE IS A STUBBORN LITTLE GAL PAL WHO NEVER GIVES UP BUT ALSO KNOWS WHEN IT IS RIGHT TO DO SO!

AND FUCK YES SHE FIGURED OUT WHO SUPERMAN IS HERSELF BECAUSE SHE IS AN INDEPENDENT AMAZING WOMAN WITH BRAINS!

And don't even get me started on Jimmy. I like that he actually is there and not pushed aside like he always is 😭 Please, I love Jimmy and I love that he and Lois are like besties so far. I really hope nothing bad happens to his friendship with the other two, I can already see him third-wheeling.

Also, I will never shut up about how the best characterisation I've seen of Superman in ages is him being a magic anime girl. He's a special little flower.

ALSO CAN I JUST SAY THAT HOW MA IS THE ONE TO GIVE HIM THE UNDERWEAR ABOVE THE SUIT BECAUSE I SUDDENLY HAVE A DEEP RESPECT FRO THE SHORTS NOW BECAUSE MA MADE IT WITH HER BARE FUCKING HANDS WHICH ARE HARDENED BY THE LOVE AND WORK SHE DOES FOR HER LITTLE BOY.

[demonpiratehuntress]

Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.

You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.

She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.

And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.

Thank you.

sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!

taglist - @kabloswrld

someone's gotta do it

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.

A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.

You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.

You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.

These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.

"But it looks cool!"

"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.

Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.

"She's new."

An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.

That and he was shirtless.

You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.

"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.

You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."

The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"

Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."

You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.

Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.

"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.

"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."

"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.

You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."

He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."

You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.

"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."

"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."

He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."

His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.

"Someone's gotta do it."

He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."

Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."

"A noble cause," he agreed.

You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"

And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.

Maybe you could also do it for you.

a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!

[romanarose]

Joel Takes a Strap

Written for Married Joel sits on you 2024 by the amazing @beefrobeefcal !!!

Joel Miller x trans!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Joel takes a strap.... send tweet.

Warnings: sex toys, praise, body worship

Immersivity: Reader is trans and able bodied. Reader has had top surgury.

A/N: promt via Beef, must include this line "Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline."

A/N 2: My taglist is back!!! follow the link to join <3

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

It was a life few people really understood. Jackson was pretty open minded, considering there were bigger things to worry about than gay shit. Still, in 2003 someone being trans was pretty much the punchline to a joke if you knew what it was at all. So, when a transman came to Jackson, it wasn't exactly the warmest welcome.

Joel would like to think he'd have always been kind and welcoming. Maybe not the friendliest guy, but still. Joel didn't care what anyone chose to do to themselves, but he thought of Ellie. He thought of how she'd been treated at the tipsy bison that night, and Dina, Joels now-daughter in-law-... he wasn't able to be a safe person for her to come out to during that time but he wanted to be safety for someone else.

He had no idea you'd become his safe place as well.

Joel wished he could have been there for Ellie to come out the way she was ready to, but then things turned around. He'd repaired their relationship in a lot of ways, and now... now she was the one he came out to when he started seeing you. The ceremony had been small, little JJ as the ringbarrer.

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and relation ship with Ellie improved and he seemed over all a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.

This, however was not a drawback to you. When the world fell apart, if someone had an ounce of fat on their body, they were called obese, torn apart on the covers of grocery store magazines... but you saw Joel's weight gain as something beautiful. It meant he was safe. He was relaxed. He wasn't on the run. He was yours.

And you got a surprise for him.

You had made sue to clean it, and clean it good... but you had found a strap on while out, and were ready to use it on Joel. Joel was more inclined to top, but that didn't mean you didn't take control sometimes. He regularly takes several fingers up that cute-but-flat ass of his, and today you'd prepped him well, making sure to add lots of vasiline to the strap to ease him.

Now, Joel Miller had his legs spread across your lap as you sat on the edge of the couch, covering above your strap.

"You don't gotta do nothing you don't wanna." You reassure him.

Joel shakes his head, murmuring as he looks down. "It ain't that... I just don't wanna crush yuh, s'all."

You can't help smile at that. "You won't Joel. I love feeling you on me, l love the weight. You're fuck'n perfect."

And he smiles at that. Soft, but he smiles.

So you tease him. "Better take it now, I know Maria wants a turn for Tommy."

Joel visibly cringed at that, but laughed and the tension was gone from the room. Joel was happy, you were happy, and he had the support of his family. What everyone else thought didn't matter.

When Joel sinks down on you, feeling the weight of him push you into the couch cushions, you can't help but smile and feel his hands grip your shoulders.

"Good boy..." You praise the old man whose boyhood was far behind him. "Take my cock... just like that" If Joel was a boy, the strap is your cock. Who cares. In moments like these you can forget all the horrors of the outside world, forget reality.

"So fucking hot..." Breathy, Joel praises you back as he takes the whole strap up inside him. His hand goes to your chest, palm paying no mind to the surgery scares. "My handsome husband."

"Mmmmm... My handsome husband..."

