#to me they are he/her x she/him & i will hear NOTHING else

[leonastarry]

{ 13 } Mine. ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x fem!reader

Sung Jinwoo wasn’t the type to get jealous.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

He had fought god-like beings, commanded entire armies of darkness, and held the power to crush the world.

And yet—

None of that mattered anymore when he saw another man getting so close to you.

The scene played out like a terrible cliché: a guy in a suit at a party, smiling charmingly at you, standing a little too close. Jinwoo watched as the man leaned in, his hand casually placed on the bar counter next to you, practically trapping you inside.

Jinwoo saw red.

This was supposed to be a normal night out—a simple gala, some socializing, nothing more.

But that was before.

Your laugh rang out over the music, but Jinwoo knew that laugh. It was your polite, I-don’t-want-to-be-rude laugh. The kind you used when you didn’t want to cause a scene.

The guy leaned in even closer, and that was it.

Jinwoo moved.

Silent, precise. Shadows followed in his wake, curling around the floor like they, too, were eager to stake their claim. Within seconds, he was behind you, his presence washing over you like a wave of heat.

Then—his hands were on you.

One on your waist, the other sliding up to rest against your bare shoulder, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to remind you who you belonged to.

You stiffened briefly before relaxing into his touch because you knew.

You knew exactly who it was.

Jinwoo didn’t even glance at the man in front of you. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to suffocate him.

Instead, his lips brushed the shell of your ear as he murmured, voice smooth but dangerously low—

“Are you having fun, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, turning slightly in his grip, but his hand on your waist only tightened.

“Jin—”

His eyes flickered, dark and possessive as they locked onto yours. He wasn’t angry at you—but he was something else entirely.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said softly, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath the words.

The man finally seemed to realize his mistake. He cleared his throat, attempting to step back. “I didn’t know you were with someone,” he muttered.

Jinwoo laughed.

But it wasn’t friendly.

It was low, dark, warning.

“She’s not just ‘with someone,’” he said smoothly, tilting his head. “She’s with me.”

The man swallowed hard, hands raised in surrender. “I—I was just talking to her—”

Jinwoo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And now, you’re done.”

That was it.

The guy mumbled an awkward excuse and practically bolted in the other direction.

Jinwoo didn’t even watch him leave.

His attention was all on you.

You exhaled, giving him a look. “Jinwoo…”

His grip on your waist didn’t loosen. If anything, he pulled you in even closer, his other hand sliding to tilt your chin up.

His dark eyes flickered, searching your expression. “I don’t like it,” he admitted. “I don’t like it when someone else looks at you like that.”

You softened, fingers grazing over his chest. “Jinwoo, you don’t have to be jealous. You’re the only one I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he cut you off.

You blinked.

He exhaled, then leaned in until his lips were just barely brushing against yours. “I want you to show me.”

Your breath hitched.

Because that wasn’t a request.

That was a challenge.

And you had never, ever been one to back down from Jinwoo.

You exhaled softly.

Then—

You kissed him.

Slow, deep, certain.

Jinwoo inhaled sharply, but the moment he processed it, he melted into you. His hands slid to your waist, fingers gripping you just tight enough to keep you close. His lips moved against yours, slow but desperate, as if he was drinking in your reassurance, as if he needed this to believe you were his.

You pulled back just enough to whisper, “You’re the only one, Jin.”

His breath hitched.

Then, without a word, he kissed you again—fiercer this time, tilting your head up, claiming you completely.

He didn’t need to say it.

You already knew.

You were his.

And he was yours.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

•Disease

Viktor x God/ess!reader

Synopsis-Viktor is in the verge of death, only a forgotten god can bring him back; what’s his fate?

cw- character death, bad writing, god!reader, writer watched what if when she started this, sexual undertones, kissing, reader is referred as ‘you’, uhhh I gen don’t know what else to put 😭

“I could be the doctor, I can cure your disease…”

Mortals. Primitive, selfish beings, they take so much but give so little. They don’t know it always comes back to bite them in the end.

Jayce eyes shoot open taking in painful gasps of air, delirious he stands up on wobbly legs. Looking around he’s horrified by the carnage that surrounded him. Where the council room once stood only rubble and mangled corpses of the councilors take its place. His breathing quickened, Mel. He searched frantically finding her incoherent, he helped her to her feet before his heart stopped. Viktor.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Jayce cursed himself before he realized he found his best friend, his partner's body; broken and bloody. Jayce ran towards the dying man. “No, no Vik come on stay with me.” The Talis boy cried, ripping Viktors dirty button, pushing up and down on his chest, hearing the crack of a rib with every compression he gave. His vision went blurry with tears. Viktor couldn’t die, Jayce wouldn’t let him. This isn’t working. I need to get to the lab. Was all Jayce could think, lifting Viktor off the floor racing to their lab.

He threw Viktor down, going through everything he possibly could to save him. There was nothing. How could this be? All those endless nights in the lab, countless nights gone with sleep, how many times they had to run over their morals for the greater good. How could this be? Jayce slammed his hands down on the stretcher Viktors body lies. He hadn’t realized he began crying again. And this time he couldn’t stop. “Please, please, anyone save him. Save my partner. Save Viktor.” He cried out into the air, it was insane, he knew nothing could hear him, help him. He was alone.

•

•

•

“Save him…. Save Viktor.”

Your ears rang over and over, the same phrase repeated over and over and over again until it was scorched into your brain. “Fine. Fine, Fine!” You grimaced walking up the invisible stairs into a room unlike any other; a room full of mirrors all differing in shapes and sizes.

You could see into any universe through these mirrors , anywhere anytime, everywhere all at once. You flowed through time and space, keeping the contingency in balance; but the punny little mortal kept disturbing you. Looking through one of the mirrors you touched the middle of the portal closing your eyes focusing all your energy to find that one little speck. Your terrestrial energy hummed around you; your plane of existence shaking all around you as if a glass ball under pressure about to shatter. Gotcha.

The fog of the portal disappeared and in it replaced a beautifully devastating scene, where one single action could create a new branch of reality. But this man doesn’t seem to be doing anything, but cry.

He was quite pitiful. The other man, the one he cried over, close to death if not already there. An essence radiated all through his dying body, you could feel the power he could hold. What a waste of potential.

You listened closely as the male pleaded and pleaded. “Save him,” he wailed. “I’ll do anything, give anything.” But it wasn’t him you wanted.

You bargained with yourself, if you saved the dying man you could have another soul, another disciple. But then your oath, if you broke then who knows what the Watchers would do.

“But, the Watchers haven’t been heard from in millenniums. I’m sure one life does not matter.” You mutter to yourself taking in a deep breath before you reach into the mirror grabbing Viktors hand and pull his soul from his body and bring him into your realm.

Viktor awoke gasping for air, he looked around panic feeling out his nerves. There was nothing, actually nothing but white, he was in a blindingly white room with no doors apparently. He looked down and saw his body, that was definitely not his. Where his metal protected body once was a white void takes his place, it didn’t feel like his body but a replica of what once was. Just as he went to find a way out a voice caught him. “Finally you’re awake I was wondering when you would—“

“Who are you?” Viktor cut you off from giving your gracious welcome speech, he studied you as you gathered yourself from his rude barbaric homosapien ways. You were indescribable, you went above all meanings of magic or logic he has ever known. Your body was like his but different. Colors of deep hue swished through your glorious temple, unlike his body yours blended with the void as if you bent it to your will. You floated around him ten times his size, terrifyingly beautiful.

“I am everything and nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

You don’t answer him, only swaying back and forth studying the statue in front of you, having truly forgotten how little human bodies can be.

“I heard your mortal man beg for your life, pleading for your soul's salvation.. I can give you salvation, Viktor.” You hummed only bringing Viktor deeper into your symphony of madness. “I can cure your disease.”

“What disease.” If all he can say through all this lunacy. “The disease of death.” You continued voiced strained almost as of this was exciting you, the longer you went on the clearer everything became, the blast killed him and this must be his hell.

“If I am to live again there will be a logical– a right way to do it.” Viktor tried to rebuttal your divine interference.

“Nothing can save you, no medicine, nor any human magic. But I can be your anecdote” You moved so fast Viktor couldn’t even catch your face as you moved back and forth.

“What.. I don’t– I don’t believe this.”

“I can make you believe.” You suddenly disappeared just for Viktor to feel a hand drag down his back.

“You are the flesh maggots adore,” you whisper into his ear, hands feeling his body up. “But I can make you so much more.” Your voice entranced him, enchanting his soul. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll transcend any and everything you’ve ever done on that little speck of a planet of yours.”

“How?”

Gosh the questions have mortals always been this annoying?

“I’ll merge the smallest piece of my soul and I'll exchange and you will give me yours.” You explain an exaggerated smile stitched on your small, your face muscles strain he was concerned for you, they would surely cramp if you continued.

“My what?”

“Oh my— your soul. What else?” You look at him as if he was an insolent child and to you he was.

Viktor, well he was calculating whether or not this could be real or not. How out of 1 million probabilities this is the afterlife he was stuck with and if he was lucky this is all a dream and he’ll awake in a hospital, maybe a little sore, but definitely not survived by a forgotten god. As if hearing his thoughts the creature before him pushed him on the ground, straddling him.

“Forgotten’s a harsh word, I’d like to think of it as temporarily disposed of. And like I said before,” you spoke softly, hands caressing his shoulders and face, Viktor’s stomach clenched an unfamiliar and unwelcome warmth filling his body. “No human medicine will work for you. Only I can help you, so let me cure you.” You looked into his eyes, no deeper. It was as if you were connecting with his very being, so he definitely wasn’t thinking with the next words he uttered.

“Fine.”

He gave in way quicker than you thought, you smiled delighted. Getting off of him quickly and lead him to another place of whatever plane of existence you were on. This time there was one thing, a huge pitch black temple, the sculpture looks as if made at the depths of Tartarus. It made one quite unsettled how off it looked compared to the heavenly light that could burn one’s eyes out blazing behind it.

But one thing Viktor was thinking, was how big this place is.

When you two reached the temple and he looked back to you, you had a much more serious expression, your angelic features scrunching up to make an unnatural scowl. He could tell you were never meant to be unhappy.

“Kneel.” Your instruction cut through his ears, slicing his eardrums. Your demand was quite painful. You looked back remorse painting your eyes. But you had to remain in control.

As you knelt beside him you dipped your hand into a golden dish filled with water as pitch as the temple. He hadn’t even realized what was in front of them. An altar. Dawned with candles that never melted, flowers that never wilted, fruit that would never rot. Unfamiliar Oil aromas mixed into his nostrils. Four cups each different in size and style sit on their own corner on the altarpiece. Who knew immortal beings have their own gods?

“Please ancient gods, forgive us for our mortal sins…” you whispered an unintelligible prayer, dipping in the gold dish four separate times kissing your hands in between the dips. You poured all different elements along with the water into a different golden cup. Then you grabbed each chalice and poured blood-like tar out of each speaking what Viktor assumed were names, that even he couldn’t pronounce.

“As you have sacrificed for us we shall for you.”

That caught his attention. He couldn’t even speak when you grab his hand and without a knife cut his hand open with the tip of your fingernail. “W-wha…” He couldn’t even speak as you did the same, your blood pouring out the same as he. He held his hand hissing at the burning pain and you just groaned, snatching his hand back. “Stop being a baby.” You say healing the cut with a wave of your hand over his.

“Now drink.” She said, bringing the golden chalice to his lips deaconing him on. His lips touched the liquid gulping four times, it was bitter and tasted like death.

He watched you as you downed the rest, the red drink dripping down your chest. You look back at him, a new ferocity freed from your soul, grabbing the sides of his perfectly aligned face and smash your lips into his. Viktor was taken aback, he tried to push you away but you were too strong and suddenly he found himself falling into the kiss. Your warm muscle found his lips parting them biting his lip so hard he bleed the metallic taste feeling up your mouth and before he could try and push away it felt as if something was being shoved down his throat. It was excruciating, excessive, euphoric.

As you merged yourself using all your will to not consume his entire being, Viktor felt as if he was at the top of the world. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, never having felt this much pleasure before it was unreal, unnatural and he needed more.

He grabbed your arms pulling your inhabited body closer, his body sparked a new energy, a powerful energy all through your body, it made you lust for more. Your soul's powerful emergence created a light, The light that was both of you, burned brighter and brighter until it combusted stabbing the white voided room into a black hole.

And then Viktor was gone.

•

•

•

“They broke the oath.” A deep, dark voice spoke.

“This cannot be.” A jittery one shuttered.

“An act of rebellion I tell you. Who knows any deity now will think they can do whatever they want no respect—“ An old shriveled on spouted on and on.

“Quiet.” Said the fourth voice, all falling silent . “They will be dealt with accordingly, but first let’s see what they are planning…..”

Mortals are not the only ones who take things and never give back, Gods are the only real selfish ones; but they never know until the very end.

[madthetruemad]

stubborn heart ch. 12

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

Capitano held you close as he entered your shared home, his arms were tight around you as many of the maids and servants bowed. None of them daring to look up or even ask what happened to the others as the bloodstains on Capitano’s coat.

“Lord-“

With a single look, the servant had zipped his mouth shut. His form bowing impossibly lower as he didn’t dare to lift his gaze again. With that settled, Capitano went up the marbled steps.

“Do you wish for a bath?”

“Later,” you said quietly, “mmm just cold.”

“Then you should take one now.”

He didn’t have to look at you to know that you were close to pouting, but you didn’t argue as he finally brought you to your shared room. Then he walked to the joined bathroom and easily kicked the door open before walking you over to the sink and settling you upon it.

“Are you able to undress yourself?”

You nodded as he turned towards the bath to turn it on and get it ready for you. Taking that as a cue to get undressed, you got off the sink and shrugged your coat off first, and with careful practice you managed to unlace your dress and drop each article of clothing to the floor one by one before you were completely nude. Truthfully, you could still feel the embarrassment course through you, however, he has seen you naked before…

When he had turned to look at you, you saw how his head immediately snapped to the side.

“Husband?”

“You… need to give a man some warning next time.”

Wait- was he expecting you to undress when he left the bathroom?!

You wanted to hide your face, but before you could you felt his hands gently cradle your face. So you swallowed the embarrassment now as the bath behind him started to get hotter.

“Why did you… come save me?”

“Because you are my wife.”

“But I caused you trouble.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t.”

He was firm as he got out of the way for you and dropped his hands from your face so one of his hands could grab your arm and help you into the tub. You tried not to splash any water, but some still got on the edges of his coat when you sunk into the tub.

You had more questions for him, but you doubted he would tell you. So instead, before he could leave, you called out to him.

“I know you told me not to expect anything but… you could join me… if you want.”

You could hear his footsteps stop in the doorway, and when you looked over your shoulder you could almost see how the wheels turned in his head, but…

“Maybe next time.”

You watched as he closed the bathroom door behind him which caused you to sigh. You don’t know if it was relief or something else, but you were glad either way. Truthfully, you didn’t know how you would react if he got in the tub with you. However, you do know how you feel since he didn’t… you raised a hand and pressed it against your chest. It hurt. He did say not to expect anything after all.

That same night, Capitano didn’t come to bed. Nor was he present in the morning or afternoon.

His absence would be a constant for the next two weeks which would leave you wondering… maybe you were too much trouble after all.

Atri was folding your laundry when she noticed your troubled expression. No matter how many books you tried to nose into, nothing would cure your sadness and she noticed.

“Did he not tell you where he was going?”

“No. Did he tell you?”

When you looked over at Atri, her face was everything you needed to know so you turned to her expectantly.

“He’s just on a mission, he’ll be back soon.”

You sighed and turned back to your book until you heard a bustle downstairs. Servants all running around as you turned to Atri and she smiled at you and motioned towards your bedroom door.

Almost excitedly you had tossed your book to your side of the bed and hurried to the front entrance as fast as you could. Capitano left so unexpectantly, so seeing him again was surely to put you in a better mood, right?

Though, the moment you got to the front door you had skidded to a stop. Your eyes were trying to figure out exactly what you were seeing.

Why was some random woman hanging off of Capitano’s arm?!

@littlekohai77 @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu @nastylilcvnt @nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @mikoslightnovels @feral-childs-word @barbatoss-bitch @venicecherryblossom @squirrelboxer @temperamentupgrade @avalordream @immahuman @xavlyzn @greensunflowerjuna @sarah22447 @naviabestgiirl @nevermoresworld @depressedbearblogs @ppancakesforu @0vendettaself @lilyalone @mochiivqi @pbjts @chewwyaaa @c4xcocoa @ren-ren23 @tazuduck @atrebiusr @simpingbigtime @aryuunachigiri @judithregulus @crowleysthings @yns-sister @satori-runa @meowmeow999999 @beeskn3es @tamikahoshiko @shoyosdoll @ngadasblog @sugacor3 @xiana21 @melancholyae @jjkysnk @s1mppp @that1weirdshipper @himikoquack @sugaryesplease12 @gallantys @wiltedpoison @vamqyx @butratherbutrather @squishameow @reivelmin @eirly-morning-tea @vortexbloom

[starl0rds]

Theory of Desire, pt. 3

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader ୨୧ · ♡ · ୨୧

Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 here!

“Stay with me.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

As your yearning for him deepens, you discover sides of Young-il that shake you to your core.

Warnings: minors dni! smut, mentions of sex, masturbation, wet dream, fingering, oral sex, blood, dirty talk, dom!in-ho, praise kink, basically plot with porn/porn with plot

Author's Note: thank you so much for all the love and feedback on the fic. we love some mutual pining and heightening tension! chapters will be updated every few days on ao3 <3

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Chapter 3: all you have is your fire (and the place you need to reach)

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

- “Arsonist’s Lullaby,” by Hozier

For the first time in a long time, In-ho dreamed that night.

He was in that office again. Sitting behind that desk where the case files piled up like dirty laundry, in the rolling chair that creaked every time he turned. Coffee, black, sat in a mug positioned to the right of him, slowly growing cold. In front of him was an open file and a notepad. In his hand, a pen.

And yet, instead of reading from his file or jotting down notes, his attention was fixed on something else—the detective sitting at the desk across from him. Taking a statement from a young woman in a chair.

Suspects, witnesses, victims—they came and went at the police precinct all the time, a dime a dozen. This was standard procedure, nothing more. So what was so different about this? 

He watched the way the woman’s gaze remained downwards, her hands folded in her lap. She sat so still he could have almost believed she was a statue.

Detective Kang was saying something. In-ho noticed him shift closer towards the woman. His hand reached out to comfort her. Came down to rest on her thigh.

He watched the woman recoil. The detective only smiled. A lion baring its teeth at a deer.

The woman excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Detective Kang at his desk alone. Before In-ho could think, he was rising from his desk and striding over.

“I see you’ve been getting awfully friendly with the vic, Detective.”