Joel begins to move up and down, bouncing on you, his thick thighs working hard as he fucks himself. His cock slaps against your stomach. "Wanna make you cum too... how does... does that w-work?" You can see him bit his lip, pleasure filling his body.

You take his hard, leaking member in your hand, stroking him after you spit.

"Don't worry about that. We'll figure things out as he go, right now i just want you to focus on feeling good, Joel. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy and cum?"

Joel nods, a little curl falling on his forehead that is begining to sweat.

"yeah, I can do that... I can feel good... your cock feels good... I can feel good."

You love when he gets like this, lets go and lets his subby inner nature come out.

"I bet you can, Joel. I know it."

Thank you all so so much for reading!!!!

Want more trans content?

I wrote About a Girl which is Joel and tranfem reader and You'd Love me if I was a Worm, Would You Love me if I was A Man? which is reader transmasc reader coming out to santi and Big Boys Dont Cry which is trans reader AND trans santi

I hope to write a santi and trans reader series soon

How to keep up with my work?

Follow @romana-updates

ask to join my taglist

join my tumblr community

follow me on ao3 @romana_rose

Love you! hope to see more from Beefro's event!!!

[sgiandubh]

Last minute Swifties

Contrary to what many thought and some posted, I do think the OL cast's Taylor Swift experience was a last minute promo idea, very much monitored by *** and Tall Ships. I was wrong about minder/security guy (still, eerie...) and I never have a problem publicly admitting it. But quite unlikely I am wrong about this one. And sorry for the length, but you know how I am when I am looking for something, right?

Let's unpack: cast thanked the 'organizers' (and minders, really) in very specific terms, leaving NO much doubt:

Louisa McCulloch. Remember this name, we shall meet her in one hot minute. So thank you Louisa and Maril for organizing this: ask yourselves why did Maril, who (as far as I know) is based in the US, have to come to Edinburgh just for the gig. Damage control, perhaps?

And Sophie S., with a remarkable choice of words:

'Thank you ***, TS and her team for making it happen'. In my book, this means a strong, common effort to secure the box last minute. Because 'making it happen' means exactly that: 'need to do everything you can to facilitate it'.

Clearly Skelton, who is a Swiftie in her own right, was particularly appreciative of the efforts it took to ensure everyone could attend the concert. If that were a long planned event, her enthusiasm would have been more temperate, I think. 'Adding more Swifties to the clan' - LOL, Sophie, you mean S and C had no idea of the lyrics and were unable to sing along with you, John Bell, Izzy and Co (I keep forgetting their names and I like them a lot, in the show)? People of my generation are already too damn old for Taylor S. And this different sort of music might be more of S's real preference: otherwise why post it in his stories, as if to say ' TS is a different thing altogether'?

James. A Manchester rock band, formed in 1982, popular in the Nineties. I see no lies: he was clear 'JAMMF is a Swiftie'. And we are, after all, Children of the Nineties, not TS's crowd. And yes, I knew S was into the same kind of music as I was, in the Nineties (he seems to have stayed put, right there, unlike me, LOL):

Anyways, back to the mysterious woman up and front on three pictures in a row, that got many speculating. Nope, that was not Wendy, the MUA and S's bestie:

Once...

... Twice...

... Three times a lady:

Her name is Louisa McCulloch, née Radcliffe and she is the one S thanked, along with Maril (see above). It was a bit hard finding her, because her IG account is private. But I found her alright on Facebook, and then LinkedIn (of course):

Based in Lockerbie, Scotland. 20 years experience as a media publicist:

Worked with *** and Tall Ships since Season 3, after a short stint as Head of Publicity at the Paramount Pictures London Office. Got promoted from Unit Publicist to Publicist during COVID, for Season 6. So yes, she is the one who made it happen, locally, on what I think was a quite short notice.

Attention successfully diverted. Impeccable timing and giving a younger crowd what it wants. Trying to capitalize on TS's huge Instagram fan base: 283 million followers (wow! I had no fucking idea she was so huge). A win-win situation for just about everyone and an elegant way out from sordid waters:

And it worked. Lost among the hundred of thousands of likes and comments, look who's jumping on the bandwagon:

Sharon Stone. With a Blue Check and her 3.9 million Instagram fanbase. A Nineties deity, need I remind you (this blogger spotted her during the Berlinale 2007, while I was going out for drinks, blissfully unaware we were all staying at The Adlon, LOL)?

They mutually follow each other on Insta, by the way. I wonder why *urv did not pounce on that one. I feel robbed, for once, of a wonderful fanfic.

[Later edit] Several comments take on this person without a proper justification. I am editing this post to remind you she is only responsible for the implementation (in Scotland) of decisions taken elsewhere (in the United States of America). She is NOT a decision maker and as Publicist, was probably responsible for the local implementation of a hasty decision to attend an event (secure VIP box at Murrayfield, sell content to the local press). The direct contact with TS's team was, very likely, Maril and upwards, in the hierarchy. In all fairness, she has nothing to do with a billboard spotted in Los Angeles, USA - nothing of the sort in Europe. I am all for taxing, but let's tax people who are really RESPONSIBLE: she is just a very well paid underling. Thank you all, I am sure you understand fairness can only add to our credibility as a group.