The senior detective reclined in his chair and glanced sideways at him. “Alleged vic. And she’s quite pretty, isn’t she? Nice face. Although a little plain… otherwise.” He chuckled, and In-ho felt the heat rising in his chest.

“I think the captain would be very interested to hear if a certain Detective was crossing professional boundaries with a civilian.”

His eyes narrowed, like a snake’s. “You’ve always been a stickler for rules, In-ho. Don’t fret too much. It is my responsibility, after all, to take her statement.”

“And what exactly is it that you’re doing, Detective?”

“Just having my fun. The case is going nowhere as it is. Poor girl doesn’t even think she has any witnesses, or proof of what happened. This one is probably going in the archives.”

“Might I remind you that a civilian has no place in fulfilling your own… desires.”

“And what are you going to do, In-ho? File a report against me to the captain?” 

“Just keep it civil.”

The woman returned from the washroom. From the viewpoint of his desk, In-ho watched as Detective Kang continued to listen to the woman speak, sitting upright in his chair and taking notes. He made no move on her thereafter.

The woman finished with her statement. Detective Kang said something about the unlikeliness of the perp being called to the precinct, the proceedings of the case, and she only nodded. There was no sadness, no disappointment in her expression. As if she had expected nothing. 

Before the young woman left, she glanced around at the bullpen of the precinct, as if she had forgotten something but didn’t know what. In-ho thought it was almost like a plea. For someone, anyone, to look up and see her.

The woman caught In-ho’s gaze, just for a moment. Her eyes were hollow.

The song trumpeting through the loudspeaker roused you from your sleep.

“Players,” the disembodied voice declared again. “The next game will begin shortly. Please prepare yourself to exit in a single file line.”

Below you, the front door to the chamber opened. Several pink guards strode out into the room. No matter how many times you had seen them, the sight of them, carrying their large automatic rifles, made your palms sweat.

You felt someone come down the steps to stand at your bedside. It was Young-il, already up and already as alert as ever. His eyes were trained on the guards. Despite his attentiveness, you noticed the dark shadows underneath his eyes.

You studied his face. A thousand questions played on your tongue, and yet all you came back to was the heat of the moment, the sensation of his lips on yours. The feel of him pulling away. Your heart constricted.

“Young-il…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He met your gaze, and you saw that old hunger spark in his eyes. It was gone just as quickly. Despite your exasperation, the longing unmet from the night before, something in your armor weakened.

“You look tired,” you ventured.

“It’s the mattresses. Too thin, too small.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you sleep?”

Your mouth curved upwards. “Terribly.”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(chapter cont. here on ao3!)

taglist: @k1ra-park3r

[simpforchuchu]

My Enemy’s Sister | Mitsuya Takashi x Haitani!reader - part2

a/n: Hello, it’s been a long time since I wrote for Tokyo Revengers. I’m watching season 2 again and wanted to write something for my dear Mitsuys… Anyway, I hope you like it 🌸💕

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my native language.

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: fights, violence

part1 part3

“Are you mad at me?”

Rindou pulled his eyes away from Ran with young girl’s question and turned to her. When he saw Y/n’s sad expression, he sighed and smiled while patting her head. This was one of the rare times Rindou showed his affection. He wasn’t a guy like his older brother, he just showed his affection with his actions. 

“No, I’m not. But I hope you realize how much you scared us, Y/n. You can’t even imagine how scared Ran was when we saw you with that Toman captain.”

Y/n nodded her head. Without taking her gaze off the floor, she spoke quietly

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I… I just wanted to help Mitsuya-san.”

Rindou winced at hearing his enemy’s name again. He knew the Toman captains. Even if Mitsuya was the best among them, seeing one of them next to his little sister made his stomach turn. 

“Y/n… don’t forget how dangerous he is. He’s a gang member.”

Rindou knew that he and his older brother were more dangerous, but he knew that they shouldn't trust any gang members. That's why he wanted his sister to stay away from all of them. For years, he and his older brother had kept y/n away from everything. Of course, y/n knew that her older brothers were two delinquents, but she had no idea that they ruled Roppongi.

The young girl could understand why they were so protective. Their parents were never home. That's why Ran had raised both of them. And both Ran and Rindou were overprotective brothers for y/n.

Y/n looked at her older brother and the lilac-haired boy who were a little far away without saying anything. They were waiting with Rindou by the motorcycles. And she was very curious about what the two of them were talking about.

Ran and Mitsuya were still nervous. After Ran threatened Mitsuya, Mitsuya smiled calmly and shook his head.

"She doesn't know, does she? She doesn't know how dangerous you and Rindou are, what you do, nothing." Ran twirled his braid with his finger and looked at the lilac-haired boy with a stern look.

“And she will never know, Mitsuya. That’s the only way to keep her safe. You will stay away from her forever. Or else-“

“Or else you will kill me,” Mitsuya finished Ran’s sentence. “I respect you, Ran. I have always respected you. You may not be a good person, but you are definitely a good brother.”

When Ran looked at Mitsuya in surprise, Mitsuya smiled.

“But you are wrong. Neither I nor Toman would ever touch a girl.”

Ran did not say anything. He continued to look at him with the same gaze.

“And… this life you are hiding from her will not keep her safe. She has the right to know the truth-“

Ran grabbed Mitsuya’s collar harshly, thinking that he was threatening him.

“You will stay away from her, or I will hunt down not only you, but every single Toman member. Did you hear me?!”

Mitsuya placed his hands on Ran’s wrists with a calm look.

“You know you put her in danger-“

Before Mitsuya could finish his words, something neither of them expected happened. Y/n hugged Ran tightly from behind and spoke in fear

“Onii-chan! Please! Let go of him!”

Ran was frozen in shock. Mitsuya was also looking at Ran in surprise.

“Y/n…”

The young girl tightened her hug at the sound of her brother’s voice. Even though she was afraid of Ran’s reaction, she wanted to save the boy who saved her.

“Onii-chan, please let’s go home.”

Ran quietly removed his hands from Mitsuya’s collar. Rindou was also silently watching his brother and sister. He knew that Ran felt betrayed, but that wasn’t the point. More than anything, Ran was afraid of losing Y/n. That’s why he didn’t say anything.

“Y/n, Rindou. We’re going home.”

Y/n flinched at her brother’s harsh voice. She silently followed both of her brothers.

Mitsuya watched them walk away for a while. He could see how upset Y/n was. He didn't expect the young girl who saved his life to be his enemy’s sister either. But it wasn't hard to understand that Y/n was unaware of everything. So he didn't know how to feel.

He sighed deeply and brushed the dust off himself. He squinted his eyes at the brightness he saw on the ground at that moment. He bent down and picked up the necklace he saw. It was a thin gold necklace. He frowned at the name written on it. This necklace belonged to Y/n.

***

Y/n thought there was dead silence when she got home. Ran went to his room without saying anything. Rindou knew very well why Ran was acting like this. He knew that his brother wasn't angry with Y/n, but offended. It hurt Ran that she stopped him for someone she even didn't know. But he still knew that it wouldn't be like this for long.

Y/n said goodnight to his younger brother and went to her room. She took off her clothes and got ready to take a shower. She untied the kerchief in her hand and looked at the dried blood. It hurt a little, but it didn't hurt as much as his brother's gaze. Then she looked at the kerchief again. She should wash it and give it back to him. But she didn't know how to do it when her brother was definitely asking her to stay away from him...

[ccazimi]

Poltergeist!

cw: sukuna x ghost!reader, pure CRACK, humorous mentions of a foot fetish, heian era au

wc: 2.5k

a/n: perhaps i will continue this idk yet :P

Sukuna had found the perfect place to settle down after years of simply wandering amidst the forest. The shrine was nestled away amidst a misty crop of trees at the base of a large mountain, overgrown with vines and surrounded by towering cedar and pine trees.

The wood had faded to a grayish-brown, bright vermillion paint flaked off to leave patches of dull red. It was large enough that the grounds included storage rooms, a sprawling overgrown garden, and servants’ quarters - all laid out behind the grand torii gate.

Perfect. After a few servants and workers he kidnapped from nearby villages, the place had come alive in no time.

What Sukuna didn’t expect was the possibility that the shrine was already inhabited.

It started with nothing more than a cold draft here and then, or an oil lamp abruptly extinguishing itself in the middle of the night. Sukuna swears his memory must’ve gotten worse since he got here too because he swore he’d closed the door to the garden last night, that he’d kept the manuscripts he was reading on the low table beside his futon.

Not to mention that slightly unnerving feeling that he’s being watched sometimes, late at night when he’s alone in his room trying to sleep.

Not even a week later everyone runs to a corridor after one of the maids starts shrieking at the top of her lungs.

Sukuna arrives disgruntled amidst the commotion, utterly aggravated that he was interrupted during a meal out of all times.

“What the hell is this all about?!” He growls, staring pointedly at the young woman who’s clearly been spooked by something.

“I- I think this shrine is haunted, Lord Sukuna…” She replies timidly.

Sukuna crosses both sets of his arms, unamused and looking at the servant like she’s stupid or something. “Haunted, huh? And how exactly did you arrive at this genius conclusion?”

“I- I saw a woman…in white, my Lord. With blood all over her clothes,” She points to the end of the hall, “standing there. Then she disappeared, and a second later I felt cold, icy cold, hands on my arms even though I couldn’t see anything, and…”

Sukuna cocks a slitted brow, wholly unimpressed by her account so far. “And?”

The maid hesitates, rubbing her head awkwardly before continuing. “And then I felt someone kiss my cheek, with the same cold lips.”

Sukuna blinks.

“You’re telling me a ghost kissed you?” He repeats flatly, just to show how ridiculous it sounds.

“Well…yes, my Lord…”

Sukuna wonders if he must have accidentally dropped this one in particular on her head when he kidnapped her from the village.

“Waste my time with some stupid shit like this again, and I’ll personally send you to the realm of ghosts myself. Understood?”

The maid has no choice but to nod in acceptance, as Sukuna commands everyone to get back to work. There’s no way his meal was interrupted for this shit.

Unfortunately for him, that’s not the last he has to hear of these kind of incidents- if this supposed ghost isn’t smooching people, it’s busy scaring the shit out of them. Before long, basically everyone agrees that the shrine must be haunted.

Well, everyone except for Sukuna, of course.

He refuses to entertain these ridiculous ideas, at least not until he sees something with his own (four) eyes.

Never mind all the other strange but small occurrences that have been taking place around him.

Sukuna's sleeping one night when he feels distantly like someone else might be in his room. He stirs a bit, an eye opening drowsily when he sees what seems like the figure of a woman standing by his bed.

He figures it’s one of his concubines looking for a late night fuck or something even though he hasn’t invited any tonight. They get real needy sometimes.

“Leave.” He mutters, closing his eyes again. “Not in the mood to fuck right now.”

“Hah. You couldn’t fuck me even if you wanted to, squatter.”

Squatter?

Well that wakes him up, because the King of Curses refuses to take any form of impudence even in his sleep.

He sits up on his futon. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking t-”

And that’s when he catches sight of you for the first time, a new face that he doesn’t recognize but certainly doesn’t mind looking at.

He squints. There’s something off about you.

You look a little pallid, like you might be sick or something with long unkept hair. Not to mention your white gown is splotched with red, and he swears he can kinda see the back of his room through you.

His gaze drifts downwards, where he notices that your feet are hovering an inch or two above the ground, and it clicks together for him.

“Why the hell are you staring at my feet? Out of all people who could’ve come in and taken over my shrine it had to be a four-armed freak with a foot fetish?”

“What?” His red eyes snap back up to you. “Who dares speak to the great Ryomen Sukuna with such bold impertinence—”

“Oh, shut up already, would you?” You huff. “I’m the shrine maiden that lived, died, and was resting in peace here till you arrived with all your little minions and disrupted my sleep.”

Sukuna scowls, eyes following you as you float around his room. “So, you’re the ghost that’s been terrorizing my servants, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “What, a spirit wants to spread a little love and now it’s called terrorizing?”

“Okay, let me specify: why the fuck are you going around and kissing the attendants?”

“Because you know how ridiculous it sounds to tell someone that a ghost kissed you? You would never believe them. Also, it’s kinda funny.” You’re on the other side of his chamber now, bending over to reach for the pot of sake on a table.

Unfortunately for you, your fingers pass right through it when you try to pick it up. “Dammit, this whole materializing thing takes a bit of practice…”

Sukuna watches as you try, and fail, a few more times to pick it up before finally getting fed up. “Will you stop that? Just tell me why the hell you’re here.”

You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “I got tired of messing around so I decided it’s time to cut to the chase- I’m here to haunt you.”

One of Sukuna’s eyes twitches, while he stares at you like you have four arms yourself. “Haunt me? Are you fucking serious?!”

“Yeah. Until you get out of here.”

He scoffs. “And who said you could haunt me?”

“Well who said you could squat in my resting grounds. I got here first anyway.”

“I’m not squatting, I live here. It’s not like you do- not anymore, at least.”

You look at him once before turning to the sake pot and swinging your palm at it. This time you do manage to hit it, making it fall noisily onto the wooden floor and spill the alcohol everywhere.

Sukuna stands up, gritting his teeth. “What the fuck are you doing, stop that!”

You stare at him blankly, and Sukuna realizes this is the first time anyone’s looked at him like he’s stupid. “I’m haunting you. I literally just said that.”

A strangled growl of anger gets caught in his throat as he reflexively raises his hand and yells “CLEAVE!”

Thanks to the fact that not only do you not exist in this dimension, but also that you’re already dead, Sukuna manages to do absolutely nothing to you.

Instead it’s the wall of his room that receives the consequences of his rage, a large gash opening up in it as his attack goes right through you and into the wood directly behind.

You burst out in laughter, bending over while he glares at you with such venom it might be enough to actually kill a living person.

He’s just discovered the one thing he hates more than humans: undead humans.

To say the least, Sukuna is not having fun trying to live his life while being haunted by a mischievous spirit that’s hellbent on getting on his nerves in ways he didn’t even know was possible.

“Can you stop rearranging my furniture?” Sukuna growls in exasperation, waking up to find that except for his futon the layout of his room has once again been changed. You’ve really been on a roll with the interior redecoration lately, coming up with a new design every morning for the past week. “How are you even doing that?! You were literally struggling to move the sake pot not that long ago.”

He can’t see you but he knows you’re listening, and he’s proven right when you decide to show yourself. “Concentration and practice, I told you. Though it happens automatically if I’m feeling strong emotions. Besides your room looks better like this, don’t you think? Really opens up the place.”

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

Sure, it did open up the place, but only because you decided to take every single object and piece of furniture in the room and pile it right by the door. “When I find out how to exorcise you, you’re done for. I’m going to banish you to hell. You can do as much furniture rearranging as you want there.”

It must just be his horrible luck, because not only were you an extremely irritating spirit, you were apparently quite a strong one too, which he found out after several different exorcision rituals performed by Uraume had failed. The one time he’d thought it worked and was ready to celebrate, was just you pretending like you’d been banished before showing up again not even two minutes later.

He guesses becoming a spirit must also have given you a certification in theatrics too, because you love to pull them out on his servants whenever you’re bored- including but not limited to: running on all fours, running backwards on all fours, contorting your limbs and body in ways that aren’t anatomically possible, turning your eyes white and zooming after people while you screech that you’re going to catch and eat them…

Sukuna’s told his attendants and concubines numerous times that while there really was a spirit on grounds, it wasn’t malevolent and just really liked to fuck with them.

It didn’t ease their fears, with the kind of stunts you pulled off.

Not that you didn’t find pleasure in the mundane as well. In fact he thinks one of the worst things you do is just floating around his room while he’s trying to fall sleep.

Back and forth, back and forth, he sees the pale and slightly luminescent figure just floating across his chambers.

He tries to ignore it but the repeated action itches his nerves, so he closes his eyes but somehow just the knowledge that you’re probably still going back and forth pokes at him, and finally—

“Can you stop that?!”

“I’m bored.” You reply flatly.

“Go be bored somewhere else.” He grumbles, turning into his futon and cushions.

“Do you have memory issues or something? How many times do I have to remind you that I’m haunting you.”

“You’re annoying me, not haunting me.”

For a second he’s sure you’re going to retort back, but there’s a pause, followed by you saying. “Okay fine. I’ll stop. Goodnight!”

He finds it suspicious, especially the cheeriness in which you bid him goodnight.

He doesn’t question his luck though, as you disappear and he starts to feel his lids grow heavy.

And just about as he’s fall into sleep, he feels it—jarring, icy coldness against the hot skin on his back.

He, the King of Curses, shrieks, sitting upright and fully awake.

Beside him is his dear spirit, under the sheets and cackling.

“What the fuck was that?! Get out of my bed, this instant!” He thunders.

“My feet—they were cold.” You reply innocently, batting your ghostly lashes.

He looks at you like he wants to rip you apart, and then tear his own hair out. “Because you’re FUCKING DEAD.”

“I thought you were into my feet?”

“I do not like your feet, I don’t even like feet in general, can you quit with that already?!” Sukuna massages his temples.

“I could’ve sworn I heard you moan when I put them on you, though…”

He can’t even talk because of how mad he is, just lunging to throttle you by the neck purely on instinct. His hand goes right through your ethereal body, and he must really not like the feeling because he quickly retracts his arm with a disgusted sound.

You do nothing but laugh even more, as he cusses you out while shifting away from you on the futon, and burying his head under a bunch of pillows.

Over time Sukuna still does not like you or appreciate your presence, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

“How did you die?” He asks in his room one evening, seemingly with no one else in it.

Just as expected you appear, hovering in front of him and crossing your arms.

“None of your business.” You reply curtly.

“I think it is my business to find out about the spirit that’s haunting me. Maybe it’ll even give me some idea on how to get rid of you…” He adds almost wistfully, imagining a life in this shrine without you throwing things around every day or freaking out his servants.

But all you do is huff and disappear.

Weird.

Normally you always have something to say. Must be a touchy subject, he concludes.

The next time he asks you again- you do actually give an answer, rambling on dramatically about how you “saved the shrine from a monstrous curse” and “sacrificed yourself for the sake of the world”. He snorts skeptically, nearly impressed at your flair for drama.

He asks you again the next day. This time your story was that “a wandering warrior came to the shrine, and fell in love with you.” But according to you, the gods didn’t “approve” of your passionate relationship and decided to curse you, leaving him to walk away heartbroken while you completed shrine duties till the day you died.

You apparently don’t appreciate his suggestion that maybe he left because of how insufferable you must’ve been, considering how many dishes you decided to toss at him before disappearing while calling him a “brute with a foot fetish”.

Each time he asked, you just spun an even more elaborate and ridiculous story from the last, including everything from goblins to tragic prophecies that would’ve made Victorian romances sound like light work.