[loving-azerath]

One night Stand

With Captain Price

You were bored.

Bored to tears.

Every day was the same. You woke up at a too early of a time. Your body craving more sleep and a body beside you. You would make your coffee at home, tricking yourself into believing you were saving money doing so. When you knew that you would just buy a coffee later on in the day.

You would work, a shift that bored you to tears just as much. You fucking hated it but it was either this or being homeless and that was simply something you couldn't do.

It was a boring life. You had tried to date. You really gave it all, but with all of the fuck boys that didn't take time to get you ready. The toxic assholes who has made you cry far more times than you would ever admit. You were bored of that too.

You needed something.

It wasn't like you to go to a bar. No, and you weren't stupid. You knew better than to go by yourself. Roping in your best friend. One who had way more experience with the scene. One that you knew you could count on.

She had helped you style everything. Knowing the bar ahead of time and what outfits went with the occasion. She had this down to a science. "Okay now hair down- men like to see how long your hair is. They wanna know if they can pull it" She says, you chuckle taking the clawclip out of your hair and letting it fall around your shoulders. You didn't hate your reflection. It just wasn't what you were used to. Yet that was the point of tonight. To get out of your comfort zone.

So you continued.

She drove you guys to the bar. Since she was going to be showing you how to let lose and keeping you safe in this spot, she didn't plan on drinking. Though she never seemed to need to drink to be the life of any party. She was fun that way.

The bar was busy tonight. Men in uniforms, men in grudge looking pieces, men dressed like they belonged at a frat. Various different kinds though none seemed to catch your own attention.

Well- that was a lie. You were more attracted to the frat guys. It was part of the reason every fucking interaction with any man had been so disappointing. You knew that. You were attracted to the assholes who only wanted a place to put their dick in. So you pretended not to be interested. Letting your friend drag you to the bar and ordering you the first drink of the night. A tequila shot.

"You look tense- this will help. Don't drink too much tonight. If you do meet a guy that you wanna fuck you wanna make sure you aren't too drunk for it to be skivvy" She says, you chuckle, rolling your eyes but mentally noting her comment.

"Are any of these guys regulars?" You ask her, she looks around shaking her head.

"No- but fuck do I see someone I wanna make a regular" She says practically drooling. You follow her eyeline. Watching it land on a group. You couldn't tell who she was looking at. There were four of them. Sitting around a table with a pint of beer in front of them half empty. It was where you could tell the smell of tobacco was coming from. As one of them had a cigarette between his gloved fingers, a mask pulled up above his nose. Then another in a black beanie and black weather jacket. a cigar resting in his hand.

The other two weren't smoking, chuckling between themselves. you watch as one stands up, dark skin and short coiled hair. He backs up from the table heading to the bar. She follows him with her eyes. So he was who she wanted. He leans against the counter, putting a signal up to the bartender who seems to understand exactly what he wants.

"You're new around here" Your friend says to him, he looks at her smiling slightly before nodding.

"I am. You notice every bloke that comes into a place like this?" He asks, her eyes seem to widen.

"Fuck and your british. Fuck me up" She says, he chuckles

"Get that a lot round here." He admits "Though it's from no one who looks like you darlin"

She smiles at him, looking up at him through lashes with a look you have seen her give a thousand times. She extends her hand.

"I'm Vivian" She introduces herself, he takes it.

"You can call me Gaz" He replies back

It was like you were watching a movie you wanted to insert yourself in so badly. Not that you could. You just watched, knocking back another shot before looking around the room for anyone. Anyone who might have their eyes on you. There weren't lack of them either. Just none you wanted to waste a night with.

"I send you over here to get a drink and you find a friend" A gruff also british voice says, You look making eye contact with the man in the beanie. Your stomach flops. He's older, gruff looking, hot for no reason at all.

"Sorry Cap, I am a sucker for a pretty little thing with blue eyes" He says looking back to Vivian.

"Cap? You guys military?" You ask, you don't know why you do. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to talk to you. He nods at you, once again meeting your eye.

"Affirmative. Just here for the weekend." He answers

"Pleasure or business" You ask

"Business. Finished now" He tells you "You ladies from here? Or is it a holiday?"

"From here." You say, it seemed like such trivial conversation though the eye contact made your stomach move in ways you haven't felt from previous interacts with men before.

You don't know how it happened throughout the night. When they invited you to join them, when you were watching Vivian make heart eyes at every man at that table though her attention remained mainly on Gaz. You learned the others names. Soap, the only Scottish man at the table. His mohawk needing to be touched up a bit but he was good looking. And Ghost. The silent one who had uttered maybe five words the entire time. It wasn't until midnight when you realized how much time had flown by. Small flirtations towards Captain who you now knew as John.

Vivian and Gaz left to fuck in the bathroom at around 1 am. Soap making out with a random chick against a wall which left Ghost and Price. Ghost being the watch dog you observed. Keeping an eye on the door.

A glass was dropped, shattering and you notice both men reach for their hip. The outline of a holstered weapon grabbing your attention. It made your thighs squeeze together and you almost mentally kick yourself for it.

"Just a glass" Ghost says, John nods putting his hand back on his lap, his finger tapping against it.

"You don't seem like this is what you fancy a night out, darlin" John says, you look up at him. Shrugging.

"It's not- I needed something different. Sick of the same thing. Sick of the same...men" You say, he nods clicking his tongue

"What type of men would that be?" He asks leaning towards you slightly. You swallow hard.

"Men who just want something to stick their dick in for the night. Not that I don't like a good one night stand but fuck at least try to let me enjoy myself" You say, it could be the tequila. You wanna blame it on the tequila.

He chuckles

"What makes you think I'm not just like them?" He asks, you chew on the inside of your cheek.

"Are you?" You ask tilting your head to the side. He smirks, chuckling slightly.

"Wanna find out?" He asks

Yes. Yes you fucking did.

So that might be how it happened. How you ended up agreeing to let him take you back to your place. How you didn't end up half way through the door before his hands were on you. His lips were on you. His didn't kiss like the men you were used to. He was hungry but he knew what he was doing. His hands were rough and calloused but fuck did they feel good grabbing at you. Holding you against him. Pinning you against the closest wall. Your arms wrapping around his neck as he trails hot kisses from your lips to your jawline. To your collar bone, then teasing at the hem of your dress's bodice.

"Which way is your bedroom, sweetheart?" He whispers against your neck as he goes back up. You whimper at the feeling. Fuck did he know what he was doing. You pointed to the direction. Grabbing his hanging dog tags around his neck.

"Let me show you" You whispered

So you did, almost dragging him by the tags if he hadn't been following so close behind you. As soon as you closed the bedroom door he was on you again. Grabbing your face with his two hands and walking you back to your bed until your knees hit the edge. Falling back on it. Though he doesn't fall with you. No, this man just bends over with a practiced ease that flooded you. Pulling you by your legs further down slightly to angle you where he wanted. Lifting your skirt.

"If you need me to stop-" he kisses your thigh "If I do something wrong" He loops his fingers around the hem of your panties "Tell me and I'll stop"

He pulls them off. He didn't give you time to reply before he latched himself onto your clit. Pulling a noise from you that you didn't recognize.

"That's it pretty girl, let me hear you" He mumbles against you. He laps you up like this man hasn't eaten in days. You were gripping the sheets around you and staring down at him as he devours your cunt. Panting through pleasure you haven't had before. His grip on your thighs to hold them open was almost a bruising pressure but you didn't seem to mind this time.

"Fuck- John" You gasp your head tilting back

"Mhm- that's right love say my name. Tell me how good I'm making you feel. One of his hands leaves your thigh, teasing your entrance and even that was sending you close to the edge.

"Fuck- yes right there. John fuck-please it feels so fucking good" You say so lewdly you don't even know if it's your voice anymore. He listens, letting his finger slide in and pumping in and out of you until you are spasming around his finger. Your eyes rolling back as curses and his name fall from your lips.

You were still panting, but he doesn't waste time. Unbuckling his pants and lifting your legs onto his shoulders. Almost bending you in half, pressing your knees against your chest. He doesn't put it in yet. Just slides himself through your folds. Wetting his length. You buck your hips trying to guide him into you but he just tsks at you.

"Gotta go slow for this part darlin, don't wanna hurt you" He says, you don't get it. Not until the tip hits your entrance and you realize. This man is fucking huge.

"Oh my go-" You don't finish as it turns into a whine as he pushes through. Slowly but every inch is sending you further into the stars. He backs out a couple of times starting again and it has you panting under him.

"Good girl- just breathe. Almost there" He tells you, he finally sinks fully into you. Groaning at the feeling of your wet walls clenching around him. Accustoming to his size. The first thrust has you literally seeing stars and the gasp that comes out of you almost has him in a chokehold.

He pace is brutal, but fuck does it feel good. The air around you filled with the sounds of your bodies slapping together and how wet you are made it sound so fucking pornographic you were in awe that this was you. Making a sticky fucking mess of his cock.

"You are so god damn wet- so fucking tight. This what you needed baby? To be fucked properly?" He asks you just nod because you are so fucked dumb what are words anyway.

Every thrust left you gripping for sheets, for heaven, for him. Finding his dog tags again and yanking it down. He groans deeply moving a hand to your throat. He doesn't squeeze and for a moment you were kind of afraid. Though it subsided almost as soon as you saw the absolute pleasure written on his face. The subtle pressure on the sides of your neck makes you dizzy but in the best way.

He was slamming against you, the combination of your moans together was filling your ears and imprinting itself in your brain. The same way he was imprinting his cock into your walls.

"Fucking hell...you're taking it so fucking well for me baby" He says, you almost lose your fucking mind. It was the most back arching, sheet gripping, mind blowing sex you had ever had and you weren't sure you would recover from it.

You couldn't even tell how much time was passing. Just that every second, every minute felt like you were floating. Like you were made for nothing but this and you didn't want to be anything else.