You must be getting bored too, because now instead of antagonizing him all the time you actually offer some helpful advice occasionally, regarding his evil plans.

Sukuna notices you getting restless, and decides that a bored spirit is an even more destructive one.

So he gives you the task of managing his servants, and scaring them into submission.

He thinks you’re a pretty good manager, because his servants have been so on top of it after you’ve been appointed that he’s barely even had to fire (kill) any. He hears you working from time to time, showing up behind poor unsuspecting maids and telling them “they must do the dishes faster, lest they feel your wrath.”

He still doesn’t like you but he isn’t quite as determined in his search for a successful banishing ritual anymore.

[aventurineswife]

Here's a request, reader gets reminded of their mother either by looks or just general characteristics. Their mother is still alive, reader is just travelling across space and misses her. Mainly with Gallagher and Welt Yang, but also anyone else you want! All just platonic and familial bonds!

The Distance Between Here and Home

Tags: Gallagher x Reader, Welt x Reader, Platonic Bonds, Found Family, Nostalgic, Familial Comfort, Emotional Conversations, Quiet Moments.

Warnings: Melancholy Themes, Discussions of Missing Family, Emotional Vulnerability.

The bar was dimly lit that evening, its quiet hum and faint scent of aged wood welcoming you after a day that felt endless. The familiar clink of bottles and the faint scratch of leather as Gallagher leaned on the counter greeted you. He was a monument of calm in a chaotic world, his meticulous movements as he mixed drinks almost hypnotic.

You sank into the barstool, and he glanced up. His eyes, though perpetually shrouded in quiet melancholy, softened when they met yours. “Long day?” he asked in that measured tone of his, sliding a glass of water your way.

You nodded, sighing. “Yeah. But it’s not just that.”

Gallagher didn’t press, his hands deftly working on a new concoction. There was comfort in his silence, a kind of unspoken understanding. You stared at the glowing purple/pink lines peeking from under his sleeve, your mind wandering to memories of your mother. She had always been the steady hand in your life, the person who could turn chaos into calm with nothing but her presence. Gallagher reminded you of her in ways you hadn’t expected—not just in his quiet strength, but in the way he cared without making it obvious.

“She used to do this,” you murmured.

Gallagher paused, his scar catching the light as he looked at you. “Do what?”

“Make drinks,” you explained, smiling faintly. “Not like this, of course. Just simple things—tea, cocoa, sometimes something stronger for my dad. She’d hum while she worked. It always made me feel... grounded.”

Gallagher nodded slowly, his expression unreadable but his hands steady as he slid a glass toward you. The drink was a soft amber, its aroma warm and inviting. “Sweet Dream Special,” he said simply. “Might not be tea, but it’s something.”

You took a sip, and for a moment, you could almost hear your mother’s humming. The warmth spread through you, both from the drink and the thoughtfulness behind it. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Gallagher inclined his head, his gaze shifting back to the bar. “It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was a reminder that even in the vastness of space, with its endless stars and cold voids, there were still places—and people—that could feel like home.

The Express was quiet tonight, its usual hum of activity reduced to the occasional whisper of footsteps and the faint rustle of paper. You found Welt in the library, sitting by the window with a book in one hand and his cane resting against his knee. He glanced up when you entered, a small smile breaking his otherwise solemn face. “Trouble sleeping?”

You shrugged, settling into the chair across from him. “Not really. Just... thinking.”

He nodded knowingly and marked his place in the book before closing it. “Thinking can be dangerous at this hour,” he said with a wry smile, his glasses catching the soft light.

You laughed, though it was faint. “Yeah, it can be. I was thinking about my mom.”

That caught his attention. His expression softened, and he leaned back, resting his hands on the cane. “You miss her.”

“I do,” you admitted, staring out the window at the stars streaking past. “She always knew what to say. Even when I was being difficult or when things got hard. She had this way of making me feel like everything would be okay. I guess being out here makes me realize how much I took that for granted.”

Welt’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Mothers have a way of shaping us, whether we realize it or not. They carry a strength we often don’t see until we’re far from home.”

You nodded, the lump in your throat easing slightly. “You remind me of her sometimes.”

His brow furrowed slightly in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling faintly. “Not in how you look, obviously. But in how you carry yourself. You’re steady. Wise. You don’t say much, but when you do, it’s... grounding. It feels like you’ve seen everything and still know there’s hope.”

Welt’s lips quirked into a small, almost bashful smile. “That’s... kind of you to say. Though I imagine your mother would be far more deserving of such praise.”

“She is,” you said, your voice firm with pride. “But it’s nice to have someone here who reminds me of her. Makes the distance feel a little smaller.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the quiet hum of the Express filling the space. Then Welt leaned forward, his voice low and earnest. “Cherish those memories, and don’t let the distance keep you from them. Write to her. Share your journey. She’ll want to know you’re thinking of her.”

You smiled, feeling the weight in your chest lighten just a little. “I will. Thanks, Mr. Yang.”

He inclined his head, his gaze returning to the book in his lap. “Anytime.”

And in the quiet of the Express, with the stars as your witness, you felt a little closer to home.

[kathlare]

bet u wanna

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando finds himself alone in the quiet of Monaco, wrestling with the emotions stirred up by Amelie’s album.

Wordcount: 1.8 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 18th, 2022 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

Lando shifted in his bed, glancing over at his mates who were sprawled out across the living room, asleep. Max, Ed, and Tom had come to Monaco for the weekend to visit him, taking advantage of the little break they had during the racing season. The house was quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the AC and the gentle ticking of the clock. The guys had been in a bit of a rowdy mood earlier, but now, with everyone passed out, the place had taken on a calm, almost eerie stillness.

His phone sat on the nightstand, glowing faintly. He’d tried to ignore it for the past hour, but now, as the quiet stretched on, he found his mind wandering back to the same thing that had been nagging him for the last couple of days—Amelie. Her album, emails i can't send, had come out a few days ago, and the buzz around it was everywhere. Fans had been relentless, dissecting every lyric, speculating which songs were about him. The curiosity had been killing him. Everyone had been talking about it, and Lando couldn’t quite escape it, not even in the comfort of his own home.

He stared at his phone for a few more seconds before a wave of impulse washed over him. The thought of hearing her voice again—just for a few minutes—was too tempting. He couldn’t resist.

The house was dark, and the guys were sprawled out in the living room, so he slipped out of his room as quietly as possible, his bare feet padding softly against the floor. He snuck downstairs and outside, walking toward his beloved baby blue Jolly parked in the driveway. The car was just as much a part of him as the racing circuit itself. He’d had the car for years now, and even though it wasn’t anything special to anyone else, to him, it was comfort.

Lando slid into the driver’s seat, shutting the door gently. He stared at the stereo for a moment, almost waiting for some cosmic sign that would tell him this was a bad idea. But instead, his fingers hovered over the buttons, shaking slightly. He could feel the weight of what he was about to do.

Finally, with a deep breath, he pressed play.

The first song shuffled onto the stereo, and the soft intro to "bet u wanna" began to play, filling the car with Amelie’s voice.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, suddenly feeling like he was back in 2020, when everything had been so easy. The pandemic had brought them together in a way nothing else had. It had started with video games, late-night chats, and the undeniable pull of a friendship that had quickly turned into something else. He hadn’t been prepared for that—hadn’t been ready for her.

Her voice, unmistakable and raw, slid into the air, wrapping itself around him. —“Told me, told me, I’m your only…”—The words stabbed at him. He leaned his head back against the headrest, his chest tight. He didn’t want to hear this. He really didn’t. But he couldn’t pull himself away.

It had been over a year since they’d last seen each other. May 2021. The last time he’d heard her laugh. The last time they’d been... whatever they were. He hated how easily they’d slipped into this pattern, how quickly things had crumbled when Amelie got busy with Wicked and he started talking to Luisinha. It wasn’t like he regretted the decision he’d made. It was just... everything had felt unfinished with Amelie. The friendship, the connection, the things they never said. And now, the song. God, the song.

—“You’ve been wasting time, on the other side, if you’re satisfied... Touché.”—

It was too much. Lando ran a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head. He’d heard the rumors, the whispers from fans, speculating which tracks were about him. The curiosity had eaten at him until it felt like he couldn’t breathe without hearing her voice again, without knowing if she’d written about him. It felt like he was reliving a part of his life he wasn’t sure he wanted back.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest as the lyrics hit him hard —“Bet you wanna touch me now... Bet you wanna love me now…”—

He gritted his teeth. She was right. He did want to. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that it was too late. She had moved on. He had moved on. Hadn’t they?

The song played on, but Lando couldn’t take it anymore. He jammed his finger down on the stereo, the music abruptly cutting off. The silence in the car was almost deafening, and he let out a shaky breath. He leaned his head against the steering wheel, his hands gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white. God, this wasn’t fair.

He hadn’t even made it through the song. Her voice, the words—every line felt like a punch to his gut. He didn’t even want to know if this song was about him. He didn’t want to know if she was still angry. Or hurt. Or… missing him.

Lando sat there for a long moment, staring at the darkened street outside his window, trying to regain some sense of composure. But everything felt off. The cool Monaco night, the soft hum of the city in the distance—it all felt wrong. Like he wasn’t supposed to be here. Like this was something he shouldn’t have done.

The steady rhythm of his breathing was the only thing that filled the space around him, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm raging in his chest. Lando stared out into the night, watching the faint glow of streetlights cast shadows over the empty roads. It was a familiar feeling, being out here in his car, but it didn’t bring the peace he was used to. Instead, it felt like everything that had happened—everything he tried to forget—was crashing down on him in waves.

He couldn’t help but think back to all the times they’d spent together. Amelie, laughing at his bad jokes, sitting next to him while they played video games for hours, and then, when it all shifted into something more. Something complicated. Something they never quite figured out. She had always been his escape. The one person who didn’t judge him for what he did or how he did it, and he’d let that slip away. And now, hearing her voice, hearing her in a song, it felt like a reminder of how badly he’d messed up.

The worst part? He missed her. He missed her in ways he couldn’t put into words. But that was stupid, right? He couldn’t just hit rewind on everything. She had moved on. She had her family, her career, her life, and he… He had Luisinha. He had the chaos of his own world that was just as messy and confusing.

But in the pit of his stomach, he knew it wasn’t the same. Nothing had been the same since Amelie.

He let out a harsh breath, trying to push all those thoughts aside. He’d chosen this. He’d chosen to move on. And now here he was, sitting in his car, in the dead of night, mourning a relationship that had ended more than a year ago. It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

Lando stared at his phone, which now lay in his lap. He had half a mind to toss it out of the window, but something stopped him. His finger hovered over the screen again, and he saw that the album was still playing. There were more songs. More pieces of her—more words she had written, more stories she had shared. He shouldn’t listen to them. He knew that.

But he couldn’t stop himself. His thumb moved over the screen, searching for her name in the messages. He’d sent her texts before, each one a mix of drunken regrets and half-formed apologies. None of them had ever gotten through; Amelie had blocked him long ago, a decision he understood but still resented.

His mind was clouded, everything blurry and tinged with the pain of his own choices. His fingers typed out the message before he could stop them.

Lando Norris: I miss you so much. I just want you back. Just once more. I can’t shake the thought of you.

Lando Norris: Btw, congrats on the album. You’ve killed it.

His heart pounded as he read it over. It felt like too much, but at the same time, it was everything he’d been feeling for over a year. She’d moved on, he knew that. She had her family, her career. She probably didn’t think about him anymore. But Lando couldn’t escape the feeling of unfinished business. That there was something unresolved, something left unsaid.

He stared at the message for a long moment, wondering if he should send it. He knew it wouldn’t reach her, that she wouldn’t ever see it. But the idea of putting all his thoughts into words, of admitting what had happened, was more than he could bear. It felt like a small weight lifted, just letting it out.

But deep down, he knew it was stupid. Amelie had moved on. And so had he. He had Luisinha now, didn’t he? She was the one who stuck around, the one who cared, even if things weren’t as easy as they once seemed. He couldn’t keep holding on to this ghost of a past he couldn’t change.

Lando let out a breath, staring at the message one last time before he made a decision. With a deep sigh, he hit the delete button.

He didn’t send it. He couldn’t.

But as he sat there in the quiet of his car, the weight of what he’d just done didn’t feel like the end of it. The hurt lingered, thick in his chest. He didn’t know what to do next. All he knew was that nothing had ever felt as unfinished as this.

In the silence, he just sat there for a while longer, staring at his phone and wondering if he would ever be able to fully let go.

[theloveoffootball10]

ғᴏᴏʟɪsʜ - ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs

complete masterlist

ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs x ᴏᴄ Something a little bit different from me tonight. A very old one shot reimagined as a Lando fic because I can’t help myself.

ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ 'ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

Five years ago when Lando Norris asked me to be his girlfriend, I was the happiest I've ever been we may have been young but we were in love. I never thought one person could make me feel like I was on cloud nine everyday the way he did. I had the life so many dream about; the most loving boyfriend, amazing friends, the nice house, the nice car, the luxury holidays. I had it all. It sounds perfect doesn't it? Don't get me wrong it's an amazing lifestyle until the person you love more than anything in the world cheats on you. Not just once but regularly. That's when none of that stuff matters anymore it becomes a world of anxiety, doubt and worry. Where is he? Who is he with? Will he come home tonight? This is the life I'm living now as Lando Norris's fiancée. 

"Where've you been?" I ask Lando casually as he strolls into the bedroom of our Monaco apartment. Deep down I know where he's been and truthfully it makes me feel sick but I don't actually want to hear the words come from his mouth. In my head it will be more devastating to actually hear him say what I know has been going on behind my back for months now rather than acting oblivious.

"Just out with some friends, you should come next time" Lando says as he starts getting ready for bed. I don't understand how he's so blasé and how he can act like he's doing nothing wrong.

"That would be interesting wouldn't it" I mumble to myself as I turn the TV off and pull the duvet over myself, cocooning myself in.

"What was that?" Lando asks as he stands in the doorway of our en-suite.

"I said maybe one day. Night Lando" I say turning my bedside lamp off to put an end to our conversation. Hearing the bathroom door close I finally let the tears roll down my cheeks. This seems to have became a more regular thing lately. Lando comes home late with no explanation and I cry myself to sleep. Thinking about our relationship I question how things have got this bad between us. How have we allowed things to get this bad?

"You cried yourself to sleep again last night didn't you?" My best friend Sarah says the next day as I sit in her kitchen.

"What makes you say that?" I don't even know why I'm trying to deny it. It's obvious when you look at me and sadly she's been through this with me so many times she knows the signs.

"Your eyes are red and puffy. The bags under your eyes are something else and your mood tells me that you're beating yourself up. Why do you let him do this to you Taylor?" Sarah says not even needing to ask what's going on.

"I love him Sarah. I haven't actually asked him about anything yet but it's the same signs as the last four times" saying things out loud makes me realise what I'm actually letting Lando do to me.

"Taylor get some self respect! This might sound harsh but I can't watch Lando hurt you any more. He's cheated on you multiple times! You know about four girls he's admitted to but let’s be honest there's probably a hell of a lot more and every time you keep running back to him. You throw him out for a few weeks maybe two months at the most and he begs enough and promises to never do it again and you take him back because you miss having him around! No one deserves to be treated the way he's treating you" listening to Sarah I know she's right but I can't physically admit that my relationship with Lando has ran its course. It's destroying me mentally. 

"It's not all bad though and I know he does love me" I'm aware I sound pathetic but I truthfully believe that Lando does still love me. We’ve been together for so long now, he’s the only one I think about when I think about forever.

"This isn't how you treat someone you love. Look I'm not going to say anymore because you know I have a strong opinion on this and we don't agree so rather than this ending in an argument I'm going to stop talking. I've told you what I think but sadly I can't make any decisions for you. If I could he'd have been binned off a long time ago" I know everyone who knows me would be happy if I left Lando for good but I can't, I don't want to be alone. I can't picture a life without him in it. I feel like I've put so much time and effort into our relationship to throw it away.

sᴏ ɪ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴs ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ

"Will you come in with me? I know exactly what I'll be going in there to and I'm not prepared for that" I say as we pull into the garage at mine and Lando’s apartment and I see the strange car in one of our parking bays.

"Taylor this is so wrong. We've been away for a hen weekend and now you're worried to even go in your own house because you know your dick of a boyfriend has most likely cheated on you, again. However I can see how anxious you are so I will come with you but I'm telling you now I'm not being held responsible for my actions if he has got a girl in there" getting out of the car with Sarah I'm terrified. I know Lando has cheated on me probably too many times to count but I've never actually caught him with another girl let alone with another girl in our home.

"Lando?" I say walking into the kitchen not seeing Lando anywhere. This just confirms to me that he's still in our bed with a slut. Yes I'm going to call her a slut even though I don't know her. Mine and Lando’s relationship has been in the public eye for as long as I remember and there's photos around the house of us together. There's no way she can't know about me. Walking into our bedroom I feel sick. Lando is still sleeping with the fake red headed slut next to him and I feel like I can't breathe.

"You don't deserve this Taylor. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know anymore Sarah. I could always block it out when I didn't see anything but how will I get this image out of my head? She's in my bed" I say. I'm angry and I'm shaking but I don't know how to act.

"Not for much longer she won't be" Sarah says walking over to the bedside table where she grabs the bottle of water that is sat there. Before I know it she's pouring water over Lando and whoever that is in my bed "get up now, both of you" I don't think I've ever heard Sarah so angry in the whole time I've known her.

"What the fuck are you doing? You absolute psycho!" Lando shouts as he jumps out of bed.

"How could you?" I say when Lando looks at me actually realising I'm there and not just Sarah. I'm scarily calm and I'm even scaring myself. I don't even shout, I haven't got it in me to raise my voice.

"Taylor babe this meant nothing" always the same speech. It never meant anything when Lando tries to justify his actions.

"Don't you think you better leave?" I say looking at the girl in my bed "I don't care who the fuck you are but get the fuck out of my bed and get the fuck out of my house. Now!" Seeing the look on Sarah’s face I know she never expected that tone to come from me, hell I didn't even expect it.

I don't take my eyes of the red head as she climbs out of bed gathering her clothes, within minutes I hear her leave the house. That's when I let the tears flow free and Lando gets the brunt of my anger. Next thing I know I'm throwing things at him, I'm hitting his chest and I can't stop the tears.

"Why would you do this to me!"

"I'm sorry! It was a mistake. She didn't mean anything to me. Taylor she's nothing compared to you" Lando says trying to pull me into his arms but I resit and pull back.

"Don't touch me!" I scream at Lando not wanting to be anywhere near him.

"You disgust me Norris! You've got the most amazing girl and you treat her like this! You don't deserve her! She should've left you the first time she found out you cheated" Sarah shouts at Lando and I know she’s right. I should have left years ago.

"Keep out of this Sarah! This is between me and Taylor! Why are you even here?"