He slows, letting your legs down and massaging your aching hips for a moment before moving you. Manhandling you to bend over the bend. Your back arched so prettily for him over your bed. He presses your face into the mattress by holding you by the neck. Re-aligning himself. Pushing in was easier this time but you felt everything so much more. He doesn't begin right away grabbing your wrist with his free hand and moving it under you. Tapping you soaking clit with his fingers.

"Come on, tight little circles for me. Be good for me. I wanna feel you cum on this fat fucking dick" He says, you listen because you wanted it to.

His thrusts were just as unforgiving in this position. Though he was hitting your spots just right from it. Forcing you to climb a lot faster than you thought you could like this. He could feel it. He growled and moaned as he could feel you slowly tightening around him. Slowly losing your breath and your moans turning into something far more feral.

"Fuck- fuck oh my fucking god John. I'm going to fucking cum please please don't fucking stop" You didn't know who was talking, you didn't recognize the words or your voice but it was you. It was the bitch in heat he was turning you into. His hand leaves your neck moving to the base of your scalp where he pulls you off the bed and against his chest. Your hand still working those tight little circles sending waves of goosebump causing pleasure. A tight arm wrapping around you to keep you in place and release some pressure from your hair. His fingers spread across your abdomen and the size of his hand was enough to fuck you up.

It sent you. Off the cliff that seemed to only be safe because of his hand wrapped around you. You shook against him, eyes rolling back so hard you thought they would live there. Practically screaming his name as your hand comes down to his hips, digging your nails into his skin.

He growls but its not in anger. He's close. Proof in his stuttering hips and more panty type groans.

Finally he cums, filling you so full that you could feel the pressure of it. Both taking a moment as he pants through his orgasm and you pant through coming down from yours. He pulls out of you and you can feel him leak down your thighs and normally it would annoy you. But this time you thought it was the hottest fucking thing.

He stays the night. Though he isn't there by the time you wake up. A notecard with his phone number on your nightstand. You smirk down at it and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You now found a new craving. Not only for him. But for older men. For larger men. For men that knew what they were doing. He had ruined you. Ruined you for those shitty frat boys and toxic assholes. And you were so fucking okay with that.

[iminseriousdebt]

GENLOSS RAMBLE

Heyo! This is a little ramble I needed to make before the founders cut comes out!  yipee!

(GENERATION LOSS SPOILERS)

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So we can see in the above images the methods Showfall Media is using to control gl!Sneeg gl!Charlie and gl!Ranboo, they use an already pre-existing technology called an Electroencephalogram (EEG). Now this technology has been in use for decades, and essentially how it works is that it uses electrodes placed onto your scalp combined with a conductive gel to measure the electrical activity in your brain, these electrical signals are usually referred to as “brain waves” and these brainwaves can be subdivided into four categories, Gamma (greater than 30 Hz), Beta (13-30 Hz), Alpha (8-12 Hz), Theta (3.5-7.5 Hz), and Delta (0.1-3.5 Hz)

These different brainwaves are generally assosiated with different emotions, awareness levels, brain activities, etc. Now if Showfall Media has installed these onto sneeg, charlie, and ranboo, that means they have access to their thoughts and feelings, but brainscanning isn’t an absolute precise device, it still takes a lot of human effort and time to properly interpret the brainwaves. If Showfall somehow had a tool to easily interpret the signals they could much more easily operate, say, a live show. Lucky for them there is already a real life solution to this problem, kinda.

Its called Brain Generative Pre-Training Transformer, or BrainGPT for short.  What its goal is, is to act as an assist tool for human neurologists to use in real neuroscience cases and case studies, what it does is it uses a Large Language Model (LLM) full of pre-existing human research papers and other neuroscience knowledge too vast for human comprehension. And whenever a neurologist hands BrainGPT a prompt, (such as anomalous finding or to asses the fields understanding of a certain topic) , “would generate likely data patterns reflecting its current synthesis of the scientific literature”  (braingpt.org)

Now in regards to Generation Loss, what this means is that Showfall Media potentially has acces to this sort of technology, and would be able to use it in the production of their shows, now BrainGPT has a good way to go before its widely avalable. But in the genloss au, it can be far into development at this point, and be available for companies to use in whatever way they see fit.

Now reading and decoding brain signals is one thing, but to mind control someone is far beyond what is capable today, but Showfall Media has somehow developed technology to do so, the way I’m guessing they did it is that they produced certain brainwaves from the electrodes on the actors heads to give them the emotional reactions they needed for the show. I can’t exactly get into the technical stuff cause I’m not a neurologist, but its just a hunch on how I think they did it.

As for the mind controlling devices themselves, I feel there’s a more subtextual reason as to why those objects in particular are chosen as the devices that are central to the show’s operation. Ranboo’s mask has been a heavy emphasis throughout Gen 1 TSE,

Its been a central figure in not only generation loss’ marketing, but also ranboo’s marketing, because when you think of ranboo one of the first things that pops up is the mask, atleast in the wider public’s eye.