"Because your fiancée was too scared to come into her own home by herself because she knew you'd have a slut here! Look what you're doing to her! You're destroying her piece by piece!" Sarah has so much built up anger towards Lando I can see this exploding as both of them raise their voices at each other.

"Stop it! Stop it now! Both of you!" I scream nearly hysterical looking between my fiancée and best friend "I know you don't like each other but stop! Sarah will you give us a minute please?" I say knowing I need to speak to Lando alone.

"I'll be in the kitchen" Sarah says giving Lando daggers as she leaves the bedroom.

"Tay..." Lando starts but I cut him off.

"Don't bother Lando. I don't want to hear it. From my perspective you have no excuse for any of this. We were supposed to get married! Christ it's not like you don't get sex from me because you do! I could understand a little bit more if that was the case! I want you to leave" I say determined this will be the last time.

"Taylor please don't. I love you"

"This isn't how you treat someone you love Lando. Just go please. Stay with a friend, stay with your family, stay with one of the sluts you've been shagging behind my back I don't care anymore. All I know is that I want you to pack a bag and leave. There never will be a wedding" I say throwing my engagement ring on the bed before walking out of the bedroom not giving Lando the chance to respond. This is the final straw I can't go through this anymore. After five years I need to plan a life without Lando Norris by my side.

[astralzeraphias]

happy early valentines day!

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[misayani]

HONEY (R U COMING?) — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜arrogant and bratty reader (044) recruiting se-mi (380) for the second game

𔗨 author's note — wasn't seeing enough fanfics for my baby so ... [lowercase intended]

"i dont see anyone else that's good enough for us" you hear gyeong-su comment with a huff. 

you're currently standing with three idiots—thanos, gyeong-su, and nam-gyu, slightly distanced from the three with your arms crossed against your chest and while your twirl your hair. 

"yo thanos, what are we going to do?" nam-gyu's irritating voice cut through all the noise of other people communicating.

thanos turned to him, his head bopping, motherfucker's high again. "i don't fucking care man, let them come to us. i mean, who wouldn't want to be with the great thanos!" 

both men chuckled as nam-gyu speaks up once again, "what about you 044? make yourself useful, can't just sit pretty doing nothing eh?".

"and you call yourself useful?" you scoff as you turned around to face the three, eyebrows raised. thanos smirked at you as you sighed, "fine, i'll make myself useful. no one would probably even care to join you, even if you begged." 

"you bitc—" nam-gyu would've reached you already if it weren't for thanos holding him back while cackling at the both of you.

with one last huff, you strutted your way to the crowd, scanning around the room for someone who met your personal standards—hot, unbothered, and most specially, a woman. 

your eyes landed on a person wearing a jacket with the number '380'. with a confident smirk, you walked towards the woman whose back is facing you and talking to someone.

"leave." your voice broke their conversation as they both looked at you. you eyes were darted to the boy specifically, him being the one you told to leave.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered, looking at you bewildered.

you furrow your eyesbrows, taking a step closer to the boy, "do i seriously need to get you hearing aids? i said leave." 

the boy scrambled away before you can even take your second step to him. with a pleased smile, you turned to the utterly attractive woman who looked at you with an amused expression.

"join me." short and straight to the point. you were confidently sure that she would just say yes and come with you— surely, who in their right minds would turn down a pretty girl's offe-

"why should i?" she voices out. oh. my. fucking. god is her voice so alluring. her looks already made your legs feel like jelly and then comes her voice?— yes lord.

snapping out of your fantasies, you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her with an expression that read 'how dare you?' 

"a-are you serious? why shouldn't you?" you looked at her up and down in attempt to intimidate her, but really just an excuse to check her out.

"can't just expect me to join you after rudely making the boy i was talking to leave, sweetheart." she crosses her arms as she made her way closer.

sweetheart. heat rushed to your cheeks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

"what do you want me to do then? he doesn't look like someone who's good enough to join forces with in a death game like this anyways." you rebut. 

"and you think you're good enough?" she smirks at you. before you could even utter another word, she straights up and looks down at you—caused by height difference, making you feel small— and chuckles.

"what's your name and give me one good reason why i should join you."

you told her your name, which made you sound too eager for your liking, before you straightened yourself up and flicked you hair to the back.

 "i'll make sure you win. team up with someone who actually looks like they're capable of winning instead of someone who looks like a lost puppy." your eyes darted to the boy she was talking to earlier who was now talking to other people before returning your gaze to her.

she crosses her arms and brings a finger to her mouth to bite down on and stares at you, which made you scream internally. what the fuck. how can someone be this hot?

after some silence between you two, she spoke up "fine. but if i lose, i'll come for you."

huh. 'come for me?' won't be such a bad idea, right? the thoughts made you smirk as you boldy traveled your eyes over her figure. 

"oh, i think you have me mistaken. i won't mind at all if you came for me" your voice sounded innocent, but your words were laced with an obvious innuendo.

"oh?" she smirks. before you could even let her finish her sentence, you speak up once again to avert the topic.

"how will you come for me if you die anyways?" you roll your eyes to try and hide your flustered state. "which, by the way, you won't. my group is decent, me being the best member of course." 

and as if on cue, thanos and the two made their way to the both of you, his annoying voice dominating the noise surrounding you. 

"there you are doll, been lookin for you." you scoff at his words as thanos turns to face 380, which you still don't know the name of, "and who is this señorita?"

you opened your mouth to say something but 380 beat you to it. "se-mi. she recruited me." she says, nodding to you. 

moanable name. you thought.

"really? another woman? you already make this team weak." nam-gyu yaps as he turns to face you, saliva escaping his mouth. filthy.

you scoff as you step away and point your finger at him, "fucking shut your mouth. you haven't done shit to this team. your ass can't fucking talk." 

before a fight between you two broke out, gyeong-su already restrained nam-gyu. thanos whistles, "well. there's that."

the purple-haired man throws his arm over your shoulders and faced nam-gyu. "let's not talk shit now eh? we're a fucking team!" he yells as he raised his free arm up, "try not to kill each other off, we still have games to play."

nam-gyu rolls his eyes and se-mi watches the scene unfold, snickering.

"now come on my folks, come on." thanos frees you from his hold as he walked through the crowd, arms spread as if bragging, with nam-gyu and gyeong-su following.

your lips unsubconsciously turn into a pout as you turned to face se-mi, who was already looking at you.

"cute." she eyes you up and down and starts walking towards thanos' direction. your mouth opens as if you let out a silent gasp at what she said and just stared.

she realized you weren't following so she stopped and turned her head to look at you.

"coming?" she smirks

oh i'm definitely coming.

@misayani

[nexysworld]

Summary: Raccoon City, 1998. Leon, a rookie officer, encounters an exceptionally unique girl while on patrol. Captivated by her and concerned for her well-being, he decides to take her under his protection. Slowly, his thoughts increasingly revolve around her, and his concern for her safety turns into an obsession. Pairing: Developing Yandere Leon x Puppy Hybrid Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Oneshot, Mild Slowburn, Female Masturbation, Sex, Creampies, Dubcon, Controlling behavior, Incredibly Naive Reader, Non Outbreak AU, Fingering, Pillow Humping, baby trapping, mentions of past trauma/medical related trauma, Umbrella corporation being evil, sweet sex, fluff, no use of y/n, heat cycles. WC: 14.6K

A/N: This was a commission for the ever wonderful and lovely @explorevenus. I loved writing this and I hope you love it too. <3 Also thank you @dollfacefantasy for beta reading for me. :)

Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists

Thick fog permeated the area obstructing Leon’s view through the windshield of his cruiser. He didn’t really see a point in traffic patrols on nights like this; the road wasn’t visible, nor was any potential crime. Though he had to admit it was nice being able to sit and listen to the radio with nothing else to pull his attention. 

The particular strip of highway he was monitoring connected to the dense and dark woods that began the separation from the city to the mountains – it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows of the wildlife to occasionally dance against his headlights before the animal skittered off. It was something that used to unnerve him, but he’d grown used to it by now. 

The night bore on with little eventfulness, it was nearly midnight and time for Leon to phone in that he was ending his shift. Another night, exactly the same as before. 

Carefully, he pulled the vehicle out onto the road, keeping just slightly below speed to make up for the lack of visuals. Not paying much attention to anything besides the dim road ahead, he didn’t process anything in his peripherals – especially not the figure running towards the street.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, slamming the breaks. While the impact wasn’t high speed, it was too fast to stop in time – as he braced himself by squeezing his eyes shut, he heard the thump of something hit the hood. By the time he opened his eyes, he caught the tail end of the body rolling off and onto the road. 

“Are you alright?” He called out, not sure yet if it had been an animal or a person, as he shakily made his way over to the scene. His breath hitched upon the sight. “What the hell?” A girl, naked and ragdolled onto the pavement with a nonhuman set of ears and tail. Leon bent down, pressing his fingers to her neck. “She’s got a pulse, that’s good. Hey, can you hear me?” No sound came from the girl before him.

He knew he should’ve called for backup, had the paramedics on the way – but something about the whole situation was so peculiar it had his mind working at a negative speed. Gently he rolled her onto her back. There was no blood, just some scuffed up bruising on the girl’s left side from the impact, a goose egg forming on her head. 

Gently he tugged on one of the dog-like ears, expecting it to be part of a costume or a headband. Leon was thoroughly perplexed when he realized they were attached to the girl’s head, nearly jumping back when they twitched. A pained groan  left her mouth as she moved a bit, coming back to the conscious world, eyes lazily opening. Another muted mumble left her mouth as she rubbed at her head before sitting upright.

“Miss?” Leon put his hand on her shoulder trying to get her attention again.

She met his gaze and in an instant recoiled from him, growling as she scowled, even baring her teeth.

He noted the way the dog-ears on her head had pointed back all on their own, further evidence of them not being a costume prop. It was absurd, and he wasn’t sure whether to be on guard or laugh at her strange behavior. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in such a strange situation in his entire life. “Miss, I need you to take a deep breath for me, calm down.”

She didn’t let up, growling at him with more intensity, her stance becoming tighter as if she was winding herself up to spring at him. Despite the hostility, he could see it in her eyes that she was scared.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He reached his arm out again, slowly. “I’m a cop, I help people….do you understand me?”

She gave him an untrusting glance, eyeing at the hand as if it were offensive to be in her presence, but the growling had stopped. He dared his hand even closer again, this time managing to gently touch her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “You’re safe with me.”

Her bottom lip quivered before she relaxed a little.

He smiled at her. “Can you talk?”

“Yes.” Her voice was hoarse.

“My name’s Leon. Do you have a name?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You got roughed up pretty good,” He tore his heavy uniform jacket off, wrapping it around her shoulders before standing. “You too hurt to walk? Need help up?”

She shook her head again, using the hood of the cruiser to wobble back to her feet. He could see the goosebumps on her skin from where the cool air was hitting everything not under the jacket – though he quickly averted his eyes up from where her indecency started. He placed a hand on her back, gently motioning her to follow him to the door of the car, opening it and ushering her into the warmth of the back seat. “What happened to your clothes?”

“Don’t have any.” She stared back at him, tilting her head to the side, dog ear flopping with it. It was cute, probably the cutest thing Leon had ever seen, and he wasn’t even sure what he was seeing still.

“Where are you from?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you doing out here alone?”

She didn’t reply, nor did he get a peep out of her for any other questions. When it became clear that she was shutting down, Leon had to think fast. “These are real, aren’t they?” He asked bringing his hand out to touch the soft ears atop her head again. He felt them perk up beneath his hand, and he gave a little scratch to it, hearing the telltale sign of her tale thump lightly against the leathered backseat. “You like that, huh?” 

She responded by closing her eyes, nodding into his touch.

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

“No.”

Leon wasn’t sure what to do with the girl. She hadn’t done anything illegal – unless you counted public indecency, but he could tell that probably wasn’t by her own choice. On the other hand, she clearly wasn’t normal. He didn’t even know what to make of the animal attachments or her quirky mannerisms. With her head tilted to the side, he had a more clear view of her neck now, a tattoo catching his attention, it was a red and white logo he’d seen before. “The umbrella logo?” He asked out loud, more to himself than her.

She responded by jumping back in the seat, growling again, covering the mark with her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He said, putting his hands up defensively. He was even less sure what a pharmaceutical company had to do with a girl like her – he could only venture to guess. Whatever happened there, she clearly wasn’t happy about it. “I won’t make you go back.”

“I don’t want to go back.”

“Then we’re in agreement.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, shaking it. She looked confused by the gesture but didn’t stop him. “When you shake on something, it means its a deal, you can’t go back on it.”

“Really?”

“That’s right. Why don’t you come stay with me for the night? You look like you could use some food and I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you stay out in the cold like this.”

“Ok.” He helped slip her arms through the holes in his jacket, zipping it up before clicking the seat belt into place. She squirmed against it in a panic. “No! No! Get it off!”

“Hey, hey.” He cooed again, cupping her cheeks. “It’s alright. It’s to keep you safe.” She shook her head, fat tears brimming at her lash line. “It is, I promise.” He held his hand out to her again. She took it this time, mimicking his earlier action of shaking it. “See? I have to keep my word now.”

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You weren’t sure of the man sitting in the front seat, or why you had to be strapped down again. You hated being strapped down. But there was something about his eyes, they were so kind compared to the scary men in white lab coats. His scent too, sweet and musky, not the sterile chemical smell that was scattered around the labs. Leon was nice. Leon was safe.

The warmth of the moving box you were in was all it took for the soreness and fatigue to catch up with you, eyes growing heavier and heavier until you found yourself sinking into that sweet and comfortable darkness.

“Hey, we’re home.”

The familiar sound of Leon’s voice tore you from slumber, annoyed, you let out a grumble readjusting in the seat. Only the jarring feeling of the cold hitting you as the door opened again was enough to yank you fully back to consciousness with a frown. “Don’t wanna move.” 

He sighed. “Then I won’t make you,” a moment later you were being scooped up into his arms. Being cradled against his chest felt nice, another thing so very unlike the way you were used to being treated. 

The inside of his home wasn’t what you were expecting. Every corner of the small house radiated his scent, and it was warm. Not a concrete wall or blindingly white light anywhere. The couch he’d plopped you down onto was soft, fabric feeling nice against your skin. It couldn’t even hold a flame to the sticky leather of Dr. Birkin’s office seat. Sinking into the plushness, you couldn’t help but bury your nose into one of the pillows, tail wagging heavily as you took in more of Leon’s scent.

“Comfy?” He asked with a soft laugh.

“Yeah! Yeah!”

“You wait right there, I’ll be back. I just need to get out of these clothes, then we can work on getting some food in you.” He ruffled your hair, making you giggle. The heaviness of his jacket and the comfiness of the cushions kept you in place. 

When he returned, he was in gray pants and a white shirt. He held out some fabric towards you. “I get the feeling clothes aren’t something you’re used too, but I think it would be best if you put these on.” There was a light flushing to his face as he said the words, though you couldn’t figure out why.

“Why?” You asked, taking them from his hand. They didn’t smell as deeply of him as you’d liked, instead a synthetic floral scent wafted to your nose making your face scrunch up. “They smell bad. I don’t need them.” “Bad? They’re fresh out of the laundry they should smell like – oh. Your sense of smell is probably a lot stronger than mine, isn’t it? Hold that thought.” He ran back up the stairs again, this time coming down with another shirt. He thrust it out waiting until you took it. “That better?”

Yanking it from his hands, you brought it to your nose, inhaling it. It was much better, wrapped in Leon, you nodded in acknowledgement.

“It’s my undershirt from earlier, thought it might work better. Let’s compromise, you can wear that shirt, but the boxers gotta be fresh since they’re not as close to your nose.” 

You considered his suggestion, rubbing the fabric against your face again. “Alright.”  He helped you unzip the jacket and slide it off before slipping the shirt over your head, then holding out the black bottoms for you to step into. 

You didn’t love it, the way the clothes felt against your skin, it was restrictive in a way you weren’t used to – but when he praised you, petting your head again you decided you could suffer through the torment of clothing for him.

“Good girl.” He praised again, and you were done for, practically crawling into his lap to get closer to the hand that was scritching behind your ears. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sore, but ok.”

“I think I have some medicine –”

“No!” You interjected. Medicine was never a good thing, it meant feeling hazy, fuzzy. It meant waking up with headaches, not feeling like yourself. Medicine was bad.

“It’ll make your head and side feel better.”

“I don’t care.”

“Ok, ok.” He gave in, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around you, gently running his hand down the back of your head in slow repetitions. “But if it gets too bad, let me know. Are you hungry?”

“I am.” 

He nodded, reaching for the phone on the side table. He said something about a large with extra cheese, but you had no clue what that meant. 

In fact, when he eventually answered the door and presented you with the triangular piece of food, you were even more confused. “What’s this?”

“It’s pizza.” He replied as if that was obvious, holding up the dripping thing and taking a bite out of the pointy end. 

You sniffed at the unfamiliar food. It looked nothing like the slop that constituted your meals back at the lab. It smelled strange too – but as Leon wolfed down his own piece, you took that as a sign it was safe to eat, even if a little strange. 

You couldn’t stop the moan leaving your mouth as your tongue met it – a strange mix of flavors but all were delicious as it melted in your mouth. Practically inhaling the piece, you scrambled forward to stuff your face with more.

Leon chuckled, rubbing your back. “I get the feeling you’ve never been given a decent meal before.”

You shook your head, another piece of pizza dangling from your mouth as you did so.

“Well, from now on you won’t have to worry about that.” He assured. “Promise.”

Did he really mean it? You weren’t sure, but so far he’d been nothing but kind. You smiled at him, food still in your mouth as you reached over to shake his free hand, making sure he couldn’t go back on his word.

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The moment the front door flew open, Leon was greeted by the tell tale sign of her presence, feet pattering around against the wooden floors as she bounded towards him. He caught her in his arms like he had every prior day, holding her close and resting his chin on her head. 

Her tail wagged behind her so fast it was hardly visible, but he could feel the light air current it created. Nothing warmed his heart more.

“You have a good day, sweetheart?”

“Mmm yeah, was boring without you though.” She whined. “They played the same movie on TV like 8 times!”

He chuckled brushing some hair away from her forehead before planting a kiss there. “That’s the worst.” He agreed, gently prying the girl off of him so he could make his way further inside the home to begin their evening routine – the same routine they’d gone through each night since he’d taken her home.

Leon didn’t have much going for him, sure he achieved his goal of graduating from the police academy, hell he even got his first pick of the local stations. But it wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d hoped. He had no grand career plans, or even life plans. His only reason for joining the police force was so he could help people, something that he rarely even did.

Traffic patrol, pencil pushing, the odd bar fight break ups – that was his life. 

At least until now. 

He found his thoughts wandering to her every spare chance he got. The image of her stretched out on the couch taking a midday nap, her curious naivety and childlike wonder over new things. The most mundane of things still revolved around her – and he loved it. Having someone to come home to and worry about gave him a genuine purpose. 

“Leon?”

“Yeah?” He responded as he pulled the soft cotton tshirt over his head. 

“Can we go on a walk tonight, please? Please?” She begged as she sat on the edge of their now shared bed.

“I don’t know, you remember what happened last time - “ 

“I know, I know. But I swear this time I’ll stay right by your side. I’ll even wear the hat!”

He let out a sigh, it was hard to say no when she was looking at him like that. “What has you wanting to go out so badly?” The thought of it dredged up some anxiety. While she was free to run about the property as she pleased, taking her into public was a different challenge all together. Not only were her social skills needing some work, but he was worried that wherever she’d come from, whoever had kept her originally was still looking for her.  Despite the time spent together, she hadn’t opened up much about anything still, not that he blamed her.

“The TV said there’s a para aid tonight.”

“A para aid?” He had no clue what she was going on about.

“Yeah! They showed all these fancy lights and food.” 

“Oh, the parade! The one down by the carnival.” He said in realization. “I don’t know… there’s going to be a lot of people there, lots of smells and noises too…”

The way she immediately shrunk down on herself, deflated in defeat, broke his heart. Her tail stopped wagging, fluffy ears flattened against the top of her head. It felt so wrong to be the cause of that upset, gut wrenching really. “You promise to keep the clothes on the whole time, and not run off on me?”

She perked up immediately, so quickly he was under the distinct suspicion she’d only been feigning her upset to get her way. Even that was endearing though. “Promise!”

“Then we can go for a little bit.” 

When she was at home running around in his boxers and shirts, it was adorable. But something about her dressed in his oversized clothes did something to him that he couldn’t explain. The gray beanie keeping her ears in place, the blue jacket covering where her tail was belted to her back, the jeans bunched at the waist and pooling at her ankles – it was like a sign of ownership in a way. 

He wrapped his arm around her, keeping her tucked into his side as they walked. He could see her head darting around every which way as the overwhelming sights came and left their view. “You alright?”

“Yeah. There’s just so much.”

“I told you.” He chuckled, squeezing her into him more. “If it gets to be too much, let me know and we can head home, ok?”

She nodded, but her eyes were already glued on the twinkling set of lights from the moving vehicles ahead of her. Leon moved the two of them forward enough so they could see the floats clearly as they came by.

“They’re beautiful.” She said, eyes wide in amazement. He could feel her tail attempting to move under the confines of the jacket-belt combo. It saddened him a bit that she wasn’t able to express herself the way she deserved for such a happy moment.

“Not as beautiful as you.” He watched as she looked in the opposite direction of him, despite the glowing multicolored lights of the next vehicle making its way past the crowd, he could still see the twinge of a flush on her cheeks from his comment. She looked pretty like that, soft and vulnerable – he couldn’t remember the last time someone gave him that fuzzy feeling, made his heart skip a beat.

“You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then why do I have to cover my ea - “

He shushed her, gently pulling her away from the crowd of people and the ongoing parade, until they were behind one of the teacup carnival rides. “You know you need to keep quiet about that when we’re out here. You promised.”

“But I don’t understand… if you think I’m pretty then why do I have to hide it?”

“Because - “ He was cut off when a group of teenagers bumped into them.

“My bad!” The kid said, waving them off as they walked away. The spot the two of them stood in was becoming more and more crowded as the street parade ended. With more people flooding in, Leon realized this wasn’t the time nor place for this conversation – but he knew he couldn’t leave her so upset either.

“Look, let me take you on one of the rides and we can talk, ok?”

“Rides?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it.” He said pointing to large ferris wheel rotating around. “That one, you get to sit in those carts and once you’re at the very top, you’ll get the view of the whole city.” Not waiting for her response, he took her by the hand leading her over to the line. Being halfway through the night there weren’t as many people lined up for the rides as there were for the games and food stalls. It didn’t take long before the two of them were seated, and the ride began to move.

He could tell by her body language alone the movement had her on edge. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t go any faster than this. We’re safe.”

“And I can look out?”

“Yep, just like I said, look.” He pointed out showing the bustling city below them as the wheel reached its peak.

“Oh wow.”

“That’s where I work.” He said pointing out to the large RPD building. “And that’s where I go to get the groceries.”

“And the pizza?”

“Over there.”

Now that the ride had been filled, it began to rotate again, she watched the city intently as it went around a few more rotations. He didn’t want to interrupt her intense fascination, so he let her be, only reaching out when she went a little too far over the opened window than he would’ve liked.

“Can we go again?”

“I can ask.” With the evening winding down more, and only a few others wanting to join the ride, the attendant nodded, allowing them to go again.

This time, her fascination dwindled slightly as she stayed put in the seat. “Can we talk about it now?”

“Covering up?”

She nodded, fidgeting with the cuffs of the jacket sleeve.

“When you’re home watching TV, do you ever see anyone that looks like you?”

“No.”

“It’s because you’re special, one of a kind.” He said tucking a stray strand of hair back under the beanie. “And I love that about you. My special puppydoll.” He smiled as she nuzzled into his hand. “But, because you’re so special, other people might not feel the same. People can be really mean when someone is different than them. I don’t want anyone to be mean to you, or worse, hurt you.”

A moment of silence washed over them, she scooted closer to rest her head on his shoulder, the cart swaying slightly.

“They were mean to me.”

“Who?”

“Where I came from.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what else to say to that, it was the most information he’d gotten out of her and it hadn’t been a lot, but he was happy that she was confiding something after all this time. “I’m sorry that happened to you . . . Do you want to talk about it?”

“Dr. Birkin was the worst. There were two of them actually, lady Birkin and man Birkin. They yelled at me a lot, asked me tons of questions. Sometimes they would put me on this big table and tied me down, poke at me…” As she spoke her voice became more strained, her body tensing up along with it.

It was clear that her short explanation was merely the cliffnoted version of events, and he wasn’t going to pry further than that – he got the idea. “Hey, its ok.” He cooed, wrapping both arms around her. “You don’t have to worry about them any more. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“What if they hurt you?” She peeked up from where her head had been nestled into the crook of his neck, a small wet patch formed where her eyes had watered.

“Why would they do that?”

“They’re bad people… and I wasn’t supposed to leave.”

“I’m a cop – its our job to keep people safe. And guess what?”

“What?”

“It makes us much harder to hurt.”

“Hey Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I try something I saw on the TV?”

“You’re not going to jump out of here, are you?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, I think that would be dangerous.”

“Then go for it.”

He was surprised when her lips met his, her arms slinking around his neck. He returned the gesture, holding her tightly to him, closing his eyes. “You learn to kiss like that just from watching the TV? I’m impressed.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I do it again?”

“I’d never say no.”

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The wheel came to its last stop, this time the man outside insisting they had to get off.  Leon nodded at the man, helping you step out of the cart.

“You hungry? I think some of the food places are still open if you want to try them. Or we can grab something on the way home.”

“Yeah, I’m starving.” You followed next to him as he was headed over to where the strong cacophony of smells was coming from. Like many experiences with Leon, it was something you couldn’t have imagined. Closing your eyes, you sniffed around, trying to identify and take in each individual scent that you could.

A familiar voice broke your concentration, if it weren’t for the stupid hat, your ear would’ve lifted allowing you better access to the sound. Instead it was muffled slightly, soon another familiar voice layered over that one. 

Swallowing dryly, dared to peek at the offending voices and immediately froze. The Birkins, it was hard to recognize them without their white outfits, but it was them – blonde hair and all, between them a small girl grasping at both of their hands. 

“No.” Voice breathless you tried to take a step and grab at Leon’s arm, only to realize he wasn’t next to you.

“What do you want?” The stranger responded.

“I-I’m sorr - “ The man didn’t let you finish, already walking away. Leon wasn’t anywhere in your sight, and despite your eyes darting around you failed to pick up on him or his scent. The surrounding crowd was beginning to overwhelm you, too much noise, too much to look at and take in.  “L-Leon?” No response, not that your voice could contend with the chatter around. 

A hand on your shoulder made you jump. “There you are.” Man Birkin. “We were wondering where you ran off too.”

Not giving the man a chance to do anything else, you took off. He gripped at the back of Leon’s jacket, almost yanking you backwards, but you caught yourself and slipped out of it, not caring if the surrounding people caught sight of your true form – all you were concerned with was getting away, putting as much distance between yourself and the Birkins as you could.

It wasn’t long before the maelstrom of colors and scents from the carnival died down, morphing into a disgustingly musty and cool toned city view. Legs burning, you stopped only to give yourself long enough to pant, trying to catch your breath.  Peering around the corner and doing a quick 360, there was no one in sight, not Birkin, not Leon, not anyone.

A new sense of fear encompassed you, the realization you were lost and alone again, just like that night in the woods. Even worse, fear that if Leon did find you, he’d be angry. The hat you were wearing long blew off in the wind, the belt having been ripped off to free your tail – it made running easier. You were exposed exactly in the way you’d promised him not to be, and you’d managed to leave his side too.

“He’s going to hate me.” You whined into your hands, slapping at your face as the tears began to spill. “I’m so stupid. So stupid.”  

Once calm enough to think the situation through more, you looked around again to assess your surroundings. The streets were empty, and it was a lot darker than it seemed from the top of the wheel. Eerily quiet too, so unlike the bustling cities you watched on the little box TV at home. 

Gripping your tail with both hands nervously, you started your trek down one of the narrow roads. If you’d learned anything from the TV, it was that you don’t stay in alleyways. Besides that, what knowledge you had was limited, a fact you were now painfully aware of upon realizing that you didn’t even have a clue of where you were walking to. A green sign pasted to the wall looked familiar. There was someone wearing clothes similar to Leon’s, and a big white arrow pointing down the path ‘RPD’, you’d recognized those symbols from Leon’s uniform, and the huge sign he’d pointed at during the ferris wheel. “Cops help people.” You reminded yourself of his words.

You followed the arrow, stumbling about until you were before the gigantic building. A man was leaning against the wall, talking into a small radio. He was huge, the biggest man you’d ever seen, brown hair and muscles everywhere. His clothes weren’t quite the same as Leon’s but seemed different than the other people at the carnival. Nervously, you stepped forward. “A-are you a cop?”

He looked down at you, despite his larger and slightly more gruff exterior, his eyes were soft and kind like Leon’s. “Not exactly, something like it though. Are you alright?”

“I’m looking for Leon.”

“Leon? Leon….oh officer Kennedy. He’s not working tonight.”

“I know, I got separated from him.”

“Ah, I gotcha.” He took a step forward, instinctively you took one back, not trusting of the stranger just yet. “Hey, no need to be scared. I can help you.”

“But you’re not a cop?” You asked, taking another calculated step back.

“Not a cop, but I still work here with Leon. See?” He pulled some type of badge out. It was too far away and too dark to see clearly, but the shape of the badge itself looked like the one Leon usually kept in his uniform pocket. “The name’s Chris, Chris Redfield. Come on, you can come inside and wait while I call him.” 

“Ok.” Where you had been standing it was dark, but once the streetlight fully illuminated your figure, you saw his face change. Sensing no malice, you didn’t make a move to run, but you didn’t walk any closer either. 

Chris opted to come to you, eyes narrowing suspiciously at your form. Your ears were flat to your head as you looked up at him. “Are those...real?” It was so similar to your first meeting with Leon, even the large hand coming down to pat your head, scritching at them. It felt so good, you’d let the grip on your tail go, rubbing back into his hand. You recognized the look of concern that spread over his feature, but it was quickly replaced with a smile as he guided you into the building, and past several doors. 

The man took a seat behind a desk, watching you as he picked up the phone. It rang a few times before he put it back onto the receiver, no answer. “You don’t look so hot. Hungry? Need a drink?”

“Please.”

“Here.” He said, opening a metal tin before handing it to you. “Homemade by my sister, guaranteed to be delicious.” He stood from the rolling chair he had been seated in, looking down at you. “Wait here for me, I think his cell number is somewhere around here. Just don’t leave this room, got it?”

Already halfway through scarfing down the sandwich, you couldn’t respond. You nodded in agreement though.

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Leon had never experienced anxiety on this level before, not once in his entire life. One moment he was ordering food, the next he realized you hadn’t been by his side. His heart sank. 

The next hour he’d spend running around the carnival area, up and down the streets where the parade was, only to come up empty handed. When he’d stumbled upon his jacket, he felt sick to his stomach – only worst case scenarios came to mind; your dead body on one of his police reports, headlines about a mysterious science experiment gone missing, or arguably worse – someone else taking you home for their own pleasure.

The thoughts only worsened when he pulled the antenna up from his phone before flipping it open. “Leon? It’s Redfield. I think I have your uh….friend here. The one with the extra parts.”

“Is she ok? Is she hurt? How’d she get - “ 

“She’s fine. But we need to talk. I’m keeping her in my office for right now, no one else is here besides some pencil pushers, but some of the patrolling squads will return soon. I won’t be able to hide her all night.”

“Shit.” Leon dug his sneaker into the gravel. “I can be there in 15, no more like 25 with all the traffic leaving. Look Chris, I can explain. “

There was some shuffling and Chris greeting someone on the other end of the line before his voice picked up again. “Bad news, some of the teams are already back.” His voice was now a low hushed whisper. “Look, just go home, I’ll meet you there with her. You’re still at the old sheriff's house right?”

“Yeah but wait - “

“Gotta go.” 

Leon bristled as the call cut off, snapping the phone shut. The walk to his jeep, and the drive back home were done in silence. He felt out of his own body, swishing back and forth on waves of anxiety. He paced back and forth waiting for an update. 

It felt like a lifetime had passed before the glow of Chris’ headlights made an appearance through the front windows of the house. Leon couldn’t contain the childlike giddiness he felt, bolting out the front door and over to her; crushing her into a too-tight hug.

“Leon…” She whined, attempting to squirm under his grasp.

“No.” He said firmly, refusing to let go. “I can’t believe you ran like that, you promised me.”

“Leon it wasn’t -”

“I don’t care. Don’t you ever scare me like that again, do you understand?” He finally gave her enough room to look up at him. He felt horrible at the knee-weakening stare she gave back, but he couldn’t bring himself to calm down enough to comfort her just yet. “Go inside and wait for me, I have to talk to Chris.”

“But Le - “

“Go.” He said more firmly, pointing towards the front door. He waited for her to slowly make her way towards it, ears down and tail nearly tucked between her legs.

“Hey, don't be so hard on her.” Chris said, putting his hand on Leon’s shoulder.

“Yeah I know. I’ll apologize later. Thanks for bringing her home.”

“Sure thing.” There was a moment of silence that passed between the two men before Chris finally piped up again. “Leon . . . how do you even have that girl? I saw the umbrella logo on her neck, she’s probably some experiment, or worse, a bioweapon.”

“A what? Her? No. No way.” Leon said, shaking his head. “She’s different...but harmless.”

Chris sighed. “I think so too, but you never know. How did you even get her? How long have you had her?”

“Almost a year now. I kind of stumbled on her one night during the end of my patrol. She was so scared, I couldn’t send her back Chris, not if you saw that look in her eye.” 

“I get it.” The taller man said. “You should be more careful. I’m not sure the ins and outs of it all myself, but I know that higher ups in the S.T.A.R.S. unit sometimes work with Umbrella. I wouldn’t even be surprised if that girl was reported to them already. I’d keep her away from the city from now on.”

“You’re right.” It wasn’t like he’d let her go out often as it was, but after tonight, he was realizing that she wasn’t made to go out at all. She was far better off here, at home. He also knew that she wasn’t going to like that change - but it was for her own good. “You’re not going to uh…say anything are you?”

“Nah.” Chris shrugged. “I don’t see a point, it wouldn’t benefit anyone. She’s better off with you, I think.”

“Well thanks again for bringing her back.”

“No problem. If you two need anything, let me know.” 

Leon nodded, he watched as Chris made his way back to his vehicle and waved him off, not moving until it was out of sight. The anxiety from the evening hadn’t fully left Leon, and now that she was back home and it was just the two of them, he was nervous. Not in the sense that he thought they would have a confrontation, but he knew given everything it would be awkward and he hated the feeling of awkwardness. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” He called out noticing she wasn't splayed across the couch like he expected. The non-immediate response set off alarm bells in his head, but he was relieved when she came trodding downstairs in her usual attire. 

“What?” 

As expected, she didn’t look happy, brows knitted together anger written all over her face. He pulled her into another hug with one arm, his free hand gently smoothing over the top of her head, focusing on her ears in a short rhythmic pattern. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that. I’m just happy you’re safe, and home.”

“I didn’t mean to run off.” She mumbled against him, clinging to him in a hug of her own. “Really. One moment I couldn’t see you anymore, and I saw the Birkins there. It was so scary, I didn’t know what to do.”

“I should have kept a closer eye on you. I’m sorry.” Leon gave her a quick peck of the lips before pulling back.

“Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I in trouble? I let Chris see me and -”

“No. No, you’re not in trouble.”

“Are you going to be in trouble?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Chris is a cool guy, you can trust him.” 

“Ok.”

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It was about a week after the night at the carnival that you noticed something was different between you and Leon now. You weren’t sure if it had to do with the kiss, or the rest of the evening. A sneaking suspicion told you it was likely both. 

Since that night, he never seemed to leave you alone. It wasn’t a bad thing, at first. New rules in place meant you weren’t allowed outside without him now, even on the property. He taught you how to use the house phone just so he could start calling several times a day to check in. When he was home, he was all over you, scarcely allowing you to even remain in a single room by yourself. 

It was all for your own safety, is how he’d explained it.

He cared about you more than anyone else ever had, and the added attention made your stomach tingle, tail wagging and ears perked. 

But soon it became too much, suffocating as time went on. It left you with torn feelings, on the one hand you knew you should be grateful to Leon, should soak in all the affection he bathed you in. And you wanted to really. Guilt ate away at you every time one too many hugs became irritating. One too many phone calls pulling your concentration from your current task. Going stir crazy in the same 4 walls day in and out. Not even being able to sit alone on the porch for a minute of solace. 

It was so reminiscent of the lab, and you hated yourself for making that connection – because Leon was not like the Birkins or anyone else there. He was kind. He was sweet. You loved him. Moreso, even being locked within the house, you had more freedom than those sterile white walls and blinding lights that you’d grown accustomed to. 

You felt shameful disgusted with yourself for harboring such thoughts. Despite that, the annoyance didn’t go away, it only grew despite yourself.

“Leooonnnnnn.” You whined, angrily tapping your fingers against the kitchen table. “You’ve been gone every day this week.”

“I know, I know. But Marvin’s been out sick, they needed someone to cover his shifts. Next week I’m all yours.” He said, ruffling your ears and kissing the top of your head like he always did. It was a small comfort, enough that you felt your tail do a single little thump against the seat. It wasn’t enough this time to improve your soured mood.