But these general associations not only exist with Ranboo, with Slimcicle you usually think of the wide brim glasses, with Sneeg its his backwards cap, and this is with the other cast members too when their introduced on the spinning carousel in episode 2. Furthermore, with Niki it’s that’s she's just so nice, with Austin its that he’s just a gay guy,  and with Vinny and Ethan these associations don’t really exist. So, with Vinny he's just the “hoarder”, and Ethan isn't even introduced. And then there's Jerma, who is relinquished to a goofy character with a weird voice and a strange sense of humour which sort of fits his public image.

But what I wanna mention with Ranboo’s mask specifically is that with the three images shown on the genloss twitter of the control devices, sneeg’s is just a hat, like theres nothing special about it, just a hat with electrodes on it, when you take it off he’s completely in control of himself. But, with charlie’s it’s a good bit harder to just take it off. His glasses are drilled into his skull connected to electrodes which are also implanted in his skull, with an additional feature of a speaker in his jaw. But if you remove the glasses, there would be a lot of bleeding and his vision would be impaired, but he would still be a free man.

But with Ranboo, poor, poor, Ranboo… Like Charlie, they have electrodes implanted on to their brain connected to a switch on the back of their skull (which also may or may not also be connected to their spine, idk its hard to tell). These sprout wires that thread through the mask and lead into their throat, and the mask piece itself is sewn shut onto their SKIN.

Now this makes me wonder, why is Ranboo so heavily guarded when the other are (relatively) easy to set free? Is it because Ranboo is an integral part of the show and therefore high risk? Is it because Showfall needed extra resources for the chat to be able to control them?... Or is it because Ranboo tried to escape so many times before that they were forced to disfigure them to such an extreme degree, and yet somehow, SOMEHOW, they are able to resist, whether it be tapping SOS on their hand when they're on full control mode or shanking a Showfall employee with a dagger, Ranboo, Resists. But Showfall will never let them leave. Or they will? Idk founders cut hasn’t come out yet as of writing this, anyway ramble over. You can leave now.

[mihwee]

"I just wanna eat him up."

Siyun Baek x M! Reader

SYS: You were staying over at Baek siyuns house, — Due to some unfortunate circumstances. your shirt JUST had to get wet. And it just had to rain. Whats up with these coincidences?

Well..Your both men right? Theres no need to worry. A little nap would be fine...

TAGS: NSFW. Blowjob, handjob, Deepthroath, dirty talk, Slight-ish taboo. CNC, Cum play, Cock Play. (He sucks ur cock when ur slesping 🔥 summary)

Warning: CNC. Harsh/explicit language as said, He does naughty stuff to your balls when ur over there pretending to be snoring (LMAOO) if your uncomfortable with that, you can leave. again MALE READER. no one is strictly top here so.....

MINORS UNDER 14 DNI. MINORS UNDER 16 DO NOT REQUEST. DNI :(fujoshis, Fudans alligned.)

Setting: His bed

A.N: Hey guys~ ive been gone for so long.... sordy~ busy with shs

By the way, you can request anything! Ive been catching up to the trendy manhwas these days, and trust me. Im not that picky when it comes to fantasies lolll . My friend just reccomended me this manhwa, and i told her im not really interested in romance. Pfft, the look on her face if she ever sees my account would be astronomical...

Siyun quietly sat on the bed. Staring intently at your sleeping figure. "Asleep already?" He thought, He hasnt even been out for 10 minutes. He hums, his fingers brushing over your hair, Your soft skin visible.

He felt himself flinch, Your soft breathing, the way you looked so peacefull on his bed. In his clothes, With HIm. He smiled a little, oh what Could have he been if your not there? He felt his eyes darken. You dont need those pesky pests that makes you miserable all the time. Just stay with him. Just say the word and he'll....

He softly mutters under his breath, his silver strands slowly falling onto your skin as he leans in closer. Enough to feel his breath against the corner of your lips. "Fuck."

.

.

As you feel him shift away from the bed, and eventually walk his way to the kitchen— you slowly turned around, and shot your eyes wide open. 'What the fuck was that??' You bit your inner lip, trying to compose youreself as you felt some heat creep up your face. 'So he really does like me...' you blinked profusely, Trying not to bite your nails.

You felt his lips graze onto your neck just a minute earlier, does he act this way even when im not around? You thought. Its not like your repulsed by actually finding out he likes men. Its that... you never believed someone like him, Likes YOU.

Your face heated up more at the thought of siyun liking you intimately. 'And its not to self loathe but there are many variety of optio'-

You tried to muffle your yelp as you felt a pair of hands dig onto the fabric of the mattress. Siyun came back. And to the best of your efforts, You tried to put up a best act. gripping onto a pillow and grunting, Laying upstraight.

Siyun watches a little, his eyes slanting as he observed your every move. Has he found out you were awake from the beginning? Ah, shit. But what suprised you even more, is that his hands were slowly spreading your legs apart. You closed your eyes tightly, hes infront of me? What the hell is he doing? You sweatdropped.

You felt him scoff from above, his raspy breath evident. You feel youreself twitch as he leaned down to your crotch, you feel like you could die right now. What is he planning to do? You gripped onto the pillow tight. Trying to hide your flushed face.

Siyun smirks a little, Hes never done anything like this before. And he knows fully well your wide awake, trying to pretend. He felt himself heat up. Your not pushing him away, you wanted this. You needed this. You needed his mouth on your dick. And your not exactly offended by the thought either. Lets just see how far you can go without fucking into his mouth, begging for more.

He hums lowly, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he let himself get comfortable beteeen your legs. He lets out a soft "Aah" sound as he opened his mouth, placing his lips just right above your clothed tent.

He kissed your bulge softly, letting his sharp canine graze onto your waistband. Slowly dragging out stiffled reactions from your mouth. His hand onto your thighs, and his face burried deep. So you can feel his every breath on your most sensitive spot. He chuckles slightly, letting out sounds of soft lip kisses onto your cock, his hooded eyes staring right through you in the pillow.

"Fuck, i just wanna eat you up." Siyun muttered, grinning quite widely, before letting his broad tounge lick a strip up your bulge. Your reaction evident as you gripped onto the pillow tightly. Barely managing to keep the gasp inside of your mouth.

He hums in satisfaction, His boney fingers tracing your cock slowly. Circling the wet spot as he rested his head oh so casually just beside your erection.

You cant see whats going on, yet you feel so sensitive. You cant help it, Fuck. Shoudnt you be stopping him now? Why... ah..

You feel his finger snap around your waistband, and slowly dragging it down to your boxers. Humming all throughout the way. As your pants was on thigh level, he felt like it was appropriate enough to start sucking you off. He licked his lips a little, flicking your boner with the tip of his fingers.

"Desperate little thing huh?"

As he whispers, he lets out a blow onto your tip. Feeling annoyed that he cant see your face. But sure, Lets play this game Y/N.

You let out a involuntary moan as he wrapped his lips around your cockhead, Feeling a stripe of his tounge dart out and take a taste.

Occasionally, beads of tears well up against your eyes as he licked up long stripes against your shaft, his teeth grazing every once in awhile. His hand pumping against your base as he slicked up your dick with spit. When did he even learn this anyway? Did he observe from "those" dreams or something?

You held onto every ounce of pride you mustered, to not fuck into his mouth. Feeling his hands firmly press against the sides of your hips and finally take you whole into his mouth.

"Mmghh...mmmh." he moans happily, letting his tounge slide around your cock as he hollowed his cheeks, his eyes glancing at you through his eyelashes. Your arms still gripping on that fucking pillow.

He felt his eye twitch, determined to make you cum deep inside of his mouth. To forget about those two Insects for awhile, and focus on him entirely. He tries to let out every lewd sound to drag out your reactions one by one.

"Ngahh..." he moaned, licking a broad stripe under your shaft, He felt himself redden. Your cock was twitching and resting onto his face. his lips pursed to kiss every vein on your cock.

Shit, you were so cute. Your little whimpers drove him crazy. Every time your hips Bucked involuntarily, it got his own dick hard. He should control himself. He should... Ah, ah.... what should he even do with you?

He kissed the top of your cock, before enveloping it once more into his mouth. Trying to hide his excitement as his throath clenched around your lenght. He bobbed his head up and down, slowly tasting every part. Slicking it completley wet with his salivia. His nose hitting your pelvis as he let his mouth get penetrated.

You bit your lip, hiding your face under the pillow as you heard his mouth elicit wet squelches. I wonder whats the look on his face? You huffed out. Cut and erratic. The normal you woudve been slapping him on the face already. If not, you woudve been slapping youreself too.

You tilted your head discreetly, your eyes half lidded as you took a short peek. Yet you felt your heart race even more.

—He was directly staring into your eye. Your dick making a dent onto the side of his cheek. He smirked, Letting go with a slight 'pop' sound.

Siyun felt your cock twitch under his fingers, He bit his lip in excitement. He cursed under his breath, and pushed your pillow aside. Gripping it under his fingers as he threw it on the wall.

You huffed out, drool pooling onto the shirt you borrowed from him. Your eyes wide open and looking above him. "I...uh- ugh..." you muttered, before getting cut off immediatley. The lips that sucked your dick onto your own, tasting your own precum.

You moaned into his mouth, your tounges Inexperiencedly exploring eachother. Yet you coudnt care less. You placed your palm onto his nape, as he bit your lip. Rubbing it against his sharp teeth.

Your breath hitched once more as his palm went back onto your hard cock, fapping it more faster than before. "....y/n... your so cute. Your so so cute." He whispered, His thumb onto your tip. Is this a good time to confess? Well no fucks sake.

You bit your lip hard as he moved his mouth to bite and lick your earlobe. Whispering sweet nothings as his hand continued to pleasure your cock. " Ah... hah.. You love this. You fucking love it. So... so stay with me. Forever. Please..."

siyun felt himself get more and more turned on by your moans and whimpers, Without even touching himself. He wants to pleasure you for now... He doesnt want to push you too far. He should focus on you only. He can come later on.

You let out a broken moan that sent his eyes wide open. The grip on your cock tightening as white spurts of thick liquid shot out. Your hips bucked onto his hand, covering his fingers with sticky cum.