“I haven’t been out of the house in almost two weeks and that was just to sit on the porch. I’m bored. Can’t we go on another walk?”

“I told you to stop asking me that.” 

You recoiled. He didn’t yell, Leon never yelled, but his voice was sharp and cut like a knife. His usually soft features were pointed with irritation, and it seemed so unfitting for him. It was only the second time he’d ever snapped at you like that. He wasn’t wrong either, you’d been shot down every time you’d asked, and when you kept up the onslaught of begging, he had respectfully told you to stop. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He said as he idly grabbed the ingredients for dinner. “I know you’re going a little stir crazy here, I get it. Really.”

“Does that mean you might change your mind?”

“No.” He said, shooting you a weak smile.

“But you just said you understood.”

“I do understand. But sometimes what’s best for us isn’t what makes us happy, we gotta stick it out.”

“How long do I have to stick it out?”

“I don’t have an answer for that. But I promise it won’t be forever.” 

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but nodded anyway. “Ok.” 

This time when he ruffled your hair, you felt a strange warmness waterfall over you. It had you squirming in your seat. “Can I go sit on the porch while you make dinner at least? Please?"

He shot you a warning look, but it softened in an instant. "Fine, but only the porch, not a step past it. "

"Thank you! Thank you!" You cheered, assaulting his cheek with an onslaught of kisses the moment he'd agreed. You heard him say something as you skittered off, but it didn't register, beyond happy to finally have a taste of fresh air - a view of something that wasn't the same set of walls for the first time in weeks.

The air slapped your face immediately. It was chilly outside, so much so you were debating heading back to grab a coat or a blanket, but the fear that you may not be granted permission to go back out if you even stepped an inch back into the house, kept you planted. A little cold was nothing compared to feeling of the wind in your hair, the different scents of nature drawing their way into your nose.

Your ears twitched, picking up the sound of something nearby. Chirping. A bird! It was perched in a tree at the end of the property where the well-groomed lawn spread out into the wilderness that spanned beyond the old fence.

The bright red was unlike anything you'd ever seen before in person. You wanted a closer look, just to observe it, halting the moment your foot lifted off the threshold of the porch. Leon had only permitted you to stay on the porch. He trusted you.

Your legs felt antsy, burning with the need to move, run. Your mind itched with the want to get closer to the small bird before it flew away. Before you were confided to the house again. A pathetic squeal-like whine worked its way from the back of your throat as you gripped the ledge of the porch, bouncing your legs up in down as if you were marching. You just wanted to see it.

Sure Leon would be mad if he knew, but if you were quick enough, only a minute, then he'd never know. Besides, you would still be on the property, technically.

Apprehension settled in your stomach, tethering you to the porch. "Leeeoonnn, I'm hungry. Is dinner almost done?" You called, cracking the back door open just enough to hear his response.

"Five more minutes." He called back, "I promise you won't starve, just wait out there for me, we can eat on the porch tonight."

"Ok!"

Five minutes. The door closed with a creak, the latch of the doorknob clicking into place. The fiery bird was still there, perched happily on the branch. Five minutes. You repeated on more time before taking off.

It felt so good, the bottoms of your feet flattening against the grass with each step. The wind knocking your hair backwards out of your face as you ran, tail and ears pointed. You had to resist the urge to spin, arms out, happy to be in the center of the open yard again. But there was only limited time, and you needed to make sure your little trip meant something.

Five minutes. "Crap." You muttered to yourself. "How long has it even been since he first said 5 minutes?" Realizing you didn't have the time to linger, you continued your journey jogging until you clutched the fence with both hands. "Ow!" The fence was splintered a part from age, but you hadn't expected it to bite you.

Only one hand was injured, little speckles of blood forming against your skin. The most damage done to your index and middle fingers. You shoved them into your mouth to suck and lap at the injury, ignoring the metallic taste in favor of finalizing your mission.

There it was in all its glory, this fat red bird seated in its nest. It turned its head side to side a few times as if looking down at you. "Wow." Murmuring around your injured fingers, your free hand cam up to reach out to it. It chirped and hopped around before fluttering it's wings and landing on your extended finger.

Eyes wide as saucers, your face almost hurt from how outstretched your smile was. Despite being so plump looking, the bird was surprisingly lightweight. It chirped a few more times. "Hello." If not for the stinging in your left hand reminding you of the current situation, you'd have felt like the Disney princesses Leon showed you.

Leon that's right, dinner would be done soon and you had no idea how much of the five minutes had been wasted. The turning off the doorknob in the distance had your ear twitching in that direction. It was too late to head back.

The sound of plates crashing to the wooden flooring made you want to cry, the bird sitting on your finger kept you where you were. Your hope was that maybe Leon would see it, understand why you'd done what you did, but the heavy stride of his steps told you otherwise.

"Leon -"

"Don't."

The last loud step by your side had the bird flying away, making you sad.

"You promised me! The first time I give you an ounce of trust and this is what you do?"

"I'm sorry - "

"You're always sorry! Do you want to be taken away? Do you want to go back to the lab, or worse be stuck with some stranger?"

"No."

"Go back inside."

"Leon the food -"

"Go. Back. Inside."

It was the first time Leon ever looked genuinely angry, his sky blue eyes feeling like lasers boring into the back of your head as you shamefully walked back towards the house. The remnants of dinner scattered over the porch from where he'd dropped them.

"Careful." He commanded, lifting you from behind to help you up and over the mess of glass and food, though the tone was far more annoyed than caring. You stood in the corner of the living room, watching him stomp around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets a little too roughly as he grabbed cleaning supplies.

Even the way he knelt down to begin scraping up the glass and food remnants off the ground just radiated negativity. "I can help clean it up."

"Don't bother." He said, getting as much of the mess into the dustpan. You sunk to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest, a defensive pose learned when you were still with the Birkins.

Leon didn't say another word to you as he stormed around the place, and you didn't have the guts to say anything to him either. You were in trouble. Real trouble.

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 He can't remember the last time he was so angry. He didn't usually get angry. Just wasn't that kind of guy. On the rare occasion it did happen, he was pretty good at reigning it in.

Now though? It felt like pure heat radiated from every vein in his body. He couldn't breathe without steam working its way from his lungs. He wasn't sure what he was the most upset about, the breach of trust? The defiance? Or maybe the way she batted those lashes, the stupid bird on her hand.

Manipulative. That's what she was being, he was sure of it. Manipulative because she thought she understood how things worked, thought she could just decide to do whatever she wanted without consequence. Worse, she thought he was a pushover that would just allow it at every turn.

He pinched his nose, leaning against the counter. When he finally felt a little more numb to his emotions, he allowed himself to look over to where she was sitting, curled up in the corner like a child. He wasn't sure if it was genuine submission he was viewing, or another way of trying to get under his skin. The gurgling of her belly coupled with the silence from her mouth was enough to at least draw his focus from the situation to her immediate needs.

Leon pulled the phone off the receiver, speed dialing the Chinese place. He wasn't in the mood to cook again, and while he didn't want to reward your misbehavior, he couldn't help the pull of the crab rangoon, knowing it would make his own mood improve.

"Get up." The words came out harsher than he had intended and when she flinched from him, he felt nauseous. He cleared his throat, trying again, this time much softer. "I need you to get up, you can't stay there all night."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes." She look like she'd been shot. "But I won't be forever. " He gently tugged her arm, helping her to her feet. He ruffled the hair on her head before smoothing his hands over her ears a few times. "I ordered something to eat. Let's talk before it gets here."

It wasn't a request, but he still appreciated the nod he got in return as he led her over to the couch. He had to admit now that he was mellowing out, he didn't like the invisible separation between the two of them. Now he finally understood what people meant about the tension being thick enough to cut. The way she was sat, stiff as a board hands palm up in her lap, he bristled once he realized one of them was injured. If it weren't for the still lingering simmer of anger in him, he'd have given in already pulling her close and doting on her until that sad look on her face melted to the gleeful smile he was used to.

"You broke my trust." He began, "That really hurts my feelings. The first time I give you a little leeway and this is what you do? I'm so disappointed in you."

"I just wanted to see the bird..."

"Why didn't you come ask?"

"Because you would say no! You always say no!"

"I didn't say no to the porch, did I?"

"No...but - "

"I let you do almost anything you want, damn it! The only time I say anything is when it has to do with your safety. So the few rules I have in place I expect to be followed. It's that simple. You're more human than dog, control yourself next time." He was raising his voice again, and he hated the sound of it. His own words rattling in his head and yet they continued to flow like a venomous waterfall.

"It was just the end of the yard. I thought I'd see it up close, then come right back."

"And you got hurt anyway. Look at your hand. That fence was old, dirty, that could get infected. And then what? It's not like I can take you to a regular hospital...." He put his palm over his face, sensing he needed to calm down all over again.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Really I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He wish he hadn't looked. Her face contorted and scrunched, red, tears and snot running down her cheeks. His chest tightened, mouth suddenly dry. That wasn't manipulation. No one ugly cried like that if they didn't mean it. It didn't change the fact that the trust he had in her was fractured, but any other negative feelings fizzled out with a pop.

"I believe you." He cooed, reaching forward to wipe some tears away from her face. "I forgive you. "

"I...love you....Leon" The words came between wracked sobs.

"I love you too." He wrapped his arms around her tightly, letting her sob into his shoulder. "It's ok. It's ok," he repeated as he pet her hair. "You just gotta listen from now on, sweetheart. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I don't want to lose you. It would break my heart."

"I will. I promise."

He wasn't so sure of that. He believed that she believed it though, and that sentiment was enough. He let her finish out her crying session until the delivery driver knocked on the door, tearing them out of the moment.

"Just a minute!" He called out, returning his attention to her. "After I grab the food, we'll get your hand cleaned up, eat, and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be better, alright?"

"Promise?"

"Promise." He cooked his pinky finger around hers, pressing a quick peck to her lips. Her ears pointed up in return, tail lifting to slowly move back and forth. That was his girl.

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 That strange warmness from earlier was back. A feeling of longing you couldn't quite place tugged at your core while heat made every part of your skin tingle, the bedding sticking to your clammy body. The wedge of moonlight coming in through the window caught your attention, pouring all your focus into eyeing it, trying desperately to ignore the discomfort, and to not wake Leon up. The last thing you needed right now was to have him upset with you all over again.

But whatever was wrong with you had slowly become too much, worsening by the hour.

The floorboards creaked with each step, feet feeling heavy as you tried to pad your way to the bathroom as quietly as you could. Even your lungs felt like you'd run a mile, panting the only way to get enough air without feeling suffocated.

One time, at the lab, you remembered feeling this way. It didn't last long before lady Birkin was stabbing a needle into your arm, frigid liquid cooling you down from within your veins. From that moment on, the shots became regular. They didn't explain what any of it meant, but you never felt that all consuming inferno again -- at least not until now.

Liquid cold. Instant relief.

That's all you craved. That's all you needed. That's all you could think about.

Liquid cold. Instant relief.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you flicked the light on, gripping the sink with your good hand so tightly a part of you was scared you'd crack the porcelain from sheer force of will. Your breath expanded over the mirror, fogging it up each time a heavy breath escaped. "Ok...I got this.....ok...." You told yourself, scuttling over to the tub.

Shower or bath, you mulled over the options quickly trying to make a decision. Leon took cold showers. He told you so, sometimes in the middle of the night, other times in the morning. You'd vaguely wake up to something poking you, and he'd be shuffling out of the bed. 'Shh. Go back to sleep.' He'd coo. 'Just feeling a little hot, 'gon take a cold shower, and I'll be right back.'

Good enough for you. The overhead shower roared to life as you turned the cold knob to max, water pattering loudly against the tub. You didn't even bother to strip, flopping yourself into the basin, clothes and all.

It felt like ice shards clattering against you, steam sizzling off your skin from the sheer difference in temperature. In any other situation, it would've felt miserable, too cold and uncomfortable. But right now, even the stinging pain of the water felt intoxicating compared to just being hot all over. It wasn't as good as the shot from lady Birkin, but it was enough to sooth.

As your body regulated its temperature, the aching sensations became more noticeable now. A pang of something between your legs had you clamping them together instinctively, skin making a slapping noise from the mix of force and wetness.

Your nipples hurt, hardening beneath the water, too rough against the tank top's fabric you had on. You needed to be freed from the clothes, weighing you to the bottom of the tub and sticking to your skin.

The shirt was the first to go, tugging it up and over your head, frustrated as the wet fabric seemed to stretch and stretch before it finally decided to free you of its grasp. The wet shirt hit the door with a smack and a plop, before sliding down onto the tile floor. You hiss when your nipples were exposed to the air, droplets of water making direct contact with the pruning skin. It wasn't as painful as the fabric, but it was definitely more sensitive.

Flattening your palms against your chest, you kneaded at your breasts, hoping warming them up a bit might help. It served its purpose, but each movement, skin rolling against skin made unfamiliar sensations of longing pulse between your legs.

You groaned, squeezing your legs together again. Every time you fixed one issue, another seemed to pop up somewhere else. You just wanted it all to go away.

The boxers were next, discarded next to the tank top. Now you felt weightless where you laid, nude flesh encompassed by the hug of the tub, water splashing down on you like rain. You were sure this is what heaven felt like, until another round of pulsating from your core made you bristle, ruining your moment of peace.

"No more..." you breathed out loud, startling yourself with the unrecognizable tone of your own voice.

You adjusted, one arm snaking its way under your neck for support, the other finding itself between your legs hoping to massage out the sensation if you could, like dealing with any sore muscle. The cold tips of your fingers brushed past something that made you gasp, toes flexing. A cold jolt, a warm tingle.

Tentatively, you brought your fingers back to that spot again, pressing down. It felt good, not quite as good as the first time, but the firm pressure seemed to quell some of the throbbing. You could feel your pulse in your fingers - were they being warmed by whatever was between your legs? Or was the cold of your fingers icing the spot there. You couldn't tell, both sensations melding together.

Why didn't it feel like the first time? Your brows came together, as you thought, eyes slipping closed. Spreading your fingers outward in a V shape, you felt it again, that jolt that made your lower half jump. The little bump, you discovered, was the key to that feeling.

Experimentally, you ran your index and middle finger over it again in a circular motion. A strangled noise worked itself out of your throat, and a muscle you weren't even aware you had tightened. It felt so good, but not enough. A burning pleasure on the outside, a dull thrum of need somewhere deep inside of you.

You wanted more room, spreading your legs as much as the tub would allow before hooking one over the ledge. You could worry about the water running off your foot and onto the floor later.

The water above served only as background noise now, your skin long numbed from the cold, allowing your brain to focus solely on what was happening below.

It felt like something was building up, like every sensation was working towards something, something you couldn't grasp. Frustrated noises echoed through the tiny bathroom, and your arm muscles burned with overexertion. Despite that, the need for something, anything, kept you going, desperately rubbing your fingers over the bundle of nerves in no rhyme or rhythm.

As fast as your body would allow, you pawed at yourself closer and closer until it felt like you were tossed off the edge of a cliff. Every muscle in your body tensed up. You forgot how to breathe. Splotches of white and black lights danced behind your eyelids. The shower was silent against the heartbeat hammering against your eardrums. Fuzzy ears twitched with your pulse, tail sloshing back and forth in the shallow water.

And as quickly as it came, the feeling was gone. So much rubbing, so much effort, so little warmth and too much exhaustion.

You went lax like a rag doll, leg sliding back into the tub, sore arm left where it was, hand still resting flat against your pubic area. When was the last time you felt this relaxed? Tired? Never, probably. Not even having the capacity to reach up to shut the water off, you were fully unconscious within seconds, facial muscles relaxing as the water rained down on you.

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 Light burned through his eyelids, the familiar feeling of consciousness tugged at his mind. He yawned, rubbing at his eyes. It was rare he didn't have to wake up to an alarm, it felt nice, just getting to lay there for a bit. The lack of warmth and dip in the mattress next to him made him grumble. "Sweetheart?" He reached over, patting around for her and coming up with nothing but the cool sheets beneath his palm.

Panic made him shoot up, eyes barely adjusting to the light as he looked around. The sound of the shower caught his attention. It meant she was home, at least, easing part of his concern. However, she never showered in the morning. Was something wrong?

Leon wiped the crust and sleep from his eyes as he made his way down the upstairs hall to the bathroom. The door wasn't closed all the way, stopped from swinging open by wet fabric bunching beneath it when he tried. "What the?" He knelt so he could move the cloth from the door before swinging it open. He was more confused at first, not seeing her silhouette. In fact, the shower curtain was mostly open, water having misted around the floor. Where the hell was she?

His took a step forward, knees buckling at the sight. He caught the edge of the tub with his hands, pajama pants soaking into the water on the floor. She was in there, unconscious. Her skin blueish in tint, unmoving was the water splashed over her form. He scrambled to shut the water off, almost turning the wrong knob in his panic.

"Come on, wake up." He said, shaking her by the shoulder. Her body wiggled, but she didn't move on her own. "Sweetheart... what did you do?" He looked her over again. Did she fall? But there was no bruising or blood. He lifted her arm, dropping it back on top of her. Nothing. He tried to feel for a pulse, but her skin was too cold to feel anything. Luckily, with the water off, it took only a moment before he heard the telltale sound of her teeth chattering together, even her tail seemed to vibrate as her body shivered involuntarily trying to gain some warmth. He'd have turned the warm water on if not for how pruny and textured her skin already was. She was practically water logged, but alive.

He yanked the towel off the bathroom rack, tossing it over her, helping to get a grip on her torso before pulling her out of the tub, cradling her against himself. He cartoon slid out of the bathroom, water making his feet hydroplane on the finished wood as he rushed you back to the bedroom. He didn't care about the mess, he just needed you to be ok, stuffing your cold body under the comforter, wrapping himself under with you, cocooning you in his body heat.

"Leon?" She blinked, knocking a few beads of water off her plush eyelashes. She was shivering violently. "I'm so cold."

"What the hell happened!?" His words held no malice, he was terrified more than he had the capacity to be angry, rubbing his palm against her back desperate to get some friction going between them.

"Was so hot... just wanted to cool off. Fell asleep...."

"You fell asleep in the shower?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you manage that?"

"So hot, then so sleepy."

He hadn't a clue what the hell she was talking about, but he was glad she was alive. He made a mental note to add a rule now that she wasn't allowed to use the shower without him from now on. In fact, he was already brainstorming a whole new set of rules and restrictions.

Every day, it seemed like she was tempting to pull herself away from him in one way or another. If it wasn't the way he could see her face tense when he was being overly affectionate. The way she complained and pushed boundaries. But this? God, he couldn't trust her to do anything anymore, could he?