"Ah... ahhh.... u-uooh..."

he smirked widely, letting go of your softening cock as he lifted himself up. Sitting onto your thigh. As he looked at his hand, he coudnt help but feel a sudden rush of adredaline. His face flushed with his own sweat, not even noticing his own boner thats weighing down inside his pants.

He moaned onto his fingers as he licked your cum, Letting the salty taste spread onto his tounge. And looked at your breathy figure underneath him.

His fingers caressed your bruised lips, before letting two of his fingers enter your mouth. Your eyes half lidded,... before slowly sucking it.

His eyes widened, grinning even widely than before. You tilted your head down to take his fingers deeper inside your mouth, holding onto his wrist firmly.

"Ahh..."

"Fuck."

Oh my gosh, well... i was thinking of doing a part 2. So thats why there wasnt any aftercare as of now, Where its either he rides reader, or reader rides him...

Its up to me anyways~ u can comment. Maybe i can get convinced to continue this hehe

[thewertsearch]

GG: you said you are asking me permission first and i appreciate that GG: but if you are asking im afraid my answer is no! AT: oKAY, i RESPECT THAT, AT: bUT, i WONDER, GG: what? AT: i WONDER IF A TRULY SELF CONFIDENT GUY, wITH THE BEST SELF ESTEEM THERE IS, wOULD EVEN NEED TO ASK, AT: mAYBE THE BEST GUY WOULD JUST KNOW HE WOULD BE SUCCESSFUL, aND WOULD DO IT ANYWAY BECAUSE IT IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, aND EVERYONE ELSE'S,

I don't think Tavros is just emulating Vriska here. This is a very Alternian mindset, and it's one we've seen before.

Alternia is, after all, an empire. It's a society whose idea of success is inexorably tied to violence and domination - so if you're trying to be a better troll, you'll probably gravitate to both, even if you don't realize it.

It's not really about your personality, either. Karkat is, by all accounts, one of the more moral trolls in the party - but as we've seen above, even he's got those imperial instincts. This sort of thing is insidious, and once it worms its way into your brain, it can be hard to shake.

Tavros is a very straightforward example. He's finally gained some 'confidence' - and what's his first impulse?

To seize a useful resource from an alien, and use it against her will.

GG: that would be smug and arrogant and would make you a bully!!! [...] AT: yOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT ALL THAT, i'LL RESPECT YOUR WISHES, AT: oR, AT: wILL i? };) GG: nooooooooo dont dont dont dont dont GG: im serious GG: uuuuggghh i think my headache is coming back AT: i WAS jUST, AT: mAKING A JOKE, AT: sORRY, }:(

This dude cannot read a room. Truly, the anti-Terezi.

Oh, leave off.

AG: Next time you decide to open your heart to an alien girl…….. AG: Make sure her chat client isn't 8eing holographically projected for all to see, ok?

This exploit should apply to chat clients of any size, provided the screen is visible. Maybe John's Pesterchum Glasses were a better investment than I thought.

AG: Jade let you down too easy. She's too nice! Someone's got to tear into you for that appalling display, and once again, guess who's shoulders that falls on? AG: That's right. Vriska's, as usual.

Tavros probably does need someone to explain what he did wrong, but it should be anyone but Vriska. This is obviously just going to be more bullying, and no actual advice.

AT: i THINK SHE HAS THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF NICENESS, pERSONALLY, AT: aN AMOUNT THAT IS SOME, iNSTEAD OF, AT: nONE,

Showing backbone against Vriska, eh? Finally, a constructive use for all that confidence.

Progress is progress, even when it's just a minor clapback.

AG: Hey, I'm nice when it matters, [...]

Nope, I'm calling Vriska's bluff. What nice things has she done so far, exactly?

Sure, she made Tavros the rocket chair, but only after mercilessly tormenting him for his physical condition, which she caused.

Plus, this wasn't even a real apology gift. She kept bullying him after that, and is literally doing so as we speak.

I guess she also made Aradia's soulbot, as an 'apology' for murdering her with her own boyfriend. To be precise, she had Equius make it, with horrific results that she should probably have seen coming.

She also thought that it would be 'nice' to tell Terezi that her blindness 'wasn't that bad'. This conversation was kind of complicated, though, and I'm not sure what her actual intention was.

Anyway, it's pretty clear that Vriska doesn't really grok what 'nice' means. She gives Tavros a rocket chair, continues to torment him, and doesn't understand the contradiction, because she doesn't think his feelings actually matter.

[...] and where it doesn't strangul8te the critical development of people I give a shit a8out, ok?

"After all, no one was ever nice to ME, and look how gr8 I turned out! When you think about it, it's actually a GOOD thing that no one ever showed me kindness! It made me strong! Don't you want to 8e stroooooooong, Pupa? ::::D"

I'm reminded of this exchange from Hivebent. Kanaya recommends that Vriska practice some basic self-care, and Vriska completely flies off the handle, furious at the mere suggestion that she should be kind to herself.

Vriska thinks kindness will harm her. She refuses to accept it, and avoids showing it to anyone, which makes her remarkably consistent in her cruelty. I'm willing to bet that there's nothing she's said to Tavros that she hasn't already said to herself.