His precious puppydoll, what was the matter with her? He peppered her forehead with kisses, ignoring his own shivering as the cold passed between them. She curled herself into him, his only focus was getting her comfortable and warmed up. He just couldn't understand her.

He wasn't sure how long the two of them had been laying there when she finally stopped shivering, falling back into sleep. Her breathing even, the sun through the window warm against the now soiled blankets. Leon couldn't find it within himself to do the same. He was wide awake, thinking about what to do. Watching her puppy ears twitch every now again, idly running his fingers through her now drying hair.

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You couldn't remember sleeping like that before, so exhausted, the world was gone. Dreamless. Vaguely, there was the memory of feeling so cold that your bones ached. Even when your eyes cracked open, part of your face felt numb - still you were nude, half wrapped in a towel and curled under the blanket.

'When did I come back to bed?' You thought to yourself, pawing at your eyes to get the crust and goopy feeling to go away. Despite the memory of freezing, the only thing you felt again was hot. Pure heat all over again.

"Good morning." Leon's voice caught your attention, his hands gently stroking your ears.

"Morning." You said, still groggy, a squeaky yawn leaving you as your eyes adjusted to the world. As if the warmth wasn't bad enough, everything felt off, the man laying in front of you just seemed so much more than he normally was. Leon's face was smooth, skin vibrant with life. You were hyper aware of the warmth on his cheeks, the cool undertones that cast the shadows of his features. His blue eyes were so opaque they could've been painted on stained-glass.

"Are you ok?" He asked, his large hand cupping your cheek. "Your pupils are dilated."

You had no clue what that meant, but you had this overwhelming instinct to press yourself to him, and you did. Nose nestled firmly into the crook of his neck, taking in a deep inhale. Had he always smelled this good? You whined, fisting his shirt to anchor yourself to him, tail drumming behind you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the stimuli. His scent was so intense, it was hypnotizing, and you craved more of him. Your tongue reached out to lap at the junction between his neck and collar bone, tasting his skin. That new but familiar aching between your legs was back with a vengeance. You wormed your hand down between your legs attempting to stave off the feeling, when Leon's hands met your shoulders to push you away from him slightly.

"What are you doing?" His face was tinged with a bright blush you hadn't seen before on him. Was he embarrassed by something? You weren't sure why, he looked so perfect right now. "H-hey now." He said, pressing you away from him, a firm grip on both your shoulders.

"Leoonnnn..." You whined his name, squirming to get back to him. When he wasn't budging, face still etched in confusion, a low growl began to bubble from the back of your throat, fangs bearing at him from frustration.

"What the hell's gotten into you? Are you seriously growling at me?" He kept his hold on you firm, giving a light squeeze to your shoulders. His face morphed into something you couldn't fully read, a cross between what you presumed to be anger and something else. Unable to articulate your need for him, the heat you were feeling - the growling didn't ease up. You struggled in his grasp, snapping and snarling, pawing at his arms as best you could with the awkward angle.

"Bad girl!" He snapped, voice loud and sharp. He rolled you over, pinning you down against the mattress, using his body weight to keep you there, his face level above yours. The surprise movement coupled with chiding made you halt for a moment. With his face so close to yours, there was no reason for you to remain so upset, instead you happily peppered his face with kissing, running your nose against his jaw again to take in his scent. A contented mewl dug it's way out of you.

"Leon, please." Tail wagging between your legs, you tried so hard to get him to understand. "Too hot. Everything's s'hot. Make it better?" You ground your hips upwards against him a few times. Something hard poked against your thigh as you did it, but Leon didn't move immediately.

When he finally did move, he was peeling himself away from you. "What the fuck?" He asked aloud to no one in particular.

"Leon!" You demanded, reaching your hands out to grab at him. He dodged them easily, slipping off the mattress, staring down at you. "It hurts, it's too hot. Leon, please." The room felt like it was teetering, you were so wound up, you wanted to cry, scream, throw yourself onto the floor. Anything to help cope with the overstimulation of everything going on. Even the silence was too much, aiding in your ability to hear both your heartbeats pounding in your head. The heat, smell, the visuals.

Flopping forwards onto the bed, you buried your face in the blanket, inhaling his scent again. The corner of his pillow had caught against the spot between your legs from the movement. It was dull, but you felt it. That same pleasurable feeling from the night before. With a soft groan, you bore down again, grinding your hips onto the bed to try and get more of that pressure, anything to quell that ache.

Leon still hadn't said anything, but you were too driven by instinct to even care. The blanket blocking your vision, his scent mixed with laundry detergent sating your olfactory, all you could focus on was rocking your hips against the pillow letting that pressure build up again.

"I get it now..." He finally piped up, kneeling down and patting your shoulder.

Panting, you lifted your head to look at him. "H-help me?"

"I can't, at least not how you need." He brushed some of the hair that had clung to your face from sweat away. Again his expression was unreadable, and you hated it. You didn't understand, all you wanted was to feel normal again. For the heat and ache to go away.

Tears clung to your lash line, unable to cope any more as your hips picked up speeding, rutting desperately against the pillow. Leon drew his hand back as he stood again. He did a strange shuffle messing with his pants, before quickly exiting the room. You reached out for him, wanting to call him back to you, beg him not to go, but the door slammed closed behind him. Unable to do anything else, you squeezed your eyes shut, flopping there until a few more movements of your hips had that same pleasurable feeling washing over you again.

Sighing in relief, you just laid there, bringing the blanket back to your nose to inhale it.

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The moment the door slammed behind him, Leon bound down the stairs, skipping half the steps. He needed to distance himself, clear his head. Her erratic behavior had thrown him a loop that he could hardly process. The way she was begging for him, clinging to him, fucking herself against his pillow - all within a few minutes of waking up. It was enough to make his pajama pants tent painfully.

What he wouldn't give to let you pepper his face in more of those kisses while he railed you into the mattress. She shivered at the thought, pushing it to the outskirts of his consciousness to try and calm down. His palms felt sweaty, and his heart was hammering a mile a minute.

He couldn't do that to you. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair. You were in heat...at least he thought so. Not in your right mind. But even if you were in your right mind, he still hadn't concluded what exactly your relationship was. Were you even aware enough to consent to anything more than kisses?

He didn't know. And he wished he didn't care enough to know, wanting to give in to his baser instincts.

For now, he was stuck sitting on the floor in front of the couch, catching his breath. He leaned back, letting his head fall onto the cushion. "Fuck." He palmed himself through the cottony fabric of his pajama pants to ease his own tension. He couldn't get the image of her out of his head, every time he blinked he saw her dilated pupils, that lovesick longing. Leon's had girlfriends before, not many, but he's had them, and he's sure not one of them ever looked at him like that. There was never a connection he'd felt with someone so intense before, like she would die without him. Maybe she would.

She would.

She would.

He was sure of that fact, especially after last night.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. 'She does need me, I know that.' He confirmed to himself. 'God.' He let out a few deep breaths, removing his hand from his crotch, allowing his erection to deflate. It was just one more thing to add to the list of everything else he was dealing with.

Her behavior. Her desire to keep pushing his boundaries. Her erratic behavior the night before. Now this.

He listened to see if he could hear her. Luckily, there was nothing but silence from the upstairs bedroom. She'd likely fallen back asleep, giving him even more time to process things. In all his 21 years of life, he was sure he had never faced a challenge like this one before, but he was never one to give up or back down. His puppydoll needed him, and he was going to figure things out, even if it was the death of him. He owed her that, he owed himself that.

"I could call Chris, maybe..." He mumbled to himself, looking to the landline. Something about the idea of Chris knowing she was in heat, even imagining what she was looking like right now didn't set right with him. Leon wasn't a jealous person by nature, but somehow a phantom jealousy shut that idea down. No, she needed him not anyone else right now.

"Think, think." He chided himself, cupping his temples with his hands. Did he go back upstairs to her? Comfort her in the short term? Did he leave her there? Longterm?

He slicked his hair out of his face, emptying his head of all thoughts for a moment. "If she's in heat then she must have other instincts right? She's fertile, and she'll want to nest and...mating makes animals closer right?" He mused out loud, then it occurred to him. This situation was the solution, not another problem.

"No, that's messed up... I shouldn't even be thinking about..." But he was, the image of her swollen and gravid with a baby, his baby flashed before his eyes. She'd be so needy, tired. So focused on what her body was meant to do, she wouldn't need to try and get into any more trouble.

It was tempting. So very tempting.

It would solve her problem of being bored too, with a baby to focus on, take care of. She wouldn't have to be lonely while he was away.

The more he thought of it, the more appealing it was becoming. His cock was filling out again, twitching each time he pictured it. He had a solid job, a house, two things most people his age didn't. He could do it. Really.

By the time the wet spot formed on his pajamas, any moral argument against the plan had disappeared by the need to get his rocks off, to fuck a baby into her. He was convinced that this was the perfect solution in totality.

His legs were a little shaky as he stumbled to his feet, every step of the stairs felt like running through sand. Electricity skipped through his nerves, leaving him tweaking like a livewire. The door creaked open slowly, and he poked his head back in.

She hadn't moved from her spot, face down on top of the covers. One of her ears twitched, before pointing up in his direction. "H-hey."

Her head lifted just enough to look at him, her eyes glossy and dilated still. The sheen of sweat that made her skin glisten was enough of an indicator that she was still hot all over. "Are you mad at me?"

That shattered him, truly. "No, no sweetheart, I'm not mad. I was just...surprised." He coaxed her to sit up, taking his own spot next to her. "I'm sorry for responding that way. Are you still feeling uncomfortable?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Not like because, but everything is still so hot."

"Is that...is that why you took a cold shower last night?"

"Just wanted it to stop."

He nodded, "I understand. You had me so worried though, you can get really sick if you stay cold too long."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He said, pecking her on the cheek. "I'm sorry you're feeling so unwell. I think I can help you now though. Would you like that?"

"But I thought you said - "

"Nevermind what I said before. I was being stupid." The look she was giving him now nearly sent him into cardiac arrest, that sweet pleading face begging for him to devour her. "I promise, I'll make it all better, ok?"

"Really?"

He smiled, reaching down to lock his pinky around hers. "I promise. I'll make it all better, just trust me."

She nodded, and he took the opportunity to lean forward and capture her lips with his own, unlike the ferris wheel or any other time, he tried his best to convey his own need. He groaned into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her bottom lip before slipping it into her mouth the moment her lips parted. He slid it along hers, nearly whining himself as he pressed her back down onto the bed, grinding his tented and leaking cock down against her a few times, his pants soaking with her own juices.

"You're so pretty. So perfect. My pretty perfect puppydoll. " He cooed, pulling away just enough to kiss her jaw, then her neck. "I've never met anyone like you before. I've never wanted anyone as much as you before." He admitted, swirling his tongue over one of her nipples.

"Leon!" She gasped, squirming beneath him. He pressed himself down onto her more to keep her still before popping off to latch on to her other breast. He ran his thumb over the perked up one, smearing his own saliva across it as he worked the current one with his mouth. He could feel her thighs twitching from the stimulation, he could only imagine how her poor pussy was feeling. Her skin was feverish, sticky. He loved it, it felt so primal.

"Don't worry sweetheart." He leaned back to give her a moment to catch her breath, seizing the chance to spread her legs. He groaned at the sight of her slick folds, her hole twitching and closing over nothing. Prettiest pussy he'd ever seen, he ever would see, he was sure of it. Leon made a mental note to devour her next time, make her squirm and scream on his tongue until she was pulling his hair out - see how many noises he could get her to make. The thought alone almost made him cum, and he had to take a deep breath to refocus.

There was a task at hand, and his own need was starting to become painful. He tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and balls, letting his shaft slap against his abdomen. He hissed at the feeling of the air, relief washing over him from the lack of restriction.

With one hand he squeezed the base of his shaft, holding the pressure there before stroking himself slowly, as slow as he could without torturing himself. With his free hand he slipped two fingers into her folds, running them up and down, coating them in her slick.

"This might feel a little weird, just trust me, ok?" He warned.

"I trust you." She whispered, barely louder than a mouse.

"Good girl." He heard her tail hit the bed, wagging from the praise. 'Fuck, she's too cute.' He pressed his fingers into her slowly, she was so tight, so wet. He could only imagine the way she'd feel finally wrapped around him. He pressed his thumb against her clit circling it gently, leaving the inserted fingers still. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. Feels good."

"Good." He nodded, beginning to move his fingers in and out of her slowly. "If it hurts, tell me, alright?" He picked up speed, switching from thrusting to spreading his fingers within her, feeling the resistance of her walls contracting from the movements. Her slick covered the palm of his hand, and he refocused his thumb back to her clit.

She made a noise, he wasn't entirely sure if it was agreement or not, but the look on her face was enough to tell him she was enjoying herself. He continued to finger her, entranced by the small squeaks she made, the way her facial muscles twitched with each new sensation. The sun hit her face at just the right angle, illuminating her features like an angel.

She was an angel.

God he loved her so much, it hurt.

He pulled his hand out, chuckling at the needy whine she let out. "Don't worry, just give me a sec." He wiped the slick from his hand all over his tip and shaft, making sure it was good and wet before leaning over her again. Pressing the mushroomy head against her entrance, he kissed her one more time. "I love you." He mumbled against her lips.

"Love you t-"

She was cut off when he sunk himself inside of her. He was careful, slow, whimpering at how constricting she was. It was euphoric nearly, how her walls squeezed against every inch of him, sucking him into her. Her eyes were wide, mouth parted the moment he gave a shallow thrust.

"So good. So good for me baby." He cooed, resting both elbows beside her head, lazily grinding into her. "Never had someone so perfect before."

"L-leon... so full...what's happening....?"

"I'm making you allllllll better." He said, sloppily kissing her jaw a few times. "Just like I promised." He enjoyed the closeness, the intimacy of laying atop her like this, slow, soft. "Gotta take care of my puppydoll."

She squeezed her eyes shut, relaxing against the pillow, soft whines escaping her with every movement he made. Now that she was more placid, and he was able to sink himself fully into her. The feeling was indescribable. He was on cloud nine balls deep inside of her.

"Such a good girl. Good, good girl." He chanted, pulling back just enough to pull her legs up to her chest, so he had a better angle to bear down into her. She wrapped her arms around him, latching her nails into his back, red crescent shaped marks left over every time she dragged them against his skin. Her nose buried in his neck as she clung to him, whimpering and whining.

The sound of his name falling from her lips, mumbled into his skin like a prayer, coupled with the squeezing of her walls around him, was enough to make him lose it. He felt his balls tighten the moment she came, nearly crying as he gripped her hips bruisingly, slamming the head of his cock as deep as he could. He held himself like that as he shot his load. "F-fuck." He groaned, squeezing his own eyes shut before shallowly thrusting again, riding out the hot waves of pleasure that overcame him.

He caught his breath, kissing her forehead a few times. He wasn't ready to pull out, even when he felt himself going soft. Instead, he propped himself above her a little longer before daring to crack his eyes open. She looked half asleep, peaceful beneath him. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired....good."

"I'm glad, baby. Still hot?"

"Not like before... Am I fixed now?"

"I think so, we might have to do this a few more times. But you'll feel better and better each time." He assured.

She nodded, yawning. He could see her eyelids growing heavy again, fighting off the impending sleep. "Poor thing, you should get some sleep."

"Slept a lot, don't wanna."

"You need it." He slowly pulled out of her, rolling off to the side so he could hold her close. He flattened his palm against her belly, imagining the future again, what it would feel like a few months from now. "Take a nap, I'll lay with you. I'll even take you on a walk later. "

"Really?"

"Really." He pulled the blanket back over the two of them. "I promise." She nestled herself into his side, hooking her pinky around his. She didn't say anything further, closing her eyes and sinking into unconsciousness next to him.

[sunshineyuyu]

princess treatment (j. yh)

★ summary: you have a crush on jongho, but he’s chatting up someone else. so, you end up getting high and hooking up with yunho instead. ★ pairing: yunho x f!reader ★ genre: college, smut (mdni!) ★ word count: 4.3k ★ tags/warnings: weed & alcohol consumption, yunho calls reader princess, high sex, piv sex (with a condom!), vaginal fingering, spanking, choking, slight dom/sub undertones, ig under-negotiated kink?, big dick!yunho, yunho manhandles reader, yunho is taller than reader, yunho has tattoos lol, dirty talk, intentionally lowercase ★ notes: this is the prequel to the jongho fic chained and the final “part” of this series! yunho from chained was just a lil too hot for me to not write something for him too! let me know if i missed any warnings!! ofc beta’d by the bestie @starhwas-bunny ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | chained (jongho sequel)

you look so hot tonight. you’re wearing your new favorite top—with a deep deep cut that makes your chest the center of attention—and a pair of jeans that you know makes your ass look good.

all of this to hopefully attract the attention of one choi jongho, who you’ve been crushing on for the better half of the semester, since san introduced you to him. he’s built and tan and nice and smart and sexy.

and he’s currently leaning against a wall—cradling a red solo cup and swirling its contents like he’s james fucking bond or something—and chatting up some pretty blonde girl.

you practically feel smoke coming out of your ears as you stare at the two of them—the way jongho leans forward so that he can hear the girl amidst the blaring sounds of somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper. ryujin puts a hand on your shoulder and the warmth of her palm makes you realize how tense you are. she shoves a beer into your hand.

“forget about him, honey,” she says. “he’s not worth it.”

“it’s not like he’s a fuckboy,” you whine, struggling to crack open the can with your recently cut nails. ryujin takes pity on you and opens it for you. you take a deep drink from it before wiping the edge of your mouth with your wrist. “he’s nice. he brought homemade coffee to class for me the other day.”

“mmm,” ryujin says. “i know, honey, but no boy is worth it. c’mon, let’s go play rage cage.”

you let ryujin pull you away to a different room, where the birthday girl yeji is parading around on wooyoung’s shoulders while spraying everyone with bubbly champagne. you don’t even really know yeji—she’s an acquaintance of an acquaintance, but you came because you wanted an excuse to get drunk and look hot and get jongho’s attention, only two of which you’ve managed to succeed in.

you finish the beer at an alarming rate and crush it in your fist.

“i’m gonna go get some air,” you say. “i’m not really feeling rage cage right now.”

“i’ll come with you,” ryujin says.

you venture to a different part of the house, trying to locate the stairs back down to ground level, but instead spotting a balcony. ryujin follows you here, where up close you realize it’s not empty.

the balcony is big—big enough to have several foldable lawn chairs strewn around, all occupied by various zooted-adjacent individuals. you and ryujin find a small opening against the railing, and you push up against it to feel the wind blow against your hair.

“men are shit,” you proclaim, apropos to nothing.

“men are shit,” ryujin agrees.

“you wanna smoke?” this voice is new, and it doesn’t belong to ryujin. it comes from your other side, and you turn slowly to appraise the person it originates from.

he’s holding a blunt out to you, a small thin thing between his thumb and pointer finger.

it’s jeong yunho. 

you don’t really know yunho, but you know him enough. he’s a friend of seonghwa’s, which means you’ve seen him at enough parties—been shoved next to him during rage cage, had him hold your hair back while you took a bong hit. he’s tall, with soft black hair, and has a tattoo of a dragon curled around his right forearm. there’s a perpetual lazy look to him—a smirk always playing at his lips.

he’s attractive, and he’s offering you a smoke from his blunt. you don’t think twice before you’re stepping closer, pressing your lips against the end of the blunt and inhaling. a low tsk comes from ryujin, but you focus on letting the sour smoke fill your lungs, all while you maintain eye contact with yunho.

“ryujin,” you say, coughing a little since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a direct hit. “can you get me some water?”

ryujin gives another tsk, but then you shoot her a look that she understands in an instance, and she slips away to “get you some water.”

you turn back to yunho.

“you looked like you needed it,” yunho says, taking a pull from the blunt and then blowing the smoke back out. 

you hum lightly, crossing your arms from both the night chill and because you know it makes your tits look better.

“you’re right.”

yunho holds the blunt back out to you, right in front of your mouth. you take another hit. this time you close your eyes and you breathe it back out, letting your head fall back and your hair hang loose.

“it’s nice,” you say. “thank you.”

“anytime,” yunho says.

you continue the back and forth of the blunt a few times, until you’re starting to really feel it, which is good because the blunt is practically finished, yunho barely pinching onto it after your puff.

“last one,” yunho says, a little breathy, and eyes more hooded than usual. 

on this last one, you meet yunho’s half-gaze and blow the smoke directly into his face. he’s closer than you really remember him being, but you don’t mind. he’s big and he blocks the wind. he flicks the stub of the blunt onto the ground, grinding it with the toe of his shoe. he raises his head back up to you.

“that was hot,” he says.

“i’ve always wanted to have high sex,” you say.

“i can make that happen,” he says.

he leads you to the stairs, down them, and out the front door with a surprising amount of clarity. meanwhile, you’re letting the sound of whatever chainsmokers song is playing drag you back to your high school days. an uber appears out of seemingly mid-air, and you’re suddenly in the backseat of a sedan. yunho’s shoving the armrest into the backseat and pulling you into him.

the ride is smooth, and you take it in turns to focus on different things. first, the dulcet sounds of a jazzy trumpet, fragmented and dusty because of the car’s worn speakers. second, the rushing of lights in the windows, leaving behind trails of white, yellow, a smear of blue.

finally, yunho’s hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles in that sliver of skin between your top and your jeans. it’s nice, makes you feel warm. you press deeper into his chest, your hand pressed into the cotton of his shirt.

he leads you up to his apartment and throws his keys into a ceramic bowl near the front door. 

“do you want water?” he asks, heading towards the kitchen like you hadn’t propositioned him fifteen minutes ago after sharing a blunt together.

“yeah,” you admit, when the full feeling of cotton mouth hits you.

after several gulps of the most delicious filtered water you’ve ever had, yunho’s crowding you into the countertop. he towers over you, but that works because you like feeling small, overpowered.

“you sure about this?” he asks, and if you weren’t high you would’ve said something about appreciating the ask for consent. instead, you lock your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your height and pressing your lips against his.

the kiss is immediately intense, his tongue roving against yours, while his hands—jesus, they’re massive—press into your sides, palms hot and fingers digging.

“yes,” you say.

he picks you up effortlessly, and you manage to wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you into his room. he sets—no, throws—you down onto the mattress. you bounce a little and fall backwards onto the pillows. you’re getting ready to bite out a retort at being tossed aside so roughly when you see his face: calm, emotionless, but a distinct darkness in his eyes.

“fuck.” you mean it as a breath, but it comes out like a moan. 

yunho pounces.

he kisses you briefly, before descending to your neck, your collarbone. he’s pushing your top off your shoulder, mouthing at the flesh at the top of your breast.

“take it— take it off,” you say.

yunho obliges, sitting back to push your top up past your chest and over your head. he lingers there for a little longer, eyes running over your tits and your nipples hardening under his heavy gaze.

“hot,” he says. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“touch me,” you say.

he obliges, palming your tits and pinching your nipples. rolling them between his fingers and revelling at the way you keen under his touch. 

“sensitive?” he says, all breathy while watching you.

“y- yes,” you say. “the- the weed—”

“mmm, yeah, i know what you mean.”

you reach down to the button of your jeans, but yunho catches your hands and lifts them above your head. he presses into it, hovering over you.

“i’ll take care of you, princess,” he says. “be patient.”

this pulls a squeak out of you. the assertive tone, the pet name, combined with the way that it only takes one of his hands to lock your wrists in place—it’s new to you, but you’re suddenly so fucking desperate to get out of your pants.

the unoccupied hand goes to your jeans, and you close your eyes, as yunho deftly unbuttons it, but drags down the zipper slowly to reveal your mildly scandalous underwear: red and lacy with a little bow.

yunho whistles. “y/n. that’s kinda sexy.”

he releases your wrists to use both hands to slide your legs out of your jeans. he goes slow, trailing behind his hands with his lips, which leave a scorching trail of lazy kisses. he’s looking at you as he goes, his eyes never wavering. you almost blush from the heat of his glare.

“you shy?” yunho teases, reaching up to palm one of your tits. 

“no,” you say. “just- just ready.”

“mmm,” yunho says. “i told you, princess. be patient.”

in an instant, you’re suddenly on your stomach, bouncing again. your waist feels a little tender from where he gripped you hard to turn you over, and your head feels a little woozy from the sudden movement, but then you feel yunho tapping on the outside of your thigh.

“up.” one word, one syllable, but coated in dominance, and you’re on your knees in an instant, ass up.

“fuck, that’s a nice view,” you hear yunho say, and you feel his hands splay out on your cheeks. he squeezes a little and chuckles.

slap! 

you fall onto the mattress, arms slow to catch yourself. did he—? did he just smack your ass? the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done in bed was some light hair pulling, but you’re finding that you don’t mind the buzzing you feel in your ass right now.

in fact—

“oh.” it comes out like a whine, and yunho hisses in satisfaction.

“you like that, huh, princess?” yunho says, his voice low.

“mm.” you can’t manage words.

“good,” he says, but even then you can’t anticipate the next slap. it’s harsher this time, and you jerk from the touch. “gonna make ur ass red to match those panties.”

it’s filthy. the way he’s talking. you’ve only heard talk like this in porn, and you’d always thought it was overly scripted. but yunho’s just talking, eliciting tiny squeaks and squeals of surprise from you that you also have only heard in porn and thought was fake.

“p- please,” you say, lower lip trembling a little. you finally chance a look back at yunho, and you find him still completely clothed, kneeling on the bed behind you with his hands on your hips.

“please what?” yunho says, smirking.

“touch me,” you gulp.

“where?”

“here.” before you can overthink it you’re taking his much bigger hand and moving it to your core, to where your underwear is already soaked. 

“okay, princess,” yunho says. “since you asked nicely.”

he starts rubbing your clit over the fabric of your underwear, a feathery touch that still makes you shudder. his other hand slides up your back and settles between your shoulder blades, pressing you down into the mattress.

“stay still, okay?”

you whimper in response, because soon he’s pushing aside the crotch of your panties, teasing the pad of his finger at your dripping entrance.

and then he’s pushing not one, but two long fingers into you. the first thrust is slow, and you can feel your walls pulsing around the digits. the second, third, fourth thrusts are hard and fast, and his hand on your back is bruising.

“fuck,” yunho hisses. “so wet and tight, princess.”

“hnng,” is your reply, because yunho is hitting that spot in the back, and your thighs are quivering.

“turn around,” yunho commands. “i want to see you when you cum.”

you scramble to follow his direction, flipping onto your back and pulling your knees closer into you. yunho shoves fingers into your mouth before you have a chance to say anything, and you suck on instinct, lapping at his fingers and tasting yourself on them.

“fuck,” yunho says, and then he withdraws the fingers and pushes them back into your cunt. you stare down at his hand, at his arm—the one with the dragon tattoo wrapped around. at how the scales of the dragon dance with the veins of his forearm as he pistons his fingers into you.

you’re a babbling mess of whines and coos and squeals, and suddenly yunho’s other hand flies up to your throat.

“this okay?” yunho asks quietly. his voice is low, like he’s trying to be sultry, but you can tell he’s watching carefully to see your response.

this is new. you’ve never done this before. you’ve seen it, heard about it. 

you like it.

you nod, and yunho smirks.

his grip is loose, but this new pressure on your throat makes you a little dizzy, a little lightheaded, and makes the fluttering in your stomach speed up. both your hands come up to grip his arm, to feel the muscle beneath your fingers.

“i’m- i’m close,” you croak.

“good.” and yunho picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into you until you feel that crest of nerve endings exploding. your back arches, your head falls back, your eyes close—the feeling ten times more intense than usual because of the weed in your system.

you collapse against the bed, breathing heavily and clenching around his fingers.

“fuck,” yunho whispers. “that was hot.”

he’s perched over you now, a hand on your cheek brushing your sweaty locks out of your face. he kisses your neck, softly.

“i- i want—” you have to pause to catch your breath.

“yeah, princess?” he grins at you.

“this,” you say, your hand cupping the very apparent tent in his pants. this takes yunho by surprise. he jerks, but your hand remains. you experiment with palming him a little, feeling how firm his cock is. how big it feels even under the thick strain of his pants.

“yeah?” he says.

“yes,” you say. “please.”

“ok, princess.”

he reaches behind his head to pull his shirt off by the collar. you blanch at the sight of his torso. lean, lithe muscle. another tattoo along the top of his ribcage that you’ve never seen before. black calligraphy strokes that spell out something in what you think is japanese.

“what does it say?” you say, before you can stop yourself. you run your fingers along the words, touch soft.

“nana korobi, ya oki,” he says, equally softly. “it means ‘fall down seven times, get up eight.’”

“it’s beautiful,” you say.

“not as beautiful as you,” yunho says, and he tugs your underwear down from your hips and off your legs. you suddenly remember exactly what you’d asked for.

“so. fucking. beautiful,” he continues, undoing his belt and throwing it aside. he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them halfway down his thighs. there’s a small wet patch on his briefs, but those are soon pulled down too to reveal—

he’s big. long but not too thick. the head of his cock flushed red and leaking pre-cum.

you feel your mouth inexplicably fill with saliva.

“you’re- you’re—”

“you can do it, princess,” he says, kicking off his briefs and jeans the rest of the way. “you can take it.”

you nod obediently.

he reaches over you for his bedside drawer, returning with a silver foil condom packet and a little plastic bottle of lube. he tears the condom open with his teeth, spitting out the corner and then rolling the thing down his length. you lay back, eyes up to the ceiling. you hear the distinct pop of the lube cap, hear a liquid sort of noise, and then you feel his fingers again. cold and a little slimy, probing at your entrance and briefly nudging at your sensitive clit.

“you ready?” he says, lining himself up.

“mm.”

he pushes in slowly, and it takes all of your willpower not to clench instinctively. he groans while he slides into you, and the pace allows you to feel every inch of him. the stretch is difficult at first, but the further in he gets, the less control he has and soon, he bottoms out.

“you can- you can move,” you say.

“don’t have to tell me twice, princess.”

yunho’s hands find your waist, grip it hard, and then he pulls back and thrusts in again, but still slow. you can feel his eyes on you, making sure his size doesn’t overwhelm you. as he builds up his pace, his hips snap against yours, filling the room with positively lewd sounds that combine with his deep breathing and grunts and your whimpers and whines.

he fucks you into the mattress, stretching you so deliciously.

you find one of his hands and lead it up to your throat. yunho’s eyes widen, but he wraps those long, perfect fingers around your neck, grip tighter this time.

“fuck, you’re so pretty, princess,” yunho says. “taking my cock like that. such a good fucking girl—fuck!”

you’re overstimulated, but in the best way. lightheaded from the choking, sensitive everywhere from the weed, and so turned on from yunho’s praise. you close your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of being so thoroughly fucked.

as yunho pounds into you, he starts cooing and moaning about how good you look, how good you sound, how good you feel.

“yeah? you like that, princess? yeah—let me hear you. tell me how good i’m fucking you. fuck—your pussy is perfect. like you were fucking made for me. such a perfect princess.”

you can’t tell if you’re close to another orgasm, or if this is just all one long extended orgasm. all you know is that your body is buzzing with pleasure, and you feel really fucking good.

eventually, yunho’s thrusts grow faster and more erratic. he gives one final push and stays buried in you, chest rising and falling.

he pulls out slowly, checking to make sure the condom worked.

“fuck, that was good,” he says, breathless.

“yeah,” you agree, boneless.

yunho swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking off the condom and tying it up before throwing it into a trash can. you’re a bit miffed that he is already fully operational, while you feel like you had all of your inner organs rearranged.

“give me a sec, princess,” he says, as he tugs on a pair of sweatpants. “i’ll get you some water and get you cleaned up. just relax.”

your head still feels a little woozy, but you slowly come back to your senses as you hear yunho bustle around outside. finally, he comes back into the room guzzling a chilled bottle of water. he recaps it and hands it to you. you drink deeply as you feel yunho wipe at your thighs with something warm and wet. the cool water reinvigorates your throat after having yunho’s hand pressed against it. 

“you good?” he says. “i wasn’t too hard or anything?”

“no,” you say. “no, it was good. i liked it.”

“good girl,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting your head. it’s mildly patronizing, and but you’re to tired to retort back. 

he shifts deeper onto the bed to lean back against the headboard, running his fingers along your spine. it’s relaxing and—together with the water—helps you ground yourself as you feel the last remnants of weed and arousal fog clear from your mind.

“you like jongho, right?” he asks, apropos to nothing.

you choke. you spend the next few seconds spluttering and coughing while yunho rubs your back soothingly.

“i don’t- why are you—?”

“that’s why you were all sad at first, right?” yunho says. “on the balcony?”

you stare at him, finally able to breathe properly.

“yeah,” you say quietly. “but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t like me.”

yunho hums. “i don’t know about that—” and he pinches your back when you open your mouth to protest “—but i don’t mind being your fuck buddy while you get over him.”

you purse your lips. truth be told it was good sex, but your… thing for jongho isn’t something that you can just get over with a couple good fucks and some weed. you don’t know how to tell yunho—someone you’ve only really ever been around either drunk or high or both—about pulling all-nighters with jongho to finish your homework together, sleepy and giggly and delirious; or how he knows your coffee order without ever having asked; or the way his eyes crinkle when you show him a funny meme.

so, you settle with a small smile and a peck to yunho’s jaw.

“i’ll consider it,” you say, and you get up to start redressing. you’re sobering up properly now, and the flimsy top you’d been wearing before feels a little scandalous for your current mental state. after hesitating briefly, you grab yunho’s discarded top and put it on.

“well shit, when you do stuff like that,” yunho says, running his eyes over how his shirt dwarfs you.

“i’m- i’m cold,” you mutter.

yunho just laughs, ruffling his hair.

“hey—you hungry?”

he takes you to the 24/7 burger joint just outside his apartment, harsh fluorescent lights and greasy air doing their best to sober you up even more. he orders and pays for you, while you slide into a corner booth to avoid anyone seeing how utterly fucked out you look: hair in a messy bun to hide the knots, body swimming in yunho’s shirt, mascara smeared under your eyes, and hand constantly on your neck to cover up the massive hickey you discovered while peeing—when had yunho even given it to you?

yunho scoots into the seat opposite you with a handful of napkins and a little paper cup of spicy ketchup. after you receive your tray of food, you and yunho spend the next fifteen minutes talking about the basics when you both realize that you don’t know much about each other.

it’s easy to talk to yunho, whose light chuckles and lazy smiles are comforting. while you might not take him up on the fuck buddy proposal, you just might keep him around as a friend.

you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket, and you reach for it to see a text from san, asking if you’re okay.

to: san

[1:40 AM] yeah i’m good

[1:40 AM] actually can u come pick me up. i’m at the burger place on 8th.

from: san

[1:42 AM] yeah omw

you slip the phone back into your jeans while you sip on your soda.

“san’s coming to get me,” you tell yunho.

“oh, cool,” yunho says. “yeah i was gonna offer to take you home or something—it’s so late.”

you hum, warming in appreciation for yunho’s intent. he really isn’t a bad guy—not that you’d thought that before. he’s always been a neutral acquaintance, but you’re really starting to enjoy his company now.

“thanks,” you say. “for the food, and—the other stuff.” 

yunho laughs.

“you’re cute,” he says, tapping the tip of your nose with a greasy finger. you dab at it with a crinkly brown napkin.

ten minutes later, your phone vibrates again to indicate that san is outside in a silver uber. you thank yunho again, and even give him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, your face flaming as you turn away from him to leave the diner.

when you throw open the door of the car, you find not san, but—

choi jongho, stuffed into the backseat with a slight flush on his cheeks and a loose grin. you stare at him, and he stares back. the only empty seat is in the middle.

“scoot,” you say.

“i’m too big for the middle seat,” he says, but he doesn’t make any moves to exit the vehicle to give you the space to slide into the car. you nudge him. “just climb over me.”

a low string of curses leave your mouth as you reluctantly clamber around his big frame and into the middle seat, where you finally see san sitting on the other side. you’re so preoccupied with greeting him and thanking him for coming to get you that you don’t notice jongho’s eyes narrowing at the shirt you’re wearing—yunho’s.

“you coming to our place or going home?” san asks.

the words your place are on the tip of your tongue when you look back at jongho, noticing now a small red bruise blossoming just under his jaw. this causes you to snap a hand to your own hickey, which you hope is hidden by the shadows.

“home,” you say quietly. “ryujin’s probably waiting for me.”

the uber starts up again, and you lean your head back onto the headrest, determinedly avoiding jongho’s gaze. you know that you just went off to hook-up with someone random, but it doesn’t sting any less that apparently jongho was doing exactly the same thing.

at that moment, your phone lights up with a new text.

from: unknown number

[1:59 am] hmu whenever, princess ;)

continued in chained (c. jh)!

[5sospenguinqueen]

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms. 

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander. 

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face) 

F1 Masterlist

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f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen? 

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works 

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star 

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together 

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over” 

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

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mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun! 

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :( 

user1 she looks soooo good wtf  liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding 

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?! 

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red! 

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this! 

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something 

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is 

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together! 

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust 

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp 

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kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments 

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao 

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour 

user4 he looks much better with yn 

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao 

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p 

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together 

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat 

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words 

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look 

user3 not kelly liking this! 

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange 

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next 

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is! 

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the end picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue” 

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments 

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there! 

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce 

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta 

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver? 

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo 

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max 

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo 

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you! 

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

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requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